Hulda Brynjólfsdóttir holds a midnight cloud in her hand. “This wool here is from a sheep called Tina,” she says, as we stand in her mini-mill, spinning the cloud into yarn. Behind her, mounds of soft fleece line floor-to-ceiling shelves. In contrast to Brynjólfsdóttir’s effortless demonstration, I’m doing a poor job of spinning Tina’s high-quality coat into yarn, but she just smiles, matching the welcoming mood. The space is open and bright, with 11 large blue machines that perform everything from spinning to yarn separating. A sea of spaghetti-shaped wool dries on racks, tagged with tickets of ownership on top.
The name Hulda means “hidden,” and unless you already knew about Uppspuni Mini Mill in South Iceland, you’d probably breeze right by on your way to the region’s countless waterfalls and other natural attractions, as I had on my six previous visits to the country. But on this trip, I’d landed here by word of mouth, on the heels of a recommendation gifted to me in true Icelandic fashion: while chatting with strangers in a natural hot spring.
Brynjólfsdóttir and her husband, Tyrfingur Sveinsson, took over his family’s sheep farm in 2011; however, sales of sheep meat dropped drastically in 2016, due to factors including overproduction, expanding domestic tastes, and a trade embargo that caused a significant dip in exports. So, they had to find another way to stay afloat. “I’ve always been interested in keeping old ways of doing things, which is why I was drawn to spinning. Our partnership works well; he fell in love with the machines, and I fell for what we could do with them,” she says. Today, Uppspuni is the first mini-mill of its kind in Iceland, with small-batch production. Visitors can participate in an educational tour, take a workshop, and peruse the loft gift shop.
“All the things I’ve done before have prepared me for this,” Brynjólfsdóttir says, referring to her former careers as a horse trainer and a teacher, and most recently, to her study of agronomy. “It’s the path I should be on.” Still, Brynjólfsdóttir finds all of it virtually implausible, reflected in the mini-mill’s moniker. “Uppspuni means to ‘spin a tale or a lie,’ and we often say that’s the way this happened, because it’s unbelievable.” As we head upstairs to the cozy shop, she shares that even this space was born from coincidence; a roof leak was the catalyst for renovating the loft and rounding out the business.
Rows of shelves house bundles of soft yarn arranged by color; the wooden-planked walls are adorned with meticulously knitted sweaters and exquisite woolen wall hangings created from the scraps Brynjólfsdóttir never wastes. Above, delicate wool garland is strung in festive celebration.
Uppspuni is the first mini-mill of its kind in Iceland, with small-batch production.
Photo by Lauren Breedlove
I peruse the loft shop’s knitting patterns and kits, wooden chests filled with hats and gloves, and tiny woolen ornaments, where I select a round gray sheep for this year’s Christmas tree at home. The vast yarn selection is a clever marriage of folklore and fiber, each named with Icelandic folk tales in mind. There’s Dís, meaning “fairy” and Brynjólfsdóttir’s signature yarn, Hulduband, meaning “hidden woman,” among others.
“The North Atlantic Native Short Tail sheep came with the settlers in 874, and we still have the same breed,” Brynjólfsdóttir says. She shows me two types of hair, a long curly one that keeps the sheep dry thanks to its water-repellent properties, and a shorter, insulating hair. Iceland averages 10 to 14.5 days of rain a month, with impromptu wind gusts from 20 to 70 miles per hour and temperatures ranging from 20 to 55°F. Historically, wool has been a natural and crucial buffer against these elements.
“Our sheep’s wool is the only thing that really keeps us warm; it’s an amazing material,” Brynjólfsdóttir says. “The sheep have kept us Icelanders alive, feeding us and clothing us, giving us tools from its horns. Their life is intertwined with ours in Iceland’s history and heritage. In my heart, I’m a lover of animals. I’m here for my sheep and they for me; it’s a circle that’s important to me.”
Pure Icelandic wool is notoriously soft, and Brynjólfsdóttir aims to maintain the wool’s silkiness while educating on the importance of keeping the process natural and on the value of passing the knowledge on to future generations. “Chemicals take the softness out of the wool and harm the environment. Our pride here is to work with the natural colors of the sheep, using no chemicals.” She explains that a clothing item made of cheaper synthetic blends, like nylon or polyester, contains microplastics, which ultimately shed into the environment every time we wash them.
“The romance of coming here would disappear if we were in a bigger place somewhere in the mainstream. I’m happy to stay this size,” Brynjólfsdóttir says. Being a mini-mill in Iceland, Uppspuni has opened the door for smaller-scale wool production, even for individuals who may have as little as one of their own sheep’s fleece to transform into yarn—a task that wasn’t possible in the bigger mills, such as the well-known mill Álafoss. Shepherds with small farms who yearned to produce yarn for selling had to team up with other farms to meet the weight limit at Álafoss. Then, they were still limited to producing only certain varieties. At Uppspuni, the door is open for these shepherds to generate a wide range of farm-specific yarns, ultimately giving them control and creativity.
Brynjólfsdóttir’s success has also inspired other local businesses, like her friend’s Spunasystur “Spinning Sisters” group, and Fjárhúsloft, an arts-and-crafts store that hosts regular workshops. Uppspuni is also part of The Woollen Circle, an informal tourism route created in 2020 by the women behind some of the smaller wool shops in South Iceland. It overlaps with the famous Golden Circle, connecting three countryside wool stops and a restaurant that travelers can visit on their own or with a guide. In 2026, there’s slated to be a second South Iceland Wool Week, where visitors can attend events such as exhibitions, lectures, sheep shearing, and classes and workshops on various subjects.
“My dream would be for Uppspuni to keep on going on its journey, being an honest and ambitious mini-mill. But for myself, I would love to continue to share the knowledge that I have gained by giving lectures and courses not just about wool, but also about our way of farming and sustainable living,” Brynjólfsdóttir says. “Sometimes, things lead you exactly where you need to be.”
How to Take This Trip
Uppspuni is not far from the Ring Road, and about an hour from Reykjavík.
Photo by Joanne Wastchak/Shutterstock
Uppspuni is in South Iceland, a quick jaunt off the Ring Road and about an hour from the capital city of Reykjavík. Educational tours of the mill can be booked by appointment, and cost depends on the size of the group. To schedule, contact Hulda Brynjólfsdóttir by email at huldauppspuni@gmail.com. She plans to host a workshop this spring but is open to requests based on what guests are interested in learning.
Other local wool shops to check out in the area include Þingborg and Hespa in Selfoss. Slumber at nearby Hotel Rangá, where you’ll be positioned to participate in a slew of adventurous activities, including horseback riding, ATV buggy rides in the Highlands, waterfall chasing, ice-cave exploring and, of course, hot-springs soaking. The hotel can also arrange a visit to Uppspuni.
