gush gush

There’s a place here in Reykjavík called the Family Park and Zoo, which as the name suggests is a park for families [i.e. they have play equipment for kids, rides, etc.] and a sort of mini-zoo, with domesticated farm animals, as well as wild animals found in Iceland: seals, foxes, minks and reindeer. Recently they’ve also set up a sort of mini-aquarium, with a few species of fish and other oceanic critters.

Anyway, each year during Midsummer Night they open the park between 11 pm and 1 am, for anyone who wants to listen in on the cows talking, or who fancies a roll around in the dew. They’ve also got lots of other things going on: a bonfire, live music, “strange creatures” roaming around [i.e. people dressed up in costumes], and suchlike. I’ve been meaning to go ever since AAH was little but have never got around to it - until last night. I was talking to a good friend on the phone who mentioned that she was going and told me just how great it was. EPI came home around 11 and I managed to coerce him into coming with me, and we ended up having a really fun time, even if we didn’t have any little kids with us.

We first came upon the seals, who were curious as ever. Is it any wonder the Germans call them “sea dogs”?

Next we checked out the aquarium. Can you spot the flounder?

Ah, there he is:

We went to listen to the cows, but this little guy, at least, wasn’t talking:

Whereas this guy had a lot to say, but I promised I wouldn’t tell …

In a tent there was a band playing jazz …

And outside there was a field for rolling around nekkid in the dew [note the clothes rack, very inviting]:

Meanwhile, Midsummer Night was encroaching on the little lake [although this photo was taken just prior to the one above - the position of the camera made it look darker than it actually was]:

On the way back out we bid farewell to the seals again [can you spot them?]

And on the way home, there was a gorgeous sunset:

… with the Sólfari sculpture looking like some strange prehistoric animal:

And that concludes our little Midsummer Night mystery tour. Thank you for joining us!

TODAY WE HAD YET ANOTHER STUNNING DAY
White-hot, brilliant sunshine. I was sitting inside today working [in an actual proper office] and it was SO HOT. I felt really sluggish and realized I hadn’t actually felt that way on account of the summer heat since I lived abroad. [Implications? Discuss.] Our economy is going to hell, the krona is in free-fall, Icelandair laid off 200 people today, gas is up to ISK 173 per liter [USD 7.40] … but at least we have beautiful weather. Temps right now 12°C [54F], sunrise this morning was at 2.57, sunset due for 12.03 tomorrow.

Went to the end-of-the-year showcase performance by students at the National School of Dance this evening, held at the Reykjavík City Theatre. My youngest stepdaughter was performing … it’s her last show at this particular venue as she’ll graduate at the end of the fall semester and these performances are generally only held there in the spring. Anyway, as I sat there I started to get yet another case of the warm and fuzzies about living in Iceland because … THE TALENT. It’s amazing how many talented people there are in this country and how freely and exuberantly they display that talent. I mean, we’re a nation of 300,000 people, f’rcryingoutloud, and yet you NEVER sense that in the creativity of the people here. It would be so easy for this city or this country to be like any old outpost of the same size where people have no hope and no faith in their own resources or their own creativity, but instead it’s the opposite. In Iceland, virtually everyone is creative, and virtually EVERYONE believes they can do anything, even conquer the world. And as I sat there and watched these kids so full of energy and promise and just giving their all to what they were doing, I just thought YES! Just … YES!!

SCORCHER!

People: I got my first sunburn of the season today. It was fantastic. Went out to meet some colleagues for lunch and we ended up at the amazing Jómfrúin, which had tables set up out on the sidewalk. We were there for just over an hour, and I have a very fetching, sunburned half-moon on my chest matching the scoop neck of my American Apparel top. And it was HOT. At least 17°C in the sun. Right now it’s 8°C [46F], the sun came up at 4.15 this morning, went down at 10.35 this evening.

Here in Niceland we get the phenomenon known as the árshátíð, which literally translated means ‘annual celebration’ and figuratively translated means ‘a big party in which there is entertainment and everyone gets juiced and to which you must wear really nice clothes and get your hair done beforehand.’ [NB ‘juiced’ is not an absolute requirement, particularly if the árshátíð is being thrown by, say, SÁÁ]. Every company and every organisation and every saumaklúbbur* and every equestrian society and every organized group of any kind will inevitably throw an árshátíð for its employees/members once a year, that is if they want to be taken seriously as a company/society/sewing club/whatever.

