Above 63

I didn’t have a car in Reykjavik and I didn’t miss it

This past week I had dinner with a former student. He talked about living in downtown Milwaukee and how he walks a lot instead of driving. He’s even thinking about getting rid of his car. We talked through the pros and cons of that decision, and I’m looking forward to seeing what he ends up doing. He was especially interested in my experience living in Reykjavik without a car for five months.

When I got my apartment in Reykjavik, I was pretty sure I could make it work without a car. I was close to the grocery stores, it was a 20-minute walk to work, and two major bus lines went right by my apartment building—one of them went directly to the mall. Those first few weeks in August were the real test. Actually, the very first day was the test, since I needed to stock up on groceries. I carried four bags of groceries 0.3 miles to my new home. A few days later, I hopped on the bus to the mall to pick up some accessories for the apartment. After that, I decided to stick with the no-car lifestyle. It wasn’t always physically easy, but I have plenty of friends who regularly do more serious exercise than carrying groceries through downtown Reykjavik.

So how much walking did I do over five months? I logged 750 miles (not quite 500, then 500 more—like the song). If you know me, you know I have the data to back that up.

My walking had more to do with urban design than just deciding not to have a car. I had places to walk. I walked to work, to the park, to dinner, to coffee shops, to visit friends, and to concerts and events. I took the bus for longer trips, and—if you remember from an earlier post—I’ve Come to Love the Electric Scooter. I could walk because the built environment allowed me to do it easily and effectively. I saw people out and about shopping, playing as families, and sitting on benches.

It’s not so different from home, where my transportation mode is an actual choice—car, bus, walking, biking, etc.—and where the walkability score is around 80 (https://www.walkscore.com/). I regularly walk to routine destinations and social spots that are within a 20-minute walk (which is a lot).

One of the more surprising things about walking everywhere is that you understand the landscape differently. I had some friends from Germany visiting me in Reykjavik, and we were driving around the city. I was in charge of directions. I quickly realized that while I knew my way around on foot, I had no idea how to drive to most places. I didn’t recognize one-way streets or the most efficient routes because I thought like a pedestrian.

The same is true at home. If I’m off to Colectivo, Three Lions, the park, or the Metro Market I execute the journey differently because I’m not bound by the restrictions of traffic patterns or parking.. I also get to walk through the neighborhood, admire peoples’ gardens, and see neighbors on the street. My time in Reykjavik made me think about this and appreciate my neighborhood even more.

I have a friend who has started an initiative called the Shorewood Longevity Project. It is a multifaceted project aimed at increasing health and well-being. Its core elements leverage the kinds experiences I had while living in and walking through Reykjavik (Movement, Social Connection, Connection with Nature, and Nutrition).

If I lived in Reykjavik long-term, I’d probably get a car eventually—but I’d still approach daily life the same way I do at home. Many journeys simply don’t require a car. It’s really just a matter of choice. I appreciate that I have the ability to make the choice.

That’s why I appreciated the conversation with my former student so much. He’s navigating these same questions—how to live well in a city, how to balance convenience with sustainability, and how to shape daily routines around movement and place. I don’t know what he’ll decide, but I’m glad he’s thinking about it. It’s not just about having a car or not—it’s about being mindful of how we move through the world.