Oct. 24,2009

Saturday. Last full day for most of the Airwaves volunteers. Woke up and did some damage control from the people who went out last night. Went back to sleep. Woke up around 4. No food in the house, and no one to accompany poor old me in shopping. Strap on my pack and hop on my bike. Luckily, the close Bonus is open again. Load up the bacon and honey and apples and milk and processed visceral spread substitute and whatever else these ravenous zombies have been feasting upon, lately. Get some drawing done and generally sequester myself in my room for the rest of the day. People from the north camp returned today, so it was good to see some old faces, most of which I was unable to attach a name. Figured I should go out for everyone's last night. Stomached as much Disorrono left over from last night's dessert as I could, and sneaked out to Zimsen with Jamie and Peter. Beer specials ending at midnight trump waiting around for friends en masse. Had a few beers, discussed the finer points of flatulence and American kickassery. Got a call from Julia saying that the northern lights were out. Being a perfectly clear night, it was not an option to miss the event in the confines of an dead bar. Plus, the beer special was ending. Emptying our glasses, we three headed for the sea coast. Looking up into the sky, we couldn't see anything, and began to think we had missed it. But upon descending the rock retaining wall and losing some of the city glare, we could see faint streaks coming from the eastern horizon. Looked a lot like light pollution from an adjacent town, except the nearest adjacent town in that direction is probably Halifax. Took some long exposures with my temperamental camera, and an amazing green light show left its mark on the CCD. Watched the ribbons slowly ebb and flow until they died out. Headed back to the house in good spirits. Kjartan was off of work and headed to a hip-hop concert down at NASA. Interested in Iceland's take on the genre, so headed with him. Wasn't too into the first act; generic dance music mixed with a crowd much more inebriated than I. Main act was good, though. Bunch of Icelanders singing in Icelandic about Iceland. The sound at first struck me as similar to 1990´s preppy MTV rap attempting to be 'hardcore', but their emotion and stage presence made up for the utter lack of cultural connection. Also, the lyrics seemed decent after Kjartan explained them to me. Was a welcome release to knock around the wasted meathead section of packed crowd that I found myself in the middle of. Headed back toward the house, met up with Matevz, Jamie, Peter, Lucas and others. Somehow quickly lost the others. Ended up at Jacobsen, dancing in the downstairs bar. 'Twas hot as hell down there and after quite the extended bout, we left, quite tired and drenched in sweat. On the way back, took quite a lot of time taking pictures of us jumping over things. Maturity hath no quarter. We talked awhile with a female Icelandic basketball player. Also with random drunkards and some kids that had some moonshine and knowledge of the Philadelphia rap scene. Avoided the water blasts of the street cleaners. Made the final turn into the yard. Convinced the last Beatles-singing drunkard that he did not live with us. Ate some garlic butter toast and made it to bed around 8:30.

Oct. 13, 2009

And on this day...very tired. Got suckered into going out by Isidora, despite my refusal to drink and my near-comatose state. People flying around me, saying nonsensical words. Ended up going to karaoke night, with jerk-ass Isidora staying home, believing that sickness was an excuse to strand me with these savages. Was a good time at Oliver's, though. Sang Bar Fly by Jeff Who? with Kobi and Kjartan, with Kjartan being unable to sing the second half of the song, as he was in laughing fits from listening to my guttural explosions. Left a bit earlier than everyone else to avoid being trapped in a living room full of amoral drunkards. Soon after retiring to my bed, I hear the bass beat of Barfly coming from downstairs. Realizing defeat in this initial battle with consciousness, I join in the revelry for a while. Quiets down, get back to bed. Woken up again. Sigh.

Oct. 12, 2009

Shit, it has been a while. Been too tired to write these things. On a Monday, went for a bicycle ride, as the evening sun was too much to ignore, and no one wanted to walk with me. Felt about 50 degrees with zero wind. Rode along the sea, stopping by an old fish-drying shack. Cool little bunker in a hill. Found the public beach with hot tub. Going to go brave that one of these days. Set the self-timer and took some pictures of me on a pier column out in the water. Decided to do hand stands on it, despite not being able to do handstands. After about 10 tries, got my feet vertical, and they continued swinging over me. Disoriented, I my foot luckily caught the edge of the column as I fell backwards. Continued on, finding a forest on a hill, topped by the Saga museum, Perlan. Very refreshing to be surrounded by trees. Saw a black rabbit. 'Twas a first. Went to the observation deck. View=not-too-shabby. Returned, most likely ate dinner... Went to Zimssen with Peter, Jaimie, and Kjartan. Drank cheap beer and played some boring Icelandic game similar to Sorry. For the record, I was clearly in the lead when they decided to quit. Talking outside about AIDS in Guatemala, we met a pleasant couple from Canada. Aaaand then we left. I am sure the rest of the evening was just peachy.

