The sky over Reykjavík has a habit of making you look up. On a wind-leaning evening, with the city’s low lights smeared across Faxaflói Bay, a single vertical column of white reaches for the clouds from Viðey island — not a star but an engineered shaft of light that seems to cut the night into two. Walk toward it and the city noise thins: gulls blur by, tidal ripples applaud the shore, and the tower — Yoko Ono’s Imagine Peace Tower — stands less like a monument and more like an invitation.
You reach the installation after a short boat ride from Reykjavík Old Harbour, the harbor’s working hum dissolving into sea-salt air. The boat nudges the jetty and you step out onto Viðey, an island that reads like a condensed history of Iceland — grassy slopes, scattered sculptures, an old farmhouse, and the modern, purposeful presence of Ono’s beacon. The experience is simple and disproportionally resonant: a geothermal-powered column of light projected skyward, a short audio piece narrated by Ono, and the hush that follows. In a country famous for raw landscapes and volcanic temperament, the tower’s calm plea for peace feels exactly placed.
The Imagine Peace Tower is part art, part ritual. Unveiled in 2007 as a tribute to John Lennon, it’s lit seasonally and on select dates — a literal and symbolic light kept alive by geothermal energy, which echoes Iceland’s commitment to harnessing natural power. The island itself has older stories: Viðey hosted monastic settlements in the Middle Ages, then later served as a summer refuge for Reykjavíkers and a site for early artistic experiments. Geologically, the island sits on basaltic bedrock forged by the same tectonic dynamics that created the rest of Iceland: black stone under moss, and cliffs where the sea keeps its old promises.
Culturally, the tower aligns with Reykjavík’s dual personality: brash enough to make bold public art, reflective enough to hold a quiet, shared moment. Guides on the official 1.5-hour evening excursions (departing from Old Harbour) fold in a short recorded piece by Ono; you’re offered a hot drink; you learn that the light’s raw power is filtered through a prism and powered by the island’s geothermal systems. The company running the trip — an operator known for minimizing environmental impact — emphasizes quiet, small-group visits that preserve both the monument’s aura and the island’s nesting birds.
But Viðey isn’t only about minutes of hushed contemplation. Around the bay, Reykjavík’s marine life stages more active performances. In summer, puffins dip and dive just off the island; a different sort of tour — a Reykjavik Bay jetski outing — promises close encounters with these clowns of the sea. On a jetski you feel the Atlantic’s push, the cold spray daring you to blink, and the surreal sight of a puffin gliding in a pocket of air, unbothered by human joy. The jetski option is for people who want motion with their marine viewing: small groups, a knowledgeable leader, and the freedom to chart a course where the birds and the sea offer their best acts.
Practicality threads through both ways to visit. The Imagine Peace Tower trip is short (about 1.5 hours including round-trip boat time), best booked for an evening when the light is scheduled to be on. The jetski tours run in summer months when seas and bird activity make for reliable wildlife sightings. Footwear matters: Viðey’s paths are grassy and wind-exposed; a stable, waterproof shoe keeps you comfortable. Dress in layers — Iceland’s weather changes faster than a flash photograph — and bring a small daypack for essentials.
For photographers, the tower and its setting are a study in contrast. Long exposures render the light into a knife; a wide lens captures the relationship between city, island, and sea; and a telephoto on a bright day brings puffins into storybook focus. Respect the installation and the wildlife: no climbing, no loud disturbances, and abide by guide instructions to preserve both art and bird.
If you’re planning the trip, time it: summer gives you puffin chances and near-midnight twilight; shoulder seasons give moodier skies and more solitude. And think about what you want from the night. Do you want the stillness of a memorial, the adrenaline of a jetski, or both? Combine the tower tour with a daytime island walk or a nearby jetski/wildlife outing, and you’ll get both the contemplative and the kinetic sides of Reykjavík.
The Imagine Peace Tower is modest in footprint but expansive in effect. It asks nothing more of you than a few minutes’ attention, but gives you a rare kind of travel currency: an evening memory that lingers like the afterimage of light. On Viðey, the Atlantic keeps talking; the tower listens and replies with quiet insistence — imagine peace, and carry that light home.
