March 2005

EPI gave me flak for writing nasty stuff about old Robert Plant and quite rightly too. It was wrong of me to slag him off by saying that he was old and has a saggy bum because after all, what do I know? I haven’t seen the man in years. [That’s to say, when I saw him last weekend he was thirty years younger than today. ] So I’ve deleted that part. With an apology. [But the other part still stands because he really did sound like a girl so that’s not slander.]

And while I’m here and posting my second post of the day - is there any show on television or anywhere more emotional than ER?? It returned to our screens this evening after a seven-week hiatus and boy, AAH and I were in shock the whole entire time, and I cried at least five times. So either I’m turning into a sappy, guilt-ridden, emotional wreck, or I’m hitting menopause. Or both.

EPI, being privy to my recent rediscovery of and super enthusiasm for Led Zeppelin – not to mention being a superexcellent boyfriend – went out last weekend and borrowed the DVD of The Song Remains the Same from one of his pals. Hoping of course to thrill and delight YT with concert footage of the Zep in action. He even set it up so that, as soon as YT arrived couchside, Stairway to Heaven began to play.

I really wish he hadn’t done that.

Rarely – if ever – in the history of rock ‘n roll music has any icon fallen so far, so fast. YT sat and stared in stunned disbelief as Robert Plant tossed his hair around, making the stupidest and most effeminate hand gestures ever conceived, thrusting his hips and strutting his stuff like Sex God Supreme wearing these icky-yucky-tight-tight jeans that left nothing at all to the imagination and were no doubt supposed to get the general female population all hot and panting but which just came across as hardcore sleaze. Then he turned and left the stage and his bum was all saggy but what really did it was when, in one clip, he actually opened his mouth to speak and he sounded exactly like a girl. A girl, I tell you! A girl whacked out on illicit substances. What a turn-off!!

So now YT is trying hard to forget. And has decided to give the Robert Plant concert a miss next month.

MEANWHILE, IN MORE DELICIOUS NEWS
YT is nothing if not fair. And having ranted about the Enrico’s fiasco must now tell you about some fabulous food imbibed yesterday at a place called La Primavera, which is one of those fusion places of which I recently spake in a post, with Icelandic-Italian coming together in an ever-so excellent fashion. [It’s modelled along the lines of the River Café (where Jamie Oliver started out) and they have, in fact, had guest chefs from there on occasion]. AAH and I were ‘doing lunch’ to celebrate her getting good grades and we both decided to go for the three-course fixed-price lunch menu.

For starters I had bruschetta with salt cod and almond aioli, served with arugula salad – so yummy! AAH went for prosciutto with arugula but she didn’t care for hers, only because she’s a kid and was making the discovery that she doesn’t like prosciutto. The main course was grilled halibut with capers and boy, was it fabulous! It was done to absolute perfection – the fish totally succulent and probably caught that very morning. AAH went for tagliatelle with wild mushrooms and, alas, discovered she doesn’t much like wild mushrooms either, but did a fairly heroic job of polishing it off nonetheless. For dessert: Chocolate mousse with strawberries and a vanilla sauce. With this came gorgeous Italian bread (two types) and bread sticks, with an oil and vinaigrette dip.

So if you’re coming to Iceland and want an excellent lunch, go there. The atmosphere is super airy and light and at ISK 2,200 [USD 37 / GBP 19] for the three courses the price really cannot be beat – especially here in Iceland. But it shoots up at dinnertime – so beware! [And no, they’re not paying me to write this (unfortunately), I merely have the interests of the general tourist population at heart, especially those for whom I have ruined the wonderful Icelandic swimming experience.]

THE WEATHER
A bit colder than in recent days, and overcast. But there’s hardly any wind, which is a plus. Have just been for a power walk around the golf course [basically because I needed oxygen but wasn’t really in the mood for walking so I wanted to get it over with fast] and the duck pond [which also happens to be there, although there are rarely any ducks, probably been hit by golf balls too many times] had not a ripple on it. Current temps are 5°C and daybreak was at 6.03, nightfall: 21.03.