Oct. 9, 2009

Friday.... OK, I've got this one. A few volunteers arrived for the festival. Shaved most of my beard, as I was beginning to tire of having uninvited leftovers hanging from my face. Emmm. Got some beer with Michelle. Very high wind and rain today. Kjartan's father came to fix the heating pipe for the garage. Gutter drain next to the back door clogged, house almost flooded. Drank said beer. Went out with everyone. Had good time. Walked home with Isidora and Kjartan. Went back out. Danced. Spoke in Spanish. Kicked-in bathroom door. Lost everone but Matevz, Michelle, Taru, and Alek. Stumbled home, stopping to talk to some people on a bench. They didn't know how to get home. I didn't have an answer. Got home "early" around 5 a.m.

Oct. 8, 2009

Thursday! This is what you get when I wait too long to post.

Oct. 7, 2009

Ummmm. Yep.

Oct. 6, 2009

Wake up headache-free; always a plus. In the mood to do something constructive today, so decided to try to fix the hot-water line to the garage. Head downtown to a hardware store, but no plumbing equipment. Referred to a Home-Depot-like store about a 5 minute ride down the road. Walk around the store, humoring myself that if I stare at the aisle signs long enough, they will morph into English. Ask an employee, and spend a half hour finding the right fittings/piping for this little project. Confident I have a workable assortment of gadgets, I pay and head back to the house. Something's a bit off here... Yes. Measured the diameter of the wrong pipe. Head back to the store. They don't have the same parts in for the smaller pipe gauge. Spend a half hour collecting a new assortment of fittings and tube that should work. Head back to the house, immerse my hands once again in the freezing-cold mud around the broken pipe. One end fits tight, put the other end on. Hot water it delivers, but the rusted pipe end leaks a bit too much to ignore. Fiddle around with it for a while longer, hands now being scalded in the hot water mud around the broken pipe. No progress made, so I cut my losses and head in for dinner. Not a bad try methinks armed with only a pocket knife, teflon tape, and a dish towel. Kjartan's father knows plumbing and can hopefully make his way over and come up with a slightly-less-shitty fix. Draw and relax with Isidora for the rest of the night.

Oct. 5, 2009

Sunny early morning relaxed with no road trips on the agenda. Felt a bit sedentary, so hopped on my bike and went for a ride. T-shirt weather it was not, but it kept me riding to avoid hypothermia. Spotted a couple abandoned shacks down by the water just in case I should need them in the future. Back wheel began to go a bit wonky, so headed back and warmed up. Cleaned out the car, returned it to the lady, and then went for a stroll around town with Isidora. Tried to climb the large church, but the stairs were off-limits, and the elevator cost money. And I was just about to accept Jesus Godsson into my life. Oh well. Found something much more practical outside in a crescent wrench that will fix my wonky wheel. We went to a few shops and passed by the anarchists' free shop before heading back. In the market for something to read, preferably a math book to keep me busy on rainy days. Jamie and Peter going to London and then Amsterdam tomorrow morning, so that proved enough of a reason to purchase some alcohol for the night. Rode to a few used book stores; both surprisingly containing mostly books in Icelandic. Best I could come up with was a mathematical terms dictionary that cost like 700 kr. Dejected, picked a few bottles of hooch, then remembered the free shop, so decided to check it out. A dank open air squatter's shack with plenty of graffiti, and some clothes strewn about. Few books on the bookshelf, including a 400 page calculus book in English with a spray paint how-to pamphlet on top. What a great country. Place both in my bag, and head back, scolding myself for ever believing that structured society could provide me with my educational material. Sit around, eat some spaghetti and sauce with lamb liver that Jamie made(although he thought it was lamb meat upon purchase.) Waited around some more. Started drinking, playing Texas hold-'em and king's cup with Jamie, Peter, Isadora, Kjartan, and Kobi. The latter being the only game that Jamie, Peter, and I introduced to the non-Yanks that received a positive response(beer pong failed failed miserably in crossing the cultural gap.) We were planning on staying up until Jamie and Peter left for the airport at 4:30 am, but, that just wasn't going to happen with now empty Vodka and Rum bottles rolling across the floor. Aaand scene.