Anyway, over the years the árshátíðir have been getting progressively more extravagant, and now many companies, organizations etc. throw their parties in other countries. Most often this will entail their employees flying over for free, while spouses have to pay for their flight but generally get a discount. Hotel accommodation is included for 2-3 nights, and there is a lavish dinner on at least one of those nights.

Two years ago, EPI’s company invited everyone to Copenhagen for their árshátíð, last year it was Hótel Búðir, and this year it’s Berlin. EPI and I have also travelled to Paris on one occasion, courtesy of another employer. Needless to say I consider this one of Iceland’s more pleasing traditions.

EPI and I have decided to extend and are staying a full week. We’re meeting up with friends that I haven’t seen for about 15 years, not since we both lived in Essen … from there they moved to Berlin, I moved to Iceland. They’ve got an entire day planned for us on Sunday, replete with custom sightseeing and then dinner at their place. Can’t wait!

And so dear readers, the next installment of The Iceland Weather Report shall be brought to you from Berlin. Bis dann!

I’M NOT SORRY TO BE LEAVING HERE
Because the weather has turned cold and nasty again, read: windy. I went out this morning completely unsuspecting, imagining a perfectly amicable morning to greet me, but NO. I froze my buns off, walking downtown. As the day has progressed the wind has only become colder and stronger, so I’ll be glad to wave bye-bye. Sunrise this morning at 7.52, sunset at 7.23; temps currently 2°C [36F].

PS. I’ll be sure to give you a full toilet report.

* A saumaklúbbur is also a Nicelandic phenomenon, which literally translated means ‘sewing club’ and figuratively translated means ‘a bunch of women who get together on a regular basis and try to outdo each other in the lavishness of the refreshments they serve.’ It generally has very little to do with sewing.

Yesterday was a perfect day. Brilliant sunshine in the morning, so EPI and I had the instant desire to stick our cross-country skis in the car and head up to Heiðmörk*.

First, though, we had to go grocery shopping at Krónan [formerly known as stupid old Krónan – we shall see if they manage to amend their ways in their brand-new shiny store] to pick up something yummy for dinner that could marinate while we were enjoying the great outdoors. [Incidentally, where besides Iceland do can you bump into the Prime Minister at your local discount supermarket? Methinks nowhere.] As it happened, Krónan had potted Crysanthemums and Begonias on special, so we bought one of each, which was like bringing home sunshine in two pots.

Before heading to Heiðmörk, though, we had a brief stop to make. EPI’s mother would have turned 80 yesterday, had she lived, so first we headed to Blómaval to pick up a rose. [While there, we couldn’t resist adopting a few more flowering plants: three miniature crysanthemums, and four pots of tête-a- têtes, the most delightful harbingers of spring in my opinion.] Up in the cemetery everything was covered in snow, so EPI made an angel on his mother’s grave, just like she’d taught him to make when he was a boy.

Heiðmörk was exquisitely beautiful as always. By the time we got there it was around 4.30 and the shadows were growing long. The sun was still intense, though, and the snow looked it had flakes of glitter scattered on it. We skiied for about an hour and a half, and towards the end the sky was exquisite and snow was all pink and blue. Mind you, it had got pretty cold by that time [with the sun gone and everything] so YT was suffering an attack of Raynaud’s Syndrome, which was rather unpleasant. It must be said: I was not designed for winter sports.

Still, it was totally worth it, and just twenty minutes later we were snug back at home, where we our lamb filets were waiting for us in the perfect stage of marination, along with their compatriot, a bottle of Chilean Merlot. Perfect.

TODAY IS NOT QUITE SO LOVELY

There’s a miserable cold wind out there and the whole day is flat and uninspiring. At noon today the good people of the Westman Islands were being advised to stay inside their homes on account of the weather – apparently they were experiencing the greatest amount of snowfall since 1968 and even rescue squad vehicles were getting stuck. The dreaded cold puddle is still very much active, I see. Right now -1°C [30F] and feels like -8/17F. Sunrise this morning was at 8.30 am and sunset due for 6.50 pm.

* Nature reserve on the outskirts of Reykjavík.

EPI and I have just come back from one fantastic concert: Hinn Íslenski þursaflokkur with the Caput ensemble, performing at Laugardalshöll arena.