Did I happen to mention that the tourists have arrived? I did? Oh, what I meant to say was: THE TOURISTS HAVE ARRIVED!

They’re everywhere. Windbreaker-clad, backpack-geared, map in hand. [Incidentally, for those of you who don’t know, Iceland gets more tourists per annum than the population of the country. Which considering the fact that we’re a mere 290,000 is probably not so newsworthy.]

I love having people visit. I’m thrilled that this country is so popular and that people come here and are awed by it. I delight in the fact that so many people are discovering the remarkable beauty of this land.

However.

There is one thing.

I have to get off my chest.

WARNING: RANT COMING UP
If you come to Iceland, and want the real Icelandic experience, you will want to visit one or more of our amazing swimming pools, with their excellent Jacuzzis, hot pots, water slides, steam baths, et al. I can also assure you that won’t be able to get through a visit without being tempted to visit the incredible Blue Lagoon.

If you do decide to do this, you will surely notice that inside the dressing rooms there will be little diagrams everywhere. These are all the same and show a likeness of the human body with key areas highlighted, specifically: hair, armpits, crotch, feet. And when I say these are everywhere, I mean on the inside of your locker door, hung on the walls in the dressing room, in the shower area – in short, displayed in such a way that they are impossible to miss.

Now, in order to avoid misinterpretation, there will also be text, which will read: ALL GUESTS ARE REQUIRED TO WASH THOROUGHLY WITHOUT A SWIMSUIT, in five different languages. [Allow me to add: … BEFORE YOU GO INTO THE WATER].

OK. I know that this will make some people panic. I know that not everyone in this world is raised from infancy like we are, to observe this rule religiously every time we go to the swimming pool [which for the average Icelander is often]. Which is why this is something that is so deeply ingrained into the national conscience that seeing anyone blatantly ignoring this rule [which brings me to the tourists once again] is likely to evoke feelings, glances, even utterances of animosity and sheer hostility.

You see, we love our clean swimming pools. We love the fact that the level of chlorine is kept to an absolute minimum. We love the pristine silkiness of the water. In fact, I think many people equate the Icelanders’ longevity [which used to be highest in the world and is still up there in the top five] with the fact that swimming is our favourite recreational activity and source of health. And we want to keep it that way.

So please. Respect. And if you’re uncomfortable with taking part in this little but oh-so-important custom, well, there’s always the Golden Circle tour.

THE WEATHER
Not as nice as it was over Easter, when highs reached 17°C [62.6 F], but still mild. For a few days yet. Then we’re in for a cold spell. At the moment it’s overcast in the capital and the trees outside my window are swaying slightly, meaning there’s wind down by the shore where I shall be running shortly. Current temps are 7°C and daybreak was at 06.07, night will fall at 21.00.

I love Easter. There’s something so eminently civilized about it, such promise in the air. Plus it’s infused with springtime and the coming of summer, and as with Christmas you get all these days off but without the accompanying stress. What could be sweeter?

The [chocolate] Easter egg hunt commenced chez YT at 11 am this morning, when everyone had finally dragged themselves out of bed [oh, how I love that the kids are past the toddler age, honestly!] Here’s what the top of mine looked like:

… EPI bragged and bragged last night that he’d hid my egg so well that I’d NEVER find it. He was so annoyingly smug about it that I decided to pull out all the stops and hide his so that he’d NEVER find his, either. [Spiteful wench that I am]. Meanwhile, AAH’s egg was duly hid in the top shelf of a kitchen cupboard [that has a glass front], behind some stuff [although slightly visible from at least one angle – house rules]. RE’s egg was hid in the living room, in a corner of the window sill, behind some photo albums and with a CD stuck on top for good measure.

Whell. YT was first to find her egg, a quest that took all of five minutes. [HA-HA!] It was stuck inside a fancy-schmancy cylinder that at one time contained a bottle of EPI’s whiskey. [To be fair, EPI gave me a starting hint that it was not visible and that it was above eye level. But still – found it in the first place I looked]. AAH was next to find hers [her quest took 15 minutes or so]. RE found hers a few minutes later, while EPI searched and searched for his. And searched and searched. And was given numerous hints and then searched some more. Eventually – when the hints couldn’t really have been any more plain – he found it half-dug into the whole-wheat flour in the plastic whole-wheat flour container [tee-hee- HEE!]. Which incidentally he had already removed numerous times from the shelf but never thought to look into.