Oct. 4, 2009

What a surprise, awake early with sparse sleep preparing for a road trip. Today's lineup:Isidora, Jamie, Peter, Kjartan, and myself. Headed south to see some waterfalls and the gigantic glacier, Vatnajökull, if we have time. Thought I lost the keys to the car, and after dumping all my stuff out and cursing to myself for a good half hour, turns out they were in Isadora's purse. Welp, rousing poor Kjartan after only getting about ten minutes to sleep, we piled in the car and headed off. Accidentally went north on route 1 for a bit, then got the sun on the correct side of the car and continued on. Snowed a bit on the way, but the sun was out and sparkled beautifully off of the landscape; pleasing, but rather blinding as I drove down the road. First stop was a narrow waterfall in free fall off of a large cliff face. Look in my bag and realize I forgot my camera. I can see it spilling onto my bed an hour earlier as I was dumping my bag out in search of the friggin' keys. Looks like memory will have to pick up the slack on this one, a task I'm just not sure its up to these days. Walking up to the falls, everything is coated in ice from the mist. The slim grass blades are encapsulated in inch-thick translucent tendrils. A small trail leading behind the falls, like everything else, is zero friction, so it makes for a fun crawl up and around as the mist completely soaks me. Looking back out from behind the falls, standing within the cavernous rock erosion, I thought this would make quite a nice picture, you stupid forgetful freakin' idiot crapface! Jerk! Oh well, I'll forgive myself...someday... Managed to slip and stumble my way back to the car, as Jamie and Peter gracefully skated behind me, laughing nonsensically all the way. Back in the car and onward, made it to another waterfall, Skógafoss. This one was off of a much larger river, wider and taller, and also a free-fall. A long, steep metal staircase let to the top, and Peter and I decided it rational to race to the top. Well, we made it about 5% of the way up before he was coughing in fits and I was keeled over the railing. Sucked wind the rest of the walk up. A long way down. Ice-capped cliff edge. No photos standing on the edge, as that would pretty much ensure a long, contemplative journey ending with a splat or a bounce; not sure how that works off of jagged icy rocks. Oh, but a moot point, camera-less buffoon. Watched for a while as gull-like birds jumped from the cliff face and rode the updraft from the falls, only using energy to subtly flick their wings and turn. An icicle broke off of a overhang on the top and I watched as it fell and fell for what seemed like 5 seconds, never actually seeing it hit the ground. The rock at the bottom of the river atop the falls was a smooth and high-luster black. Cool shit, basically. Back down and back on the road. Attempting to make it to the black sand beach right next to the road, took quite a while before we found a road that wasn't fenced-off. A bit of snowfall on the way. But was for the best in the end, as we ended up at a black sand beach enclosed by porous volcanic cliffs and rock arches and spires out in the middle of the water. So...picturesque. Fuck! The foaming waves were calling me, and I couldn't help but strip down, sprint, and jump in. Aand, colder than I imagined. Run away! Towel. In. Car. So. Far. Away. Dry off and sit in car as we wait for Jamie and Peter to return from laughing at whatever nonsensical object they have come across. My body finally realizes its cold and I start to shiver in a vain attempt to add to what little body heat remains. Hunger and fatigue beginning to get the best of us, as we head over a mountain pass containing the glacier Mýrdallsjökull to the small town of Vík, in search of some sustenance. Find a small restaurant at a gas station and order some overpriced food that took entirely too long to come out. A ham sandwich isn't rocket science. Not sure if rocket science works as an analogy for protracted periods of time, but it seriously was at least a half hour wait. Ate, still felt hungry. Kjarten and I acquired some fries from plates left on adjacent tables, and we headed out. Not so hungry, but still tired, and so we decided to call it a day and head back. Vatnajökull will have to wait for another day. Driving on the way back, everyone else is asleep. Now, to set the record straight, I have been speeding a lot while driving on route 1. There is nobody on the road, and the national speed limit of 90 km/hr is just too slow. But, I was doing exactly 90 with a car in front of me as another car comes racing from behind, passing us both right as we pass what looked like a cop car on the side of the road. I look behind me and there goes the siren and lights. That's what you get, sucker. Oh...its me you're pulling over, of course. "Did I do anything wrong?" "No?" But you're giving me a breathalizer for shits and giggles. First exam I got an A in in quite a while. Ok, one more challenge...start the car without stalling with the cops waiting in their car. I've been operating in the 5% range so far. But success! I come through in the clutch. Pun intended, bitches. Go to hell cops. Kjarten informs me they weren't even cops, but private security. Rather shady. Continue on to Reykjavik, taking a bit of a detour to pull along side and follow a car full of girls that Jamie and Peter thought were cute. Stalled like crazy at every stoplight in town, haha. Made it back to the house in one piece yet again. Kobi shared some great seafood pasta dish he made with us, so that took care of dinner. Zoned out for the rest of the night, eventually made it upstairs to bed.

