An alarm at 4:30 AM is rarely welcome, but some visions demand sacrifice. I'd seen Reykjavík's famous Sun Voyager countless times in photographs, always surrounded by tourists, hands reaching out to touch its gleaming surface. I wanted something different—a moment alone with this iconic sculpture when light and circumstance might reveal something new.
The still-dark streets of Reykjavík felt like my own as I made my way to the waterfront. No tour buses, no crowds—just the occasional cat slinking between buildings and the distant sound of water against shore. The gamble of early rising paid off immediately: the Sun Voyager stood completely alone on its circular platform, waiting silently for the day to begin.
Between Night and Day: The Perfect Moment
Photographers know that timing is everything. Arriving before sunrise allowed me to watch the transformation unfold—the sculpture first appearing as a dark silhouette against deep blue, then gradually catching the first hints of golden light as the sun approached the horizon. I set up my tripod low to emphasize the sculpture's dramatic lines against the sky and mountains beyond.
The technical challenge lay in balancing exposure. I shot at f/8 for depth of field, ISO 160 for clarity, and bracketed several exposures to capture both the sculpture's detail and the subtle colors of the sunrise. A graduated neutral density filter helped tame the brightening sky while maintaining detail in the foreground.
The Viking Ship That Never Sails
Though commonly called a Viking ship, the Sun Voyager (Sólfar in Icelandic) was actually created by artist Jón Gunnar Árnason as an ode to the sun and the promise of undiscovered territory. It's a dreamboat, an homage to hope and freedom—themes that felt particularly poignant in the silence of early morning.
The sculpture's polished stainless steel creates a fascinating relationship with light. As the sun rose higher, each curve and angle caught the golden rays differently, creating an ever-changing play of highlights and shadows. The piece seemed alive, responding to each subtle shift in the morning light.
The Reward of Empty Spaces
By 8 AM, the first tour groups would arrive. By 9, dozens of people would surround the sculpture, each waiting their turn for the perfect selfie. But in this brief window between night and day, the Sun Voyager belonged to no one and everyone—a private showing of one of Reykjavík's most photographed landmarks.
This is why I continue to rise before dawn despite the protests of my warm bed. These moments of connection—when popular places reveal their true character in solitude—are worth every minute of lost sleep. The emptiness around the sculpture allowed me to move freely, finding compositions that would be impossible during busier hours.
Voyages Worth Taking
Have you ever visited a famous landmark in unusual hours? Those early morning expeditions often yield the most meaningful experiences. I'd love to hear about your own sunrise photography adventures or your experiences with Iceland's iconic sculptures.
If you're planning a trip to Reykjavík, consider setting that early alarm. The Sun Voyager at sunrise offers a completely different experience than the one found in guidebooks—one where steel dreams meet golden light, and for a brief moment, you might believe this metal ship could actually set sail.