Anyway, prior to being consumed, our candy-stuffed chocolate eggs agreed to pose for a photo:

Isn’t that just the finest bunch of candy-stuffed chocolate Easter eggs you ever saw?

AND OUR EASTER WEATHER IS…
Stupendous! [Can you tell I’m making a concerted effort to find descriptive adjectives about the weather, which is just so lovely, day after day?]. On waking up this morning the sun was shining brightly and the whole world was all smiles. We ended up sitting at the breakfast [ok, brunch] table for hours, as EPI’s sister stopped by. We drank coffee and imbibed chocolate and talked about everything and nothing, and now I should think it’s about time for a run before we start cooking our Easter dinner, which will consist of a rack of Icelandic lamb with lots of yummy goodies. The sun is still poking out from between the clouds, current temps are 9°C and daybreak was at 6.15, night will fall at 20.53.

[Incidentally found that the clock on my laptop had skipped an hour – could it be daylight savings time has arrived in the rest of the world? We don’t observe it here, as it wouldn’t make a bit of difference to our darkness in winter or our brightness in summer!]

As expected, old Bobby Fischer both shocked and entertained the general Icelandic populace with his anti-Semitic, anti-American rants at yesterday’s press conference. I shall not repeat what came out of his mouth because obviously the man’s got a severe personality disorder and getting all worked up about what he said is just plain silly – in the same way as getting worked up about what a five-year-old says is just plain silly. Happily, though, he’d had a shave and a haircut so at least he appeared more civilized than he had the previous day.

Today’s headline in Fréttablaðið [which incidentally is part of the same conglomerate as Channel 2 – they used to be Northern Lights Corporation but now go by the knock-em-dead Corporate Title “365 Broadcasting Media”]:

“DIDN’T FEEL FREE UNTIL I SAW SÆMI”

Gag me with a city block! I mean, what IS IT with the media’s obsession with this so-called “friendship”, which they seem hell-bent on twisting into some sappy plot worthy of an American soap opera! Do they really expect me to believe that old Bobby, who [with all due respect] is obviously one of the most narcissistic people ever to walk this earth, was secretly weeping happy tears at the sight of his beloved friend [who note bene he’d had very limited contact with for 30 years and pretty much only when something was seriously wrong, because Sæmi is such a good guy that he was willing to sit with the blower attached to his ear and make sympathetic noises while Bobby held forth about what an enormous victim he is], and that when at long last he saw his face [which undoubtedly he had been picturing long nights in his prison cell, superimposed upon that of his fiancée – wait, this is starting to sound rather like, um…er…] then and only then did he finally feel FREE.

[‘Scuse me while I vomit.]

One of Bobby’s liberation team suggested on the radio this morning that she hoped that people would henceforth just leave Bobby alone. And that, dear readers, is precisely what YT intends to do. Leave the whole crazy business alone.

THE WEATHER
It’s truly incredible! So mild and lovely, even if it is overcast. EPI and I took a hike around our local golf course earlier [which sits at the very end of a spit that juts out to sea, so it’s like a circular seashore walk] and the scent of the wet grass just beginning to push out of the earth was so amazing that we just stopped and sniffed like those cute little furry animals that stand up on their hind legs and sniff – forget what they’re called but anyway, that’s what I imagine we looked like – and marvelled at the fact that spring is actually here! And this evening we have to come up with some ingenious places to hide the Easter eggs. EPI’s youngest daughter is spending the night and everybody gets a chocolate egg with a little chickie on top and candy inside but before we can crack them open, we have to find them. What that has to do with the weather I do not know, but there it is. Current temps are 7°C [44.6 F] and daybreak was at 06.18, nightfall due for 20.50.