Oct. 3, 2009

Woke up early for some stupid reason. Did some cleaning, paced around the house mindlessly. Feeling a pinch of sickness, as to be expected after being in the car with Jaimie and Peters' constant coughing. Bought some rum and wine, ate a nice pasta dinner, and began the night by playing quarters with kronas. Moved on to poker as Kobi joined us. Ran out of drinks at the house, and so headed to the streets. First bar we tried to get into did not admit our disheveled posse, and so we moved onto the English pub. There was a wheel behind the bar there that you could pay something like 1000 kr. to spin, with the possibility to win various amounts of beer. Peter tried 3 or 4 times, gave up or ran out of money. Gave it a shot, won 8 beers. Sweet, and I'm never playing that again. Passed them out among our table, drank, had fun, then headed back as the others continued on into the night.

Oct. 2, 2009

Woke up plenty early to avoid the work staff at the hostel. Headed out to the car to a snow covered ground, and more continuing to fall. Following the obligatory snowball session, made our way back onto route 1, headed farther north to Húsavík, which is reported to have great whale watching. A car-full of hungover people at 7:30 am is quite the quiet venue. Heading over a mountain pass, found it odd that the road was the only thing snow-covered. The rest of the scenery had not yet been blanketed. That quickly changed though, as we came down the other side and everything was white. Doing about 70 km/hr down a country road, the back seat was asleep, Isidora driving, and me spacing-out in the passenger seat. I suddenly notice that our car was traveling down the road at an odd angle. Welp, this should be fun. With zero traction, the car stayed on the road for a bit, then made its way onto the grass of the periphery as the back end kicked out. Still sliding, slowly, thinking it'll be kinda hard to push this back onto the road in the snow. My worries were quickly relieved as the car fell and came to a halt rear-end first into a large drainage ditch that was not really visible from our current sliding angle perpendicular to the road. With the sleepy back seat now awake and confused, we climbed out and back onto the road. Pointing to the sky at a 45 degree angle, it looked even more hopeless from the outside. But, within 5 minutes a guy pulls up and offers a cell phone to call the police. Apparently, his job is to drive around and help stranded souls like us, and he was just on his way to work as he passed us. Sit in his car and talk to the police, as I tell them the situation. They reply with, "We'll see what we can do." More waiting with our friend the road monitor man, as we try to find a topic in English that he understands. Fishing and the wonders of the 2003 Jeep Cherokee that he was driving were about all we could put together. He hands Peter some binoculars, as he sees a tractor heading up the driveway from an adjacent farm. Tractor makes its way over to us, and a guy in a jump suit, and dirt-stained hands gets out, and talks to the other guy in the car. Takes a look at our car, attaches a strap to it and then to the tractor, and pulls our little white compact out of the ditch like a toy. Assessing the damage, all we could find was a very small dent in the rear bumper, a loose exhaust pipe, and plenty of mud and grass. A bit bewildered by our car being completely fine, I offer both people some money for their help, to which they both vehemently refuse. The farmer heads back to his house, and road maintenance man continues on his way. Reflecting on the situation, this was pretty much the best place to go off the road. Everywhere else in the area had lakes or jagged rocks or mountain cliffs right off of the road. We managed to find a soft irrigation ditch on level road. With road conditions still worsening, we decide that we've used up our luck for the day, and head back towards Reykjavik. In good spirits from getting pulled out of a ditch within an hour of falling in, in the early morning on a back road, we made it back over the mountain pass and into Akuryeri for some coffee and breakfast. I took the wheel from there as the lack of sleep caught up with everyone again, and I figured my 4 cups of coffee would fill that hole for me. In about ten minutes, everyone else was asleep, and I was doing 40 km/hr in whiteout conditions; only being able to see the yellow reflectors marking the edges of the road. Straining my eyes to make out images in zero contrast amidst large mesmerizing snowflakes sweeping against the windshield, the caffeine in my body did not do much. And with no place to pull off because these roads have no shoulder, I kept slapping my face to maintain clear eyesight and consciousness. Made it out of the snow and back up to normal driving speed. Stopping for gas in Blönduós, we gave Peter a shot at driving. He got into first gear a hell of a lot better than me, but it fell apart from there. Stalling and not being in gear with a tractor trailer behind us, we rolled to the side of the road. Peter gives up and Isidora gets behind the wheel. Of course that's a cop with its lights on pulling up to us. A bunch of foreigners stalling in a car that we are borrowing from someone. The cop only asks for Peter's diver's license, looks at it, says, "Massachusetts", and hands it back. Peter explains that we were letting him drive to learn. The cop says, "So you let a woman take over instead?". Then says we look like a bunch of drug dealers. Peter, in a moment of pure genius decides to take out his camera and show the cop pictures of our car in the ditch from several hours earlier. I can only sit there in silence thinking, "Why, you idiot, why?" Well, cop tells us to continue on our way, follows us for a bit on the road, and then pulls off. Very weird, but whatever. Drive for the rest of the day, get back to Reykjavik around 8 or 9. We are beat. Everyone else in the house is drinking and about to go out, being that its Friday. After getting shit from the others for not joining in the fun, our troupe scattered off to various quiet places. Watched part of a movie and passed out.