This was their 30th anniversary concert and they reassembled for just this one night, having disbanded in 1982. The Laugardalshöll was packed [it takes around 5,500 people, according to Wikipedia], which gives some indication of their popularity, even today. Truly, they are one of the best, if not the best, Icelandic bands ever. They’re one of those cultural treasures that mirror a sense of identity, strength and pride. Their sound resonates in the heart and consciousness of everyone who has their roots here. I’m not sure foreigners would get them in the same way … I’m just not sure – but I would venture to say that to really truly get the soul of Iceland, you have to get this band.

Basically, when they started they took ancient folk songs and ancient text, and transposed them into the 20th century, without losing any of their ‘folky roots’ – ach! I dislike that phrase, so generic … let’s say, without losing any of their ‘unique Icelandicness’.* Their sound is one that I think every Icelander responds to because it evokes the isolation, the melancholy, the remarkable tenacity and resilience of the people who eked out a living here in centuries past. My absolute favourite song of theirs is Grafskript – a sung composition of an exquisitely beautiful text found on a gravestone from 1763. You can see them perform it – with Caput – on Kastljós [a few days ago] here.

Anyway, the concert was amazing, the band was stupendous, and Egill Ólafsson – ‘band leader’ for lack of a better term, was funny, warm and completely engaging – like he was entertaining 5,500 of his best friends at home in his living room. I don’t like this [overused] word, but I’ll use it tonight: AWESOME.

SNOW, TEMPS AROUND THE FREEZING MARK
-2°C [28F] to be exact, and the sun comes up later today at 8.59 am and sets at 6.25 pm.

* Mind you, some of their later material was a bit more modern – they composed music for the stage, for example, which isn’t really of the same ilk.

My car’s in the shop, so I’ve been zipping around on a rented Toyota Yaris since yesterday. I’m completely smitten. It’s so nimble. So quick. So easy to maneuver out in traffic.

I don’t want my old car back. I want the Yaris.

SNOWING AGAIN
But not too much, so that’s OK. And there’s no wind, so that’s doubly OK. And I have a Yaris to drive around, so I don’t care anyway. Temps currently -1°C [30F] and the sun came up at 9.05 am and set at 6.19. And now if you’ll excuse me, I must go watch an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Always dreamed of owning your very own Icelandic sheep but just couldn’t find a place for it out on the balcony? Well, now you can, thanks to kindur.is, which allows you to either adopt or purchase a sheep [aka kind] on an Icelandic farm, name it, choose a ram for breeding, utilize the wool from it and, if you so choose, have the meat from its little lambs processed and sent to you every autumn [sniff]. Although presumably you have to be within Iceland to make use of that last option.

Isn’t that just the most ingenious idea you’ve ever heard? After all, adopting children through the SOS programme or UNICEF is just so passé, and anyway, they don’t produce any wool.

Seriously though, I think this kindur.is a brilliant concept. It works like this: you go online and choose your sheep and whether you merely want to adopt, or whether you would like to buy. If you adopt a sheep you get a Christmas card with your meh-meh on it, which provides details of what it’s been up to over the year [… grazing, and, um … grazing], you get access to the farm that fosters your sheep and are allowed to visit it five or six times a year [note the set limit – not sure the farmer would think it’s a great idea if you were there every day, gazing lovingly at your sheep out in the meadow], and for a nominal fee you get the wool from your sheep when it’s been sheared and can have it sent for processing, which would eventually mean the delivery of a pair of mitts, or a scarf, or a hat, to your very own doorstep. Or even all three, if you have a large sheep.

Meanwhile, if you purchase a sheep, you can pick out the one you want from an online catalogue, give it a name [although you may have to have it approved by the Naming Committee – no ‘Lucifers’ please], visit it five or six times a year, and during an open house day at the farm you can pick out a suitable mate for your sheep and then, come autumn, get the products from their, um, offspring sent home. For a nominal fee you can have the wool processed, as above, and for an additional nominal fee you can have your sheep inseminated by the ram of your choice, picked from a register that lists all of Iceland’s hottest ram studs, yowsa [for those who want only the best for their Elsie]. Also, you can have your meat processed the way you want it, e.g. smoked, and also the sheepskin processed to make rugs, gloves, hats, and so on.

Apparently this venture has been met with resounding enthusiasm and sheep farmers nationwide have really taken to the idea. Meanwhile, EPI and YT are still deliberating on whether to adopt, or whether to try and produce our own. Stay tuned.