Well, ol’ Bob arrived last night. Evidently there was some disruption to his connecting flight from Copenhagen so those good Samaritans at Channel 2 sent a private jet over to pick him up, which just happened to have their news editor on board. When the jet landed at Reykjavík airport, the city’s affable Commissioner of Police boarded to do the customs check, and returned with a message from the C2 news editor that poor old Bobby was so exhausted from his terrible ordeal that he would not be able to utter as much as a single word to all those reporters [some from foreign news agencies] who were there waiting. Which according to a press release sent by Fischer’s supporters and published today was a sheer lie and part of C2’s ingenious plan to orchestrate the event in such a way as to grant their reporters exclusive access to Bobby. Which is exactly what happened.

So today all those other media are severely pissed off and are making sure EVERYBODY KNOWS. Meanwhile, old Bobby, who as you can see from this pic arrived looking like he’d been cast away on a desert island for about three decades, went for a walk this morning and then requested that someone please come and cut his hair and beard. And later today he’s promised a press conference with equal access for all. Should be interesting to watch, as much for the infighting amongst reporters as for what emerges from old Bobby’s mouth.

MEANWHILE, WHAT IS SO GOOD ABOUT THIS DAY?
Here in Iceland we call it “long Friday” which seems to make eminently more sense that “good Friday”. I mean, crucifying people can’t be good. Can it?

This day used to be a day in which nothing but nothing was allowed. Movie theatres shut down, all stores were closed, no dancing or carousing was permitted [hence bars closed]… even this country’s swimming pools were not open. Now considering the fact that swimming pools are to this nation what the English pub is to the Brits [sort of like our second home], this illustrated clearly that the powers-to-be were SERIOUS about imposing upon the general populace a state of mourning [or boredom, whatever the case might be]. However. Today we have movie theatres open, two Reykjavík swimming pools open, and the bars will throw open their doors at 12 midnight and stay open until, well, whatever time they decide to close [as usual].

Meanwhile, EPI and I have our own little a tradition on this day: we go to the open AA anniversary meeting held in the Laugardalshöll sports stadium. [Some of you may remember this post about how strong the Alcoholics Anonymous movement is in Iceland]. Generally there are around five speakers and the tales of death and resurrection one hears there are enough to send shivers up and down even the most jaded spine. The stadium is always packed to the rafters [it takes around 3,000 people] and it’s really an amazing, life-affirming, joyous event: the stories of people who have triumphed over [living] death and been given another chance at life, essentially as different people. Awesome.

THE WEATHER
Is pleasant enough – mild, overcast, slight breeze, non-threatening. Perfect for a lazy stroll [or a run, for endorphin junkies like YT]. Current temps are 8°C and daybreak was at 6.22, nightfall will be at 20.47.

Well, I was determined not to blog about this, but I cannot resist. This whole Bobby Fischer scenario is just too juicy to pass up. Our new countryman Bobby is due in Iceland tomorrow, now that the Japanese have agreed to release him from the immigration prison or whatever it is they’ve been holding him in. Already he’s delighting the general populace with rants on things like how we Icelanders should “kick [the Americans] out – kick them off the Base and close down the American embassy”. [That’s BF quoted on the midday news today…]

For those of you who are new to this, here’s the abridged version of Iceland’s infatuation with Fischer: He came here to play the world championships in chess in 1972, when Iceland’s small-nation complex was even greater than it is today. Bobby won against Boris Spassky. He then left again, but kept up a friendship of sorts with one Sæmundur Pálsson [known as “Sæmi”], who was his bodyguard at the time. Much has been made of this friendship over the years, which to YT sounds all a bit dubious as it has transpired that Fischer called his friend only when he was in some kind of trouble. Like when he was arrested in Japan for travelling without a passport, as the US had refused to renew it. He had been guilty of playing a chess match in the former Yugoslavia in 1992, when military sanctions were in place.

Meanwhile, in Iceland Fischer’s supporters pushed the government to grant him residency status [which in effect would be like asylum, only it’s not called that because there was no official extradition request from the US] to get him out of Japan. After that was done [oh-so-easily], the Fischer cheering section headed off to Japan to “bring him home”, only to find that the Japanese had no intention of releasing him. They returned, and before anybody could say “strained Icelandic-American relations” the government had approved a bill to grant Fischer Icelandic citizenship, as this would ensure his release from prison in Japan.