October 1, 2009

Slept rather well, was woken up at 7:30. Ate some breakfast, and hit the road. Headed out around the Snæfells peninsula; the western most part of Iceland. The Snæfellsjökull glacier marks the tip, sitting atop its mountain at around 1440 m. Was the setting for the entrance point in Journey to the Center of the Earth. Drove up to a road going up the mountain, and were greeted by a snow-covered road and a sign that read:impassable. Ah well, so much for that. From there, stopped and ate breakfast in Olafsvík. A small town, bounded by mountains and the ocean. Climbed a waterfall on the edge of town. Almost slipped and fell off taking photos off the edge...but I didn't. Nice try, nature. Picked up some liquid provisions and headed north towards Akuryeri, the second-largest town in Iceland. I took a bit of a wrong turn, and headed up the wrong side of a fjörd, almost running us off the road as i was driving and looking at the map. Got back on the right track though, and eventually made it to Akuryeri. Looked around for a while for a place to stay the night. Hotel far too expensive. After an hour or so of searching, found a hostel. Oh, reception is closed? But your self-locking door, failed to do its job. Found a shower and towels in the hallway. Washed up. Drank our drinkin' drinks in the common area upon very comfortable red leather couches. Amazing. Drunkenly made it to a bar. Water guns and shots of fire and people buying us shots and all around merriment. Got split up, Jamie and Peter went joyriding with some locals, the rest of us found our way back. Talked in the kitchen with some French guy who was actually supposed to be there and ate some peanut butter sandwiches. Come to think of it, not sure how we got back in the second time. The door definitely locks after you close it. Ah well. Slept comfortably.