ADDENDUM: Hlédís, who owns kindur.is, has written a comment in the comments box, explaining about the English-language version of her site, and more.

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT SPRING WAS HERE
It starts to snow again. Met my neighbour outside this morning while clearing the snow off the car and we both agreed that we were getting more than a little weary of this. I mean, what’s all this about global warming, and why can’t we have some? Currently 1°C [34F] and the sun came up at 9.08 and will set at 6.16 this evening.

I’ve just watched an unbelievably absorbing and powerful documentary entitled Afghanistan Unveiled, which reveals how life has changed for women in the five years since their so-called ‘liberation’ from Taliban rule.

Surely there are few places on earth where the circumstances of women are as dire as in Afghanistan today. There are so many war brides, and no social security system in place, so with the breadwinner gone women are forced to beg on the streets, enduring scorn and humiliation from the men who pass by. The reason for their poverty is never considered - they’re seen as a virtual object, an object of shame. The reporter donned a burka and went out begging with a woman she’d met on the street, and we - the viewers - saw the world through the mesh on the veil, including the derision by the males who gathered all around. Frightening.

Herat, the most prosperous town in Afghanistan, has an alarmingly high rate of suicide by Afghan women who set themselves on fire to escape horrific domestic situations. Of course not all are successful - meaning they’re horribly disfigured for life. One girl the documentary featured was twelve and was sold into marriage at the age of seven. She ended up burning herself from the waist down.

Afghanistan has the second highest infant mortality rate in the world. The reason? A woman needs the written permission of her husband and her mother-in-law to go to the hospital. Even to give birth. Very often they arrive at the hospital strapped to a ladder that someone is carrying, hemorraging severely from a ruptured uterus. They don’t even have the power over their own bodies to decide when or if they need to go to the hospital. Obviously many women die in childbirth - and there’s an unspoken rule that those who do are never spoken of in the town again. It’s as if they never existed. And because they’re not spoken of, it’s as if the problem doesn’t exist, and it keeps perpetuating.

When Afghanistan was liberated from Taliban rule and democracy was to be introduced, the West poured millions of dollars into rebuilding the country. That money seems to have vanished. There was an incredibly inspiring scene from a girl’s school, which showed young girls running around outdoors, playing, laughing … exactly how it should be [of course girls’ schools were banned under the Taliban]. Only - the documentary didn’t show much learning going on because there aren’t enough classrooms in which to teach the girls. There are half-built buildings all over the place, and no money to complete them - despite the fact that the aid money was earmarked for projects like that. So the girls have to be taught in shifts.

One of the most heartwarming scenes was from a village in the remotest part of the country, the mountainous north, which was previously a Taliban stronghold. [Site of those infamous mountains where Bin Laden was - is - supposed to be hiding out.] The reporter was surprised to find a school in a tiny village, which taught not only boys AND girls, but also deaf-dumb students, using sign language. The lesson we, the viewers, got to see was about Afghanistan, about the abundance of the land, the quality of the fruit and vegetables, and how the children should respect their country. Afterwards, the girls all grouped around the reporter, clearly in awe. They then invited her to accompany them to their home - and the whole entourage set off, with two little girls holding the hands of the journalist [they were probably around 7-9 years old]. As they walked, the journalist remarked, in English, that she wasn’t sure if she’d be let in to their homes, as the community was insular and not very open to strangers. However - much to her surprise, she found that there were no parents. These children were orphaned and lived by themselves. Their home was immaculate, and they were so open and joyous. They had dreams for the future - they wanted to get an education, and then work in the village, make a contribution. It was beautiful. Such a lust for life, even when they had so very little.

This documentary made a deep impression [can you tell?] - perhaps best measured by the fact that, immediately after it was over, a TV ad for a new Hagkaup department store came on, where to the soundtrack of some sappy chirpy song we were accosted by the lavishness of the available commodities. All those shiny-happy people wallowing in their over-indulgence made me feel really ill. I am all for prosperity and abundance, but sometimes the greed and avarice in this society really freaks me out. Particularly when I’ve just watched how the other half lives.

AND WE HAVE ANOTHER STORM ON
Calm yesterday, stormy today. A familiar pattern, no? Severe gusts of wind right now and buckets of rain coming down. Looks like we’re in for a green [or red, as we say here] Christmas. Currently 10°C [50F] - sunrise was at 11.18 and sunset at 15.29.

