North to the Trolls: from Akureyri to your first turns on Tröllaskagi

The aircraft tips into its descent and the window fills with a landscape that has nothing in common with the airport you left behind. Below, the sea cuts the coast into dark blue inlets, and beyond the runway, white peaks drop straight into the water. This is no longer urban Reykjavík, nor the volcanic heath of the south. This is the north — the part that skis — and the journey to Tröllaskagi has just entered its final stretch.

This is usually the moment, right here, when skiers realise they haven't come for a resort. Reaching the Troll Peninsula takes a little patience — an international flight, a connection, a road along a fjord — and every one of those legs adds another layer to the pleasure. Here's how it goes, and why the trip itself is worth telling.

The approach from the air sets the tone: in north Iceland, the mountains fall straight into the fjord.

Keflavík, the way in

Almost every long-haul flight to Iceland lands at Keflavík (KEF), the international airport, about forty minutes' drive from Reykjavík. It's the common starting point, whether you arrive from London, Geneva, Paris or a transatlantic hop. You collect your bags, feel the air shift — sharper, saltier — and the real question becomes how to get north.

Isavia, which runs Iceland's airports, publishes the practical details you'll want for arriving at Keflavík and moving on to domestic flights. It's worth a look before you leave, if only to pin down connection times.

Two routes then lead to Tröllaskagi. One goes by air, the other by road. Neither is a chore; one saves time, the other hands you one of the finest drives in the country.

By air: the connection to Akureyri

The most direct way to reach north Iceland is a domestic flight to Akureyri (AEY), the capital of the north, tucked at the head of the Eyjafjörður fjord. These flights generally leave from Reykjavík's city airport (RKV), more central than Keflavík — so you'll want to allow for a transfer between the two, which is easily done by road.

The flight itself is short, around three quarters of an hour, and it earns its place on the itinerary. You cross the interior highlands and the glaciers, then the aircraft banks into the Eyjafjörður, tracks along a wall of mountains and sets down almost at the water's edge. Few landings make you want to click into your bindings quite so quickly.

Depending on the season and the year, seasonal services can make the run north easier; schedules change from one season to the next, and that's exactly the kind of detail we check and lock in for each group as we build the trip. The point isn't to leave you juggling connections — we handle that.

By road: the Ring Road north

The other option has its devotees, and I understand them. Reaching Akureyri from Reykjavík on Route 1 — the famous Ring Road — means crossing Iceland at its width, through country that changes every half hour: wind-scoured plateaus, snowy passes, valleys where hot springs steam, hamlets set right on the water.

It's a long drive — around five hours in good conditions — but it's also the best way to feel the scale of the place and arrive in the north having already "read" Iceland. In spring the snow still lingers on the high ground, and road conditions can shift fast from one day to the next.

Before you take the wheel at this time of year, the sensible reflex is to check SafeTravel.is, Iceland's official travel-safety portal, and the road administration (Vegagerðin) for live road conditions. Weather and conditions can turn within a few hours in this part of the island. That said, most of our skiers favour the flight to spare their legs and arrive fresh: keeping the road in mind is still useful for grasping exactly where you're headed.

The last leg: from Akureyri to the lodge

Once you're in Akureyri, there's still a fine stretch of country road to reach the lodge, somewhere out on the Troll Peninsula. You leave the town, follow the fjord, pass isolated farms and fishing villages with brightly painted roofs, and always, to the left or the right, those peaks rising in a single line from the shore.

This is the transfer that gives the lie to everyone who thinks "getting there" is time wasted. Here, every bend reveals a possible line, a couloir, a face you'd love to be on the next morning. The week's terrain unfolds in front of you before you've even pulled out the skins.

The lodge is private and takes small numbers — two groups crossing paths, never a crowd. You drop your bags, find the drying room, catch the smell of dinner coming together. Outside, the northern light stretches late into the evening at this time of year. This is when the journey stops being a journey and becomes a stay. We organise that stay end to end: our heli-assisted ski touring trip on Tröllaskagi lays it out in full.

When to arrive — and why to come in the day before

The golden rule of any ski trip to the far corners of the map holds here too: you arrive the day before the first ski day, never at the last minute. A long-haul flight, a connection, a road — that always leaves room for the unexpected, and nobody wants to start their first skin track grey-faced with their bags running late.

Arriving an evening ahead means an early night, letting the body settle into the northern light, and waking up ready. The Tröllaskagi season runs from March to late May, with the heart of it in April and May: lengthening days, spring snow that works well, and those windows when the sun stays high long enough to link several tours. On choosing your dates precisely, we lay it all out in our piece on the best time to ski Tröllaskagi.

The skiing that waits for you

Come morning, the rhythm of the week takes shape. The skiing is heli-assisted ski touring: the helicopter handles access, a drop from a zone about twenty minutes from the lodge, and from there you climb on your own legs, on skins, to the tipping point. The helicopter is simply the key that opens terrain otherwise out of reach; the heart of the trip is the ski touring — the quiet of the climb, the space around you, and the joy of a descent no one else is tracking.

Groups stay small, four skiers, five at most, led by a qualified mountain professional — a specialist off-piste ski instructor or a mountain guide, depending on the terrain. And the reward has staying power: on Tröllaskagi you often start from a ridge and descend until the sea grows larger in front of you. That's the whole subject of our cornerstone piece on heli-assisted ski touring from summit to ocean, which tells you what you come here to find.

Skinning up at first light: on Tröllaskagi, almost every tour keeps the fjord in your sights.

The descent to the ocean, the signature of Tröllaskagi.

North Iceland isn't just around the corner, and that's precisely what makes it worth the trip. The flight, the connection, the road along the fjord: every leg pulls you further from crowded resorts and closer to terrain few skiers ever see. The day the window reveals those mountains dropping into the sea, you know you were right to come this far.

To arrange your journey — flights, connections, transfers and dates — get in touch: we build the trip with you, from touchdown to first tracks. Let's talk about your Tröllaskagi trip.