Sept. 30, 2009

Woke up early, hungover and with about 4 hours of sleep. Got some cleaning done and packed for the trip. Renting a car from some lady in town. No signed papers, just trusting us to return with the car. Got a rather late start, as everyone else is dragging today, too. But, after figuring out how to get the car to go in reverse, we headed out. Drove through the Golden Circle, a popular scenic area. Climbed this small volcanic hill, took in some great views of the undulating mountains, and the road twisting through them. Then drove to the town of Geysir, which geysers are named after. The geysers there erupted about once every 5 minutes. The light was very dim by the time we got there, but they still looked amazing as the bubbling water would suddenly explode, shooting a steam jet 50 feet into the air. Isidora and Johanna had a couch to sleep on in a small college outside of Borganes, so we headed there in the darkness. I relieved Isidora from driving for a while, learning to drive stick as we went. Did pretty well, but have trouble getting into first from a stop. Leaving the main road around Iceland, route one, we encountered quite a few stretches of unpaved road which, at points, had me thinking the tires were going to fall off. Stopped off in the middle of nowhere so that all of us could stretch. Got back in and...car doesn't start. Hm. Peter, Jamie, and I began to push the car, not that we'd get anywhere, but, eh, why not. After about 10 yards, the wheel apparently locked up, and we could only watch and laugh as the car containing Isidora and Johanna slowly rolled off of the road and into a ditch. Was pretty sure it was stuck there, but somehow the 5 of us managed to push it out and back onto the road. Waited a while. Checked under the hood. Everything fine, besides the stupid battery. Wait some more. Finally stood in the road as a car came from the opposite direction. The were some jumper cables in the back of our car, and after a turn of our key, the car started, and off we went. Arrived in the small college in Bifröst around 11:30. A stray dog and cat kept following us around everywhere we went. It was weird. Apparently the dog had swine flu. Ate some dinner in the place that the girls were staying. Handed Jamie and Peter my tent. I slept in the car.

Sept. 29, 2009

Hmmm, writing this post a few days too late. Don't really know what I did. Let's see if I can make up something interesting. After defeating the horrible dragon, the townspeople felt it necessary to throw a parade in my honor. Hm, this sucks. Its been relatively decent weather. Getting to know the lay of the land here at the house. Everyone around here are cool cats. OK, that's today. Ah yes, remembering now. One of the housemates, who is a chef-in-training made a really good Thai pasta dish and some mushroom soup for dinner. Went out with a bunch of people to a bar for Karaoke night. Drank my fill, and sang a few songs with the other brave souls. Several people were shocked by how bad my voice was, despite me warning them; always a victory. Was a hell of a fun time though. Planning a trip up north for the next few days with Isidora, Jamie, Peter, and Johanna.

Sept. 27-28

Hm, things are so much less exciting when you are paying for a room. On the 27th, woke up, chatted with some people at the hostel over breakfast, did some reading, and asked the woman at the front desk where I could acquire some propane. She went in back, returned with a full cannister that someone had left. Free? Fantastic. Headed to the library. Only the university library open on Sunday. Went there, tried to pay for a couple hours of internet, their system was messed up, but they referred me to a couple of computers that have free access for 15 minutes at a time. So spent a while writing emails, looking for possible places to stay or work, and waiting for the computer to automatically restart every 15. Rode around town, resupplied, ate dinner, and fell asleep really early.
Woke up next morning, showered, packed up my stuff, headed to the library for more clerical duties. Got an email back from the people I contacted about volunteering at a music festival called Iceland Airwaves. Said that all spots were full, but they'd see what they could do. A beautiful cloudless, windless day, so I made sure to roam around aimlessly for a while. Gave the music festival people a call, and scheduled an interview downtown. Through an organization called Worldwide Friends, and they organize work camps all around; Iceland Airwaves was just one of the events they participated in. Met with the organizers, Toti and Iris, and after knowing my age, name, and experience with Habitat for Humanity, told me I had a spot and that I could grab a bed upstairs. This seems too easy... Cult? Nah, they just recognize great talent when they see it. Met some people in the house that had just finished up working for the film festival, and were leaving in a day or so. People from Scottland, Serbia, Greece, Germany, Boston, and so on. All had a positive experience in volunteering. I find out my job is as one of the 4 volunteer leaders for the festival, with 33 total. This means free stay at the house. Well, some cleaning duties until the festival begins, but this great. Hang out at the house, which is right downtown, go and purchase myself a celebratory sketchbook and some pens. Go out to eat with a group of the people here. Have seafood on a skewer. We ordered cod, monkfish, scallop, and Mink whale. Whelp, the first three were delicious. Go on to the whale, and it tastes like steak from a cow thats been swimming around in the ocean, seasoned with a pinch of guilt. Its not endangered or anything, but whaling is such a taboo act that I can't help but feel like I am doing something inherently evil. It was pretty good, though.