Last year when EPI and I got married, our four exceptionally wonderful daughters gave us a fabulous wedding present: a night at the Hotel Saga plus dinner at Grillið, their in-house restaurant that happens to be one of the best in Reykjavík. It’s taken us almost a year to fit this little outing into our busy schedules [a scandal, really], but last night we finally managed it.

EPI’s main concern was that we’d get bored. I mean, we planned to check in at 2 pm and dinner wasn’t until 9.30 – what would we do in the interim? However, he comforted himself with the thought that, if push came to shove, we could always go home, seeing as how we live only five minutes away by car.

Personally I had no such worries, because as I pointed out to EPI, the hotel actually has a spa at which we could hang out for the duration of the afternoon. This generated even more anxiety for EPI, because by his own admission he didn’t know what to do in a spa. [I was going to mention Brazilian waxing, but decided against it.] Plus we could take a book and actually lie in bed and read, or – you know – whatever. It was supposed to be a romantic getaway after all.

So we checked in around three. The first half an hour was a bit weird; we unpacked our bags and examined the slippers and bathrobes folded neatly on the bed, stared out the window a bit, and then for lack of a better activity sat in the armchairs provided and read the newspapers. That took us up to about 4 pm, when it was time to take a deep breath and venture out to the spa.

After a bit of humming-and-hawing about what to take with us [bathrobe? towel? slippers?] we finally made it down there, only to discover that three Nicelandic couples had staked their claim to the Jacuzzi and were drinking beer and generally having a rowdy time. Great. So we alternated between the steam bath and the sauna and eventually shuffled over to the Jacuzzi after the ladies had retired to the changing room, only to discover that this Jacuzzi has salty sea water in it and the bubbles have this rhythm that is just so soothing, and OMG it’s fricking amazing. So we basically we just flaked out there completely inert until the woman who worked there came and told us the spa was closing and we had to get out now, otherwise she’d have to pull the plug.

Anyway, cut to a few hours later, and we were sitting on the eighth floor up in Grillið being served the meal of a lifetime. Seriously. The food was to die for. This was my second time eating at this particular restaurant and both times it’s been out of this world. [Meanwhile, the service was merely adequate, but that’s hardly news around here.] We picked the ‘Discovery Menu’ and the discoveries consisted of the following: an appetizer of king crab with buttery sauce; seared tuna steaks with a little croquette ball with a tiny zuccini slice inside and some other delectable accompaniments; pan-fried plaice with scallops and mango foam; melt-in-your-mouth beef with mashed potato all artistically carved and arranged plus vegetables and oxtail something wrapped up in like a pastry type thingy set on top … see? Words fail me.* I can’t even begin to describe what it was like. – Oh, and not forgetting dessert, which consisted of something called a ‘banana club’ [as in ‘sandwich’], crème brulee, sorbet and a fourth something that escapes me at the moment.

Along with these mouthwatering treats we were poured three different kinds of wine – Riesling with the fish, Shiraz with the beef, and a Hungarian dessert wine with dessert. Yowsa!**

AND THEN WE WOKE UP TO A BEAUTIFUL DAY
And despite still being stuffed, went down to a lavish hotel breakfast before packing our things for home. I’ve decided that staying in a hotel that’s right near your house is the only way to travel – you’re not stressed out about forgetting something, and you don’t care how you pack before you leave the hotel because you know you’re going to unpack ten minutes later. But I digress: the weather was exceptional today, brilliant sunshine and temps hovering around the freezing mark. As soon as we got home [and unpacked] we went out for a long walk and tanked up on some daylight, which was clear and bright enough to take us through to the end of next week, I should think. Currently –2°C [28F] and the sun came up at 10.05 am and set at 4.20 pm.

* PS I reserve the right to be wrong about the food descriptions. It was all so exceptionally artistic and complex that I can’t remember what everything was called.

** I should probably mention, for anyone intending to follow our example, that delightful as this dinner was, it didn’t exactly come cheap. Two four-course ‘Discovery Menus’ accompanied with ‘a glass’ of wine with each course [it was actually only about half a glass] came to ISK 25.500 [USD 418 / GBP 204]. In my opinion the wine was the least value for money - it was fun to try different wines, but we could have easily ordered two bottles for the price they charged. Just FYI.