Reykjavík, by far the biggest city in the country, is still small — it’s about the size of Berkeley…or Fargo. With a hard-scrabble heritage and a vibrant culture, today it offers a tourist-friendly mix of old and new.

While short on world-class sights, Reykjavík certainly has an urban vitality, with plenty of restaurants and shopping to keep visitors entertained. It’s unexpectedly cosmopolitan, with an artistic, bohemian flair.

And it’s blustery. Iceland can be cold even in summer — this is a typical day in July…and so is this. If you don’t like the weather…just wait a few minutes.

Reykjavík’s neighborhoods are enlivened by street art. A blank wall will just get tagged with graffiti anyway, so instead, homeowners hire talented street artists to create colorful murals.

It seems every street leads to Hallgríms Church, crowning a hill in the town center.

Designed by Iceland’s state architect in the 1930s, the church represents the national style. Stark and utilitarian, yet beautiful, it evokes the island’s volcanic landscape. Stairstep gables echo Iceland’s basalt cliffs.

The interior is…Lutheran: serene and austere. The glass is clear, not stained…and the altar is a simple table.

An elevator whisks visitors to the top of the tower for panoramic views over all of Reykjavík. Two out of every three Icelanders lives within sight of this steeple.

In front of the church stands a statue of Leif Erikson. Born here in Iceland, this Viking explorer is believed to be the first European to set foot in the Americas — about five centuries before Christopher Columbus.

The modern sculpture called the Sea [Sun] Voyager is an homage to those Scandinavian adventurers who — beginning in the ninth century — loaded up their ships, set sail into an uncharted ocean, and brought civilization to this uninhabited island.

Iceland, so harsh and desolate, steaming with volcanos, was settled over a thousand years ago by early Norse farmers. Imagine the original Icelanders: hardy folk eking out a living on remote farms and living in isolation. They chronicled their lives in the sagas — a blending of historical records, tall tales, and legends.

From the age of the Vikings the country grew slowly. By the mid-1700s all of Iceland still only had about 50,000 people, and Reykjavík was just a big farm. As trade — mostly fishing — increased, and towns began to form, Reykjavík emerged as the capital city.

The National Museum collects artifacts from these early days of Iceland.

A society made of wood doesn’t leave much behind. But a few exquisite items — like these ornamental horns, and these whalebone carvings — survive.

Pagan Iceland converted to Christianity in about the year 1000. Until relatively modern times, Icelandic settlers lived in rustic cottages. Existence may have been bleak, but families were tight-knit. Many Icelanders lived simple lives — much like this — until the early 20th century.

Life was tied to the sea. Icelanders sailed in open boats, fished for cod, and hunted shark for their valuable liver oil.

More and more, symbols like an official national costume, and its own flag, demonstrated a growing sense of national identity.

Iceland remained part of Denmark through the 1800s. Iceland-born politician Jón Sigurðsson lobbied in Copenhagen for independence — which Denmark finally granted in 1918.

Iceland’s parliament — called the Alþingi — may seem humble. But it represents a thousand-year journey in this society from rustic farmsteads to today’s modern, democratic nation.

For locals, Parliament Square remains a place to make your voice heard…or to just hang out.

Reykjavík still has a hardworking harbor, busy with both industrial vessels and sightseeing boats.

And, in just the last generation, boldly modern condos and office towers show how today’s Iceland is charging into the future.

And a fine example of that is the super-modern concert hall called Harpa.

In the lobby, the sky reflects like you’re inside a giant honeycombed prism. This extravagant use of space — and glass — put Iceland on the world’s architectural map when it opened in 2011. Welcoming the public, a hit with locals and tourists, and busy with conferences and concerts, Harpa is the hub of the country’s cultural and community activity.

This island is proud of its homegrown artists — especially the sculptor Einar Jónsson, who in the early 1900s, was inspired by Rodin.A welcoming sculpture garden is filled with his bronze works.

Inside the Einar Jónsson Museum are the plaster originals. Jónsson’s works are intense and emotive. You’ll see Viking warriors, bold explorers, protective women, and lots of drama. He blended elements of Christianity, Old Norse legend, Greek mythology, and his own belief that every person contains at least a kernel of goodness. A visit here reminds us that even small countries produce talented artists, like Jónsson, worth getting to know.