CODEPENDENT NO MORE?
Now, I’m all in favour of the whole humanitarian slant of offering Fischer a safe harbour and whatnot. After all, I really am hard pressed to understand how the “crime” of playing a game of chess in a country that the US had declared nobody should sell weapons to, should warrant the extreme fury towards our man Bobby. I’m more inclined to think that his anti-Semitic and anti-American rants rubbed US authorities the wrong way [to put it mildly] so that they’re now “out to get him”. And to my mind, that sort of knee-jerk reaction is just plain ugly. I mean, the man is a little off his rocker and he played chess somewhere he wasn’t supposed to – but does that mean he should be stuck in jail for 10 years?

Which brings us to the Icelandic position. Now, again, YT is all in favour of the whole compassionate aspect and in fact considers it eminently civilized. I’m even prepared to accept that Iceland as a nation has a soft spot for eccentrics. But frankly I must confess that it’s all happened really quickly and without any real debate and I sort of sit here and scratch my head trying to figure it all out. Because if the truth be told, the whole business reeks of codependency.

This is especially true of BF’s pal Sæmi. The man is undoubtedly very well meaning and kind, but I must say he comes off codependent in the extreme. I mean, this man literally loses sleep because he stays up whole nights listening to his “friend” Bobby’s rants over the telephone. And then goes out to Japan to bring him home, even though there is no assurance that he will be able to do this. And note bene, this is after not seeing the man for 30 years. I could hardly contain my amazement when Sæmi came on the news this evening and declared in a slow and slightly docile drawl, “I’ve told him he can’t make those rants any more, I’ve told him that it’s not fair to us or to those who have worked so hard to bring him over here. And I just hope he stops.”

So: he’s hoping Bobby will change. For them. Because they’ve worked so hard to bring him over here.

And yet Bobby has not given the slightest indication, as far as I’ve heard, that he’s prepared to change. Indeed, if he has some sort of personality disorder [which seems highly likely] is he even capable of changing?

Anyone who’s familiar with alcoholism or other types of addiction will recognize that this is a pattern doomed to failure: hoping someone will change simply because you’ve done them a good turn. [Just to be clear: I’m not suggesting old Bobby has a drinking problem – simply referring to a pattern of behaviour]. And the strange thing is that the Icelandic government seems to be dancing the same codependent dance around Bobby – allowing itself to be manipulated in some bizarre way that one just cannot quite understand. Meanwhile, Bobby continues to come across as the tyrannical child who has morphed into an adult and who does not understand that his words or actions can have serious repercussions – for himself and others around him.

MEANWHILE, IN OTHER ASTONISHING NEWS…
Easter is upon us! Here in Iceland we look forward to a five-day holiday, starting today. Rest and relaxation is imminent and tomorrow the YT clan plus friends plan to go mussel picking at very fertile mussel grounds not far from the capital. Which means that tomorrow evening there shall be a feast with said friends, yo!

THE WEATHER
This post has gone on for too damn long and my dinner is waiting so let’s just say it’s still mild and at the moment there’s a bit too much wind for my liking. Had my winter tires removed today and summer ones put on – ahhh, a much smoother ride, not to mention how much smoother one feels ecologically. Current temps are 9°C and day broke at 6.30 and night will fall at 20.41.

Kim over at Bacon and eh’s asked about traditional Icelandic food a few days ago, and-I-quote: “I would love if you could perhaps share with us a unique dish to Iceland and maybe provide the recipe? Are your meals much different than ours I wonder?”

Now, you may [or may not] note that YT took a few days to respond. Perhaps because she was trying to craft the perfect response, one that would not leave the general Iceland Weather Report readership beating a hasty virtual retreat.

