Gatklettur, the stone arch on the cliff edge

Gatklettur sits a few minutes' walk east along the cliff path from Arnarstapi harbour: a lump of columnar basalt with a near-circular hole worn clean through it by the sea. Waves push into the arch and explode out the far side, and on any half-decent swell the whole thing works like a bellows. Around it the coast is a run of collapsed sea caves, blowholes and stacks in the same black rock.

The classic composition puts the couple on the grass rim with the arch below and behind them, framed so the circle stays a circle — move a few metres and it closes to a slot, which is why the exact stance matters here more than at most spots. A longer lens from further along the path stacks arch, stacks and the cliff line into one graphic frame. The coast faces roughly south-west, so evening light comes straight along it and the arch backlights beautifully; in June that light holds close to midnight, and in December it is a couple of low golden hours in the early afternoon.

Seabirds nest on these cliffs through the summer, and arctic terns nest in the grass around the path from roughly May to August — they defend the ground aggressively and will dive at heads. Stay on the marked path, do not walk into the grass to find a better angle, and respect any nesting signage or closures; a raised hand and a brisk walk-through is the local answer to terns.

The edge itself is the real hazard: unfenced in places, undercut by the same sea that made the arch, and slick when wet. Keep several metres back, never step out onto the arch or the stacks, and remember that this coast takes big swell without warning. It is also genuinely windy — the pull-off and the path are exposed, and gusts here are strong enough to move a person near an edge.