Iceland
Reykjavik
Bókabúð Forlagsins
Fiskislóð 39, Reykjavik
The walk from the centre to this bookshop is not exactly pleasant. At times, I felt as if I had wandered into the set of an American film. The buildings on this peninsula are caught somewhere between warehouse, Tesla factory and harbour architecture, functional, soulless. One might say that even a Lego brick has more character. With one exception.
The bookshop itself is extraordinary. Its soaring ceilings and industrial bones have been masterfully embraced rather than hidden. The scent of newness still lingers, yet the space already feels purposeful. Industrial chandeliers and wooden panels soften the stark architecture, creating a balance between rawness and warmth. It is an inspired use of space.
The selection, however, is somewhat narrow. English-language titles are limited, with the focus falling primarily on Icelandic works, illustrated editions, and, most prominently, the crime novels of Arnaldur Indriðason, available here in seemingly endless variations. Having already bought one of his books elsewhere, I found myself reluctantly choosing another, as the alternatives were scarce. Icelandic itself, though, was richly represented, which lent the shop a unique character, so much so that it was the only language I heard spoken among the customers.
In a country swept up in a tourism boom, this shop feels refreshingly authentic, a true refuge for locals rather than visitors. I hadn’t expected to find anything like it. And perhaps that is why I left so delighted.
Book i bought:
Arnaldur Indriðason: The Girl by the Bridge
Eymundsson
Austurstræti 18, Reykjavik
If this bookshop lingers in my memory, it will be for an unexpected reason: the remarkable range of suitcases. Naturally, one needs something in which to carry books, but I cannot recall another shop that has embraced this idea with such enthusiasm. I’ve come to think of it, fondly, as the Suitcase Café.
Spread over four floors, the store devotes its top level largely to a café. From the mezzanine terrace, one can watch the flow of passers-by while enjoying coffee prepared with notable care. It is, without question, a pleasant spot to pause.
The overall selection is wide, though it has more of a department-store character than the intimacy of a true bookshop. Books are certainly present, yet browsing here never quite reaches the quiet delight one finds at the Penninn Eymundsson branch.
Still, the abundance of suitcases seems to hint at ambition: you may not leave with a literary treasure, but you will at least have ample means of carrying one should you find it elsewhere.
Book i bought:
Arnaldur Indriðason: Jar City
Iða Zimsen
Vesturgata 2a, Reykjavik
The house itself has something of Greenland about it, its appearance leaves no doubt that this is the far north.
Directly opposite the Art Museum, with its striking canopy, stands Iða Zimsen, a book café that serves Illy coffee. It is a place where I immediately felt at ease: a cosy café, lined with books on every wall. In particular, the side with the tall bookcase radiates the charm of a living room, the kind of corner where one could happily linger for hours.
Here, the café clearly takes precedence, and as a result the book selection is somewhat modest. Yet browsing remains a delight, especially in such an atmosphere. My time in Reykjavík was brief, just 26 hours, and unfortunately cut short by the cancellation of the Madness concert. Still, of the few places I managed to see, this is one I would warmly recommend to anyone visiting Iceland’s capital.
The staff, too, were unfailingly friendly, adding to the café’s welcoming spirit.
Book i bought:
Yrsa Sigurdardottir: I Remember You
Penninn Eymundsson
Skólavörðustíg 11, Reykjavik
This branch enjoys a prime location on the road leading to the famous Hallgrímskirkja, and, less fortunately, to the so-called Rainbow Street, which in my view adds little to the atmosphere of Reykjavík’s city centre.
Stepping inside, my first impression was clear: Iceland’s answer to Waterstones. The size is generous without being overwhelming, and the range is well balanced, offering something for every reader. Browsing the shelves of Icelandic titles, one quickly senses how deeply literature is woven into the culture here. Even the youngest readers are drawn in with beautifully produced children’s books.
The shop also stocks magazines, a likely nod to Reykjavík’s lack of traditional newsstands. In the back right corner, chairs are set around a small coffee counter, inviting visitors to linger a while.
For international guests, the wide selection of English-language books is a real gift, certainly for me, as someone who, regrettably, never managed even the basics of Icelandic.
Book i bought:
Anthony Adeane: Out of Thin Air
Salka
Hverfisgata 89-93, Reykjavik
Just parallel to Reykjavík’s main shopping street lies Hverfisgata, home to the Salka bookshop.
The shop itself is beautifully furnished, yet when I stepped inside it was utterly silent. The bookseller sat at a table with his laptop, and when I later passed by the building again, he was still in the very same place. I was the only customer.
There was no pretense of busy activity, no artificial pacing up and down the aisles. In a way, that honesty was refreshing, even appealing. The selection is modest, but the store is pleasant enough to merit a visit for its atmosphere alone.
And yet, the silence carried a certain unease. Curiously, it was the only bookshop on my journey where I left without buying a crime novel—though, ironically, this would have been the perfect place for one.
Book i bought:
Halldór Laxness: Under the Glacier