AND NOW FOR A BRIEF HISTORY LESSON:
Iceland has been its own republic for a mere 60 years. It was previously a Danish colony, and before that a Norwegian colony. In those 60 years this nation has come A Long Way. Consider: people were still living in turf houses well into the last century, and parts of the country were so isolated that folks were pretty much stuck in their general region for the whole entire winter. Consequently, people had to be pretty ingenious when it came to preserving food because, well, it had to last for months. [And we’re not talking a broad selection here – as late as the 50s, apples and oranges were luxuries that were only available at Christmas]. Favoured methods of preservation were smoking, pickling and drying. Also – and this is very important to keep in mind – the general poverty of the nation made it necessary to utilize every possible part of the animal – right down to the bones, which children used for toys.

Consequently, “traditional Icelandic” includes things like: smoked lamb [delish], salted lamb [yum], dried fish [excellent, especially with butter], singed sheep’s heads [the tongue is the best part and personally I will not eat the eye], pickled whale blubber [my favourite food as a kid], pickled ram’s testicles [yech!], skyr [a thick yoghurt-type dairy product, really tasty] and flatcakes [rye oat, sort of burnt and very tasty with butter and smoked lamb].

However, now that this nation has morphed into a Modern Republic with one of the highest living standards in the world, foods such as those listed above have more or less been relegated to novelty status [as some of you will remember from this post]. In other words, if you go to a restaurant here you are not likely to find any of that stuff. [You’ll have to go to the Kolaportið indoor market for that]. However, what you will find is lots of fusion – Icelandic chefs are pretty highly regarded in the culinary world [at least they manage to take home lots of awards] and tend to be excellent at mixing traditionally Icelandic raw ingredients [fish, seafood, lamb – which incidentally is amazing, as Icelandic sheep are allowed to roam wild for the entire summer and feed on herbs, grasses and ling] with the cuisine of other countries [France, Italy, et al].

So what this whole preamble is meant to convey is, I don’t really have a traditional Icelandic recipe to share. Those old traditional ones are sure to be a flop [plus the ingredients might be a tad hard to come by in Canada or elsewhere] and the modern ones, well, they probably aren’t all that different to Kim’s.

LÓAN ER KOMIN!!!
[Translation: The golden plover is here!!!]

The golden plover in Iceland is synonymous with summer, and the first sighting of this pretty bird is a Big Deal. And today it was spotted, just a stone’s throw from YT’s place, believe it or not. [Usually it’s somewhere in the south or east but nope, this year it is right near my place, which I will take as a sign that my personal summer will be superexcellent.] And oh, what fantastic weather we have had today! There has been hardly any wind and a couple of hours ago the sun came out and people headed outside in droves, I kid you not. Seemed to me they were all heading for the shore, where the views are gorgeous, but that may just be because I happened to be driving along the shore. Oh, and the tourists have arrived, too. Suddenly, in the space of a week, the town is full of them. Current temps are 9°C and daybreak was at 6.33, nightfall will be at 20.38.

Incidentally, it has been decided that the granting of Icelandic citizenship to Bobby Fischer will not have an effect on Iceland’s weather – today or any other day.

I’m in a blogfunk today. Maybe it’s because this keeps staring me in the face:

… I’ve developed an intense dislike for this rotund little object, which I am told is a “webcam” and which AAH uses to chat to her grandmother on MSN. It looks just a little too devious and smug for my liking and I can’t get past the idea that it is watching me like some 1984-type Big Brother thingy, greedily and surreptitiously gathering information about my bedraggled groggy state first thing in the morning [or at any point during the day, really] and simultaneously broadcasting it to the World At Large.

AND SO…
May I suggest you check out the most current entry [March 19] on Beauty Dish – especially the link. It is quite possibly the most moving blog entry I have ever read: shocking, intimate, brave, unsentimental and beautifully written.

THE WEATHER
Excellent news: three young adults who were travelling through the interior today and reported missing were found safe and sound. They’d been travelling on two separate jeeps and one of them was found abandoned this afternoon. A search and rescue team was called out since the weather is set to be very bad in the [uninhabited] interior tonight and to be trapped there under those conditions is not a situation to be trifled with. Meanwhile, in the south, still mild, light drizzle, overcast, moderate winds. Good running weather as I discovered earlier today. Temps currently 8°C [46.4F]. Day broke at 6.37 and night fell at 20.35.