Desiree and Derek got married at Búðakirkja, which sounds like a threat and turned out to be a perfectly reasonable place to get married.
Black church. Open ground. Bad temperatures. A venue that already knows what it is.
Derek had already been to Iceland once before for an ultramarathon, so his first introduction to the country had involved more suffering and slightly worse judgment. This trip was the more flattering sequel, and for the most part Iceland agreed to cooperate.
The morning
Getting ready happened at Hotel Búðir: champagne, a robe with the hotel’s name stitched into it, a bridesmaid fastening the back of the dress. The usual flat-lay set made a brief appearance too — invitation, pearls, engagement ring — and then the room got on with more interesting things.
The better details were the less official ones. A plate of red jellybeans was being held like it was part of the brief. They were for Derek, whose sweet tooth had clearly been treated as planning information. Dog-portrait cufflinks were covering family representation.
There was also a handwritten note dated March 11, 2014 on the plate beside the candy, and another letter being written in the next room. Nice balance. Deep sentiment on one side, sugar on the other.
The ceremony
They headed out to the church with Iceland doing its usual thing in the background. Wind. Space. Sky acting important. Búðakirkja stood at the end of the grass, small and black and uninterested in competing with any of it.
Desiree walked in with her father. She had the dress, the veil, and a fur stole — the stole doing some of the work the Icelandic wind was otherwise going to try to do. Candles ran down the aisle. White bows were tied to the pews. Derek waited inside. Everyone briefly stopped pretending they were handling it normally.
The ceremony was small. No extra production, no inflated version of the moment. They said what they had come to say, the church held it close, and nobody needed to add anything to that.
Back outside
Afterward we went back outside, because the scenery had already done too much to ignore. The fur stole started earning its keep properly. Desiree, to her credit, looked less like someone posing in the weather and more like someone who had decided in advance that the weather was not going to win.
Derek, meanwhile, had already completed an ultramarathon across this exact country, and was now doing work as both groom and logistics support. Previous Iceland visit: him against the country. This one: the country against his wife, him in between.
The landscape carried on without needing much from us. Big water. Mountains behaving themselves. A sunset that was going to happen whether we were ready or not. We took the pictures we came for and stopped before the cold started making decisions on everybody’s behalf.
Indoors, then one last overreach
Back at the hotel, the groom’s cake appeared. Chocolate, naturally.
Alongside it: Dr Pepper in a silver ice bucket. For anyone unfamiliar with the specifics, Dr Pepper is Derek’s settled position on soft drinks. Between the jellybeans in the morning, the groom’s cake later on, and a bucket of Dr Pepper at the reception, the day had quietly acquired a theme. Desiree knew. Everyone in the room knew. Somewhere in the logistics, someone had handled the importation of Dr Pepper to rural Iceland, which is not a trivial act.
The wedding, it turned out, had also been a small infrastructure project on behalf of the groom’s preferences. He seemed genuinely moved by it, in the quiet way of someone realising this had all been noticed well in advance.
They ended up on a sofa together later, which is usually when the day starts telling the truth. Champagne in hand, leather sofa, framed photographs behind them. Less mythology. More proof.
The day still had one last Iceland move in it. Northern lights at the end, because apparently the black church and the mountains had not yet made their point strongly enough. Useful, though.
So that was their wedding day in Iceland.
A black church that refused to over-perform. Harsh air. Good light. A fur stole doing half the work. Someone sourcing Dr Pepper for the groom. Strong opinions from the weather throughout.
Everyone involved, including the landscape, kept doing their job.
Not a bad way to do it.
If you’re planning a wedding in Iceland — or anywhere else that looks slightly severe in the most flattering possible way — get in touch. You can also see more couples work on the Lovers portfolio.