National Museum of Iceland in Reykjavik: Accessibility, Tickets & What to Expect

As a student at the University of Iceland, I was encouraged to visit the National Museum more than once, and it quickly became one of my top recommendations for friends coming to Reykjavik. Each visit revealed something new, but here’s what struck me most.

The first thing that caught my eye in the permanent exhibition was, of course, the Viking objects. Human remains, laid out in a glass case on the floor, sit alongside runic inscriptions carved into tools and everyday items. But the piece I was most excited to see was the Eyrarland Statue of Thor. After appearing in countless books on the Viking Age, finally seeing it in person felt a bit like meeting a celebrity.

Dated to around the year 1000, when Iceland converted to Christianity, the statue has long been debated. Is it Thor gripping Mjölnir, as described in the Þrymskviða Eddic poem, or is it Christ holding an Icelandic style cross? Some scholars have even suggested it was a gaming piece, like those found in Baldursheimur. Perhaps, though, it was deliberately ambiguous, appealing to both pagans and Christians in a time of transition. A similar casting mold for both crosses and Thor’s hammers in Denmark shows how craftsmen would happily stock and sell both to appeal to a wider demographic.

Beyond the famous pieces, I was drawn to the small, everyday items that tell bigger stories, brooches, combs, fishing hooks, and tools. As a budding runologist, one of my favourites was a rune-inscribed turf-cutting spade from around 1100. The text reads, Páll owned me; Ingjaldr made me. Not only does it show how people thought about ownership, but also how objects could speak for themselves, written in the first person like inscriptions across the ancient world. This fascinating phenomenon will be the subject of my thesis.

Leaving the Viking and Commonwealth sections, I was struck by the faint sound of church music. This leads into Iceland’s medieval Christian past: wooden crucifixes, altarpieces, and, most famously, the Valþjófsstaður door. Carved around 1200, it shows a knight, a lion, and a dragon, along with a short runic inscription. The story is from the French legend of Yvain, the Knight of the Lion by poet Chrétien de Troyes, though it also appears in Icelandic Romance sagas like Konráðs saga. The door may even predate the written Icelandic versions, perhaps reflecting oral tradition or closer contact with continental Europe. Its inscription reads: See you mighty king here buried who slew the dragon. It’s one of the most beautiful pieces in the collection, and one I recommend seeking out. If you have an interest in runes & runestones, I have a list of 20 artefacts and objects with runic inscriptions that you can visit in sites and museums, from Greenland to Türkiye.

From there, the exhibition moves into the Reformation. The standout object here is the Guðbrandsbiblía of 1584, the first Bible fully translated into Icelandic. Equally eye-catching is the Cana drinking horn, ornately carved by a farmer, Brynjólfur Jónsson of Skarð.

Upstairs, the focus transitions to the post-Reformation and modern era. Displays include national dress from the 19th century, photography of a poverty-stricken Iceland, and everyday items like embroidery, clothing, and tools. It’s a quieter part of the museum, often overshadowed by the Vikings, but no less important in telling the story of how Icelanders thrived into the modern nation we see today.

I finished my visit, as usual, in the bookshop, and left with a copy of Sixty-Six Manuscripts From the Arnamagnæan Collection which takes you through some of the most interesting and important manuscripts written in Iceland.