Sept. 26, 2009

Wake up very well rested. Lay in bed a while longer just for the hell of it. Breakfast of cheese and crackers topped off with a little hazelnut spread. Have plenty of time before I need to be out, so I take another quick shower, revel in the warmth a while longer, pack up, and head out into the wind. Going to try to make it back to Reykjavik so I can use the internets...hopefully by getting someone to drive me through the tunnel. Stop by a few stores in search of a power adapter with no luck. Stop by a bakery and have some baked goods that provided far more sugar that I needed. Also had a coffee...I don't know why. Bakery girls give me an English magazine while I sip on my cafe au lait und hazelnoot. It almost seems proper. This behavior must end. Bid farewell to the bakery girls and head to the highway to stretch out my hitchin' thumb. This will be a difficult task with a bike. Hail storm greets me. Really freakin stings when a good-sized pellet catches the top of your ear, but I keep my hood down to look more presentable. You'll take my bike? Oh, but you are headed to Bourganes. Going to Reykjavik? No bike. Bourganes. I sense a trend. Two hail storms and a third one on the way, I decide to head back into town to regroup. I could really go for some coffe and some baked goods. Riding into ridiculous wind, I hobble back to the bakery, get my stupid coffee and a delicious roll with butter. One of the bakery girls inquires as to my origin. You spent a year in the states? Cool. In Pennsylvania? No shit, I'm from there. You were an exchange student at Nazareth High School? What the fuck. Small world. Small dreary town in Iceland. The one person I talk to there lived in the small dreary town next to me. Free coffee refill? Sigh, sure. Finish my lunch, and though I´d love to chit-chat, its time to work the highway again. I'm a loner, Icelandic bakery girl. A rebel. Finally, a worker in a flatbed truck pulls over. Not going all the way to Reykjavik, but at least through the tunnel? "Ya.". Take the ride, stop right before the tunnel. Damnit! Miscommunication, you's a bitch. He takes a left up some other road and I am left far from town and just as far from Reykjavik, for all intensive purposes. Thankfully, about 15 minutes later, a Jeep stops. Throw my bike in, and yes, he is going to Reykjavik. In between business calls, I learn that he owns a digital printing company. We talk politics, economy, and U.S. cities. A woman keeps calling the carphone seemingly displeased, and his responses are OK. Yep. OK. OK. Turns out, its his wife. Not too happy he's picked up a hitch hiker. He laughs it off, though. Drops me off at McDonald's in town, and I ride a short ways to the hostel. I offer to work in exchange for a room. Apologetically rejected. Get a room for 2 nights anyway, as I've some business to do here. Girl cuts me a deal, and I pay 2100 kr per night instead of 2600. Ride around searching for a power adapter. The place everyone refers me to is closed. Able to charge my ipod in the back of a computer at the hostel at least. Eat cheese and cracker dinner. Read up on the goings on downtown tonight. Decide to catch a film at the film festival, "Daytime Drinking", and then some bands at a bar. Film was pretty funny. Takes me far too long to find the bar, considering I parked my bike right next to it unknowingly and then searched around for the next half hour. Have a beer by my lonesome, then eventually make friends with a French girl doing the same. One band had one of those electromagnetic field creepy sound instruments. Pretty cool. The last band had Bjork's son as the bassist. They were decent, but did no compare to the band featuring the drummer in a gorilla suit. One of the French girl´s(Laure) friends joined us(Rodrigo from Sao Paolo). We were all travelling alone. Talked about politics, demographics, Brasilian, French, American cities. Exchanged info, and rode my bike in calm weather back to the hostel.

