Population 182, Plus Thousands Of Rocks

A quick visit to Petra’s Stone Collection in Stöðvarfjörður

The Eastfjords might still be the most remote and least accessible part of Iceland — but their quiet charm, tiny fjordside towns, and sense of deep stillness are well worth the long drive. One long weekend, I managed to book a cute Airbnb in Stöðvarfjörður, with no real plan other than to follow Route 1 south and see where it led.

A Quick Visit To Petra’s Stone Collection In StöðvarfjörðurThe familiar south coast road greeted my partner and me with the usual sights — Skógafoss with its ever-present rainbow visible from the road and the landscape a patchwork of moss and lupine. A few hours into the road trip, we stopped for coffee at Skool Beans Café, housed in an old American school bus parked on the outskirts of Vík. Later, we grabbed a veggie hot dog at a stall by Jökulsárlón. Somewhere near Höfn, a trio of wild geese flew past in perfect formation, gliding down onto still water like seasoned pilots — feet lowered like landing gear, if that helps you picture it.

Just past Djúpivogur, we saw a herd of reindeer walking casually along the roadside — a sure sign that we’ve officially made it to East Iceland.

We tried our luck in Djúpivogur looking for dinner, but eventually ended up in Breiðdalsvík — the only open place in the area was the bar at the local hotel, where a sign above the counter read: “Everyone should believe in something. I believe I’ll have another beer.” Honestly, there are worse things to put on a tombstone.

A few steep turns later, winding up a curvy road, we arrived at our destination.

Quirky side of Stöðvarfjörður

Stöðvarfjörður is a tiny town stretched along the main road, home to just 182 people as of 2024. A few scattered houses, a blue church, and dramatic rocky cliffs veiled in drifting clouds. It’s easy to take in the view and keep driving, especially on a night like this. Picture early June: fields bursting in purple, the air humming with life, and the sky caught in that soft, never-ending dusk that makes you forget what time it is.

“At a time when women were expected to keep the house tidy and bake bread, Petra was out scrambling up hillsides in search of agates.”

The town had been on my list for a while, for two reasons. First, the Fish Factory Creative Centre — a former fish processing plant turned multidisciplinary arts hub. It hosts residencies in everything from visual art and printmaking to sculpture, music, and photography, drawing artists from all over the world to this far-flung corner of the country year-round. Second, Steinasafn Petru (Petra’s Stone Collection) — a museum packed with minerals and crystals gathered by the late Ljósbjörg Petra María Sveinsdóttir over the course of a lifetime. I’m still saving the Fish Factory for another visit, but on this short trip — just as the town was coming back to life after winter — I managed to make it to the latter.

A house full of stones

It’s not unusual to find museums in Iceland tucked into unexpected places, but this one stands out for its scale and the quiet dedication of the woman behind it. Set in Sunnuhlíð, the former home of Ljósbjörg Petra María (1922-2012), the museum spills into the garden, offering a glimpse into what her grandson describes as a “practically uncountable collection” of stones and minerals. In truth, it contains thousands upon thousands of specimens — often described as one of the largest private stone collections in the world.

Petra — whose name fittingly means “stone” in Greek — started collecting rocks as a child. But it wasn’t until she married and built a home with her husband that the collection really began to grow. Before that, she’d often leave her finds behind, simply because she had nowhere to keep them.

There were no roads in Stöðvarfjörður until the late 1960s, and travel through the Eastfjords was difficult. Most of Petra’s stones were gathered from the mountain slopes surrounding the town.

After her husband’s death in 1974, Petra made a decision: she opened the doors of her home to visitors, welcoming anyone curious to see her growing collection. That’s how the museum began to take shape. Today, long after Petra’s passing, it’s still lovingly kept by her children and grandchildren.

Wonderfully wild

Inside the house, most of the space is now taken up by shelves lined with stones and minerals — mostly different types of quartz, in just about every colour imaginable. There’s lavender haze, turquoise blue, burnt orange, and a full spectrum of white and grey. Some of Petra’s original rooms have been preserved, offering glimpses into the home as it once was — filled with family photos, embroidered paintings, and other memorabilia, including Petra’s Order of the Falcon, awarded to her in 1995 by Vigdís Finnbogadóttir.

“Paths twist between wild vegetation, small handmade waterfalls, footbridges, and rows upon rows of stones.”

Alongside the stones are handwritten notes, bits of information, and occasional photos of Petra herself — often standing proudly beside some enormous rock. Some of the pieces are impressively big. It’s easy to imagine Petra, a grandmother in her later years, standing on a hillside, trying to figure out the logistics of getting that rock back to her living room.

And it wasn’t just rocks. Petra also collected pens, matchboxes, cups, handkerchiefs — even seashells — all of which are now on display in a dedicated corner of the museum. There’s also a small café on site, offering soup, pastries, sandwiches, and coffee — served either in the garden or the house’s sunroom.

While the inside of the museum is more curated, or perhaps structured, I ended up spending most of my time in the garden. It’s a bit more chaotic — in a good way. Paths twist between wild vegetation, small handmade waterfalls, footbridges, and rows upon rows of stones. Garden gnomes peek out from behind oversized tulips and overgrown grass. In one corner stands Petra’s so-called favourite: a hefty chunk of chalcedony and quartz. At the centre, a life-size wooden statue of Petra herself keeps watch over it all. If it weren’t for the rocks — and, honestly, the slightly unsettling realism of that statue — this could easily be any elderly Icelander’s garden.

Atli Freyr Steinsson for The Reykjavik Grapevine

Some might’ve called Petra a hoarder — and I’m sure more than a few did. At a time when women were expected to keep the house tidy and bake bread, she was out scrambling up hillsides in search of agates. In a town this small, that probably raised a few eyebrows. But what she left behind is something else entirely. In this remote fjord, Petra found a way to fill her world with purpose and colour. Call it what you like — I’d say it’s a pretty rock-solid legacy.

Petra’s Stone Collection is open from May 1 to October 15, daily from 9:00 to 17:00. Admission is 2.000 ISK. More info at steinapetra.is