Icelandair has built its latest campaign on a simple bet: that Iceland's landscapes are so extraordinary that even a self-confessed terrible photographer can capture something worth keeping. To prove the point, the airline recruited Blanche Mortemard, a Parisian who describes her own camera roll as a collection of bad photos, and sent her on a ten-day road trip across the island.
The campaign, part of Icelandair's broader "Real Unreal" initiative, is a direct response to the flood of AI-generated images and misleading travel content online. Gísli S. Brynólfsson, the airline's director of global marketing, told Euronews Travel that the idea emerged after Icelandair posted real photos of volcanic eruptions on the Reykjanes Peninsula and the Northern Lights. "This sparked conversation about whether the photos were real or not, and we realised people had just stopped trusting images on the internet related to Iceland," he said.
Mortemard's selection was no accident. Out of 127,642 applicants vying for the title of "world's worst photographer," her portfolio stood out for its genuine lack of skill. "Her lack of talent isn't something you can imitate," Brynólfsson noted. The airline's message is clear: the real Iceland doesn't need filters, nor a skilled photographer, to impress.
Ten days, 7,000 photos, and a few fingers in the frame
Mortemard, who had never visited Iceland before, landed in Reykjanes, about 50 kilometres from Reykjavík, and immediately began her unconventional assignment. Over the next ten days, she shot roughly 7,000 images, covering lava fields, the geothermal waters of the Blue Lagoon, the Seljalandsfoss waterfall, the Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon, and the Hverfjall volcano. She also took on a bingo card of challenges, including an "iconic selfie," witnessing a geyser eruption, and photographing a funny road sign.
Despite the dramatic scenery, Mortemard's early photos still bore the hallmarks of a bad photographer—her fingers frequently appeared in the frame. "There were lots of times where I would see the mountains and waterfalls and think, 'even I can't mess this up', but I'm still credible as a bad photographer," she said. As the trip progressed, however, she began to improve. "I started thinking more about what I wanted to capture and where my fingers are," she admitted.
By the end of the journey, Mortemard had developed a genuine eye for composition. Her favourite shot came at Kerlingarfjöll, a colourful mountain range in the central highlands, where she felt her new skills finally showed. A close second was at Vestrahorn, a dramatic peak on the southeast coast. "I managed to capture the atmosphere: the mountain had a crown of clouds and the sand was gliding across the ground. This was one of the first times I didn't just press 'click', I decided the angle and what I wanted to share," she said.
The experience also changed how she travels. "I'll think more about road tripping, rather than just staying in one place for too long," she said, reflecting on the variety of landscapes she encountered in such a short time.
Icelandair's campaign is a playful but pointed rebuttal to the rise of AI in travel marketing. As Brynólfsson put it, "When it comes to representing Iceland in images, there simply is no need for AI." The airline's bet appears to have paid off: Mortemard's photos, fingers and all, are a testament to the island's raw, unfiltered appeal.
