Flirting With The Wilderness At Hótel Kríunes

The grating shriek of a kría snaps me into reality. I look down at my bare feet on the lakeshore, where lupin shoots are bursting optimistically through the dirt. Tapping one with a toe sends a cloud of flies pirouetting outwards through the warm air, a feast for the audible migratory bird population who chitter, croak, warble, and screech — starling, raven, plover and tern. The gentle wind draws ripples over the gleaming waters of the lake, reflecting the glorious blue sky above. On the opposite shoreline lies a thick treeline, and past that, a rugged mountain range brushed with a few last streaks of old snow.

From this vantage point, the landscape of southwest Iceland seems to be greening, sprouting, and coming alive with wildlife. I breathe in a lungful of sappy air and close my eyes, enjoying the warm wind and sunshine. For the first time this year, it feels like winter is truly over.

Unexpectedly Mexican

The lake in question is Elliðavatn, a shallow 2km tarn that sits on the boundary between Reykjavík and Kópavogur. Its idyllic nature is due to the fact that the eastern shore is the edge of the Heiðmörk nature reserve, so there’s no new construction between me and the horizon. It’s the true immovable edge of the greater Reykjavík conurbation, with only wilderness beyond.

“The upper floor has a random mariachi theme with sombrero-wearing statues and taxidermied animals in every corner.”

It’s also home to Hótel Kríunes, a cosy family-run getaway spot that sits on a small peninsula on the lake’s western shore. Initially built as a home, it became a guesthouse in 1999, its capacity gradually expanding to 17 rooms over the next two decades. A major renovation took place in 2018 when the bar and restaurant were refreshed, and nine extra-fancy new rooms were added, complete with plush contemporary furnishings and large lake-facing windows.

The hotel’s personality reflects the gradual nature of its transformation. The frontage and entrance still have a humble guesthouse vibe, and the upper floor has a random-seeming mariachi theme with stucco walls, Mexican and Spanish ornaments and instruments, sombrero-wearing statues, and taxidermied animals in every corner. When we arrive, an Icelandic family party is in full swing, with knee-high kids running around as their parents hit the buffet. In this pastoral pocket of deep Kópavogur suburbia, Hótel Kríunes is as much a hub for the local community as a restful spot for guests.

Fancily modern

Heading downstairs to the new section is a crunching gear shift into the 2020s. The downstairs “superior” suites and bedrooms are sleek and comfortable, with a minimalist aesthetic, modern amenities and design flourishes, and a stylish grey-green colour palette.

Our airy, well-appointed suite sits on a corner of the hotel, with panoramic views of the lake in two directions. It opens onto a private patio, and the shore of Elliðavatn is just a few steps away. We take walks throughout the day, watching the sky change colour as the day wears on. A giant raven patrols the shore over a trio of wading fishermen casting languorous lines for trout and char. As evening approaches, we close the sheer white curtains to enjoy the freestanding bath with some privacy; later, we’ll throw them open and log into Netflix to watch a movie against a backdrop of the fading sun.

Maximalist abandon

But first, it’s time for dinner. The on-site restaurant looks out to the lake out over a mossy roof, where starlings dine alongside us, pecking insects out of the turf. Having browsed the menu in advance, I’m sad to learn the lamb shank and crème brûlée are off the menu, and pivot to a starter of wild game soup, a medium-rare steak, and a lemon cheesecake.

“I have a feeling I’ll be back sometime when I want to get out of town without… you know. Going out of town.”

The soup is a taste explosion, with a creamy mushroom broth and chunks of heavily salted duck confit swimming up from the bottom. Each flavour seems turned up to 11, with a sense of maximalist abandon that becomes a theme for the meal. My companion’s beef carpaccio is drizzled with truffle oil and carpeted with parmesan; the enthusiastically seasoned steak arrives in a pool of savoury peppercorn gravy and heavily truffle-salted fries. We wash it all down with plenty of water and Portuguese red, and finish with a vegan lemon cheesecake served with zingy raspberry sauce and decadent caramel that could pass for the real thing.

Optimistic salmon

The next morning we hit the breakfast buffet for eggs and bacon, then take a quick dip in the spa — a pair of rustic, cabin-style hotpots and a coal-fired sauna — then reluctantly wish the suite goodbye.

Before the 20-minute drive into town there’s time to trundle to the end of the road and inspect a pretty little dam and a disused salmon ladder, just metres from Route One south. As I gaze over the lake, the hotel looks back from across the water, blending in with the shoreline discreetly — an arcadian secret on the very edge of Reykjavík, all but invisible to passers-by. I have a feeling I’ll be back sometime when I want to get out of town without… you know. Going out of town.

Book a stay at Hótel Kríunes at kriunes.is