Sept. 25, 2009

Great day. Wake up after an hour or so of sleep to a golden sunrise over the mountains. Fuckin storm finally broke and I was able to pack my pack proper outside of the tent. Still weary and hungry, but screw it. This is travelling weather, so I need to take advantage of it while it lasts. Slow going up and down large hills. My legs don't have much push and my hands are cold, but just warm enough to not wear gloves. Can see sun-lit land toward the mouth of the fjörd, but being in the mountain shadow, still a ways from me. Finally cross a bridge and the road begins to head in the direction of Akranes. I see steam rising from the top of the next hill. Fuck yea! A broken geothermal pipe. Sweet, sweet heat. My hands burn in ecstasy. Fill my bowl with water from my bladder, and cook some Rice Sides in the steaming sulfur water. While I wait, I notice a rusted warehouse with a missing door. I read earlier that there is an abandoned U.S. army base from WWII around here. Look down the road and see a bunch of old barracks. How bout that. Venture into the warehouse while my meal cooks. It is heaven encapsulated in corrugated steel. Old rusted car parts, old rusted fishing equipment, old rusted monsterous oil equipment. I stand and stare, eyes sparkling. I run back to retrieve my bike and meal, and then sneak back in, being careful not to be seen by the few passing cars that might try to steal me from my new found treasure. After wolfing down my crappy Rice Sides, I spend the next hour or so exploring and examining the artifacts strewn about. Ford and GM crank shafts, gears, doors, tires from the '40's. Huge pipe wrenches and oil pipe heads coming from the ground. A huge cast-iron oil pump made in Wisconsin. And commercial fishing hooks and line. I cut off some hooks and line for myself. A random drawer containing books in Icelandic from the '50's. I sure am tired though. And a storm rolls in. Take some plywood, styrofoam, and an old leather car bench seat and make myself the most comfortable spot to lay upon since I got here. With the walls creaking and rattling from the storm, I pass out smiling. "OY!", is what I wake up to as I rip my head out of the mummy bag and see a guy in a full rubber suit staring at me from the doorway. Long story short, I explain my being here. He is happy that I am not the drunken, passed-out whaler he expected. He is headed to Akranes in 2 hours? He´ll give me and my bike a ride? What a magical warehouse. What an understanding oilworker. While I wait for him to get off work and return, I realize that I really have to shit. The old rusty oil drums in the back of the warehouse are just oo good to pass up. I stack a couple of tires at the base of one, undo the lid, and voila: a proper toilet. Put the lid back on, attatch the ringlock, and´I've left my mark for some poor curious soul to discover in a couple hundred years, or whenever they decide to tear that place down. Oil man returns as promised. Throw my bike and pack in the truck bed, help him load some boards, and off to Akranes. Nice guy. Chat a bit on the way. Drops me off at a pizza shop. I eat a pizza. Then wander around town in failing light and worsening weather. A small town. Nothing going on. Search for a place to stay. No hotels? Shit. Worse weather. Rumors of a guest house across town. Accidentally go to wrong end of town. Wind make bike riding very difficult. Finally find this place next to violent waves crashing on the adjacent rocks. Lower my head and walk to the gate. Locked. Hmm, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to set up tent in this weather. Here comes the rain. Fuck it, walk around to the back door. An old guy in his kitched spots me and meets me at the door. This is a gues house but...nobody here tonight. I get a whole floor with shower, kitchen and toilet for 5.000 kr. Its no crippled tent, but I guess this will have to do. The place is heated...interesting. The shower, hot....peculiar. The bed, soft and complete with pillow and comforter. I don´t trust it. I know its just waiting for me to lie down so it can devour me and my water-logged clothes. Oh well, half hour later I am drying off my hair witha towel and walking around shirtless in my mesh shorts. Dinner of cheese and crackers purchased in town, plus some hazelnut spread that was in one of the shelves. Sometimes things just work out.

Sept. 24, 2009

I guess this makes this a Thursday. Ok, it is late at night and I am beginning to think that this may not be the best tent site for a high-wind rain storm. Although a beautiful spot overlooking the fjörd below, I am now just wainting in the dark for one of the stakes to be uprooted and my rain fly to blow into the abyss, or my tent poles to snap. The amount of deflection in the walls is impressive to say the least. With nothing to do but wait, I´ve been coming up with a video game called "Humans With Jetpacks:the Game". More to be explained later. Well, its been a good day, all in all. Nice travelling weather. Left Esja, headed to Akranes to resupply of food and finally pick up some propane. Unfortunately the tunnel(holy shit, I thought that was it for the tent. heart racing, haha.) to Akranes which would have been about a 10 km ride is not open to bikes. Alternate route? 70 km around the fjörd. Great. Nothing against the scenic route, but I am rather low on food. 1 "meal" left. Scattered houses along the way. Very little traffic. The one store I ride 5 km out of the way to stop at only open on weekends. Argh. I saw a salmon jumping up a river which was cool. Stopped at two places that advertised shelter/food. Both ghost towns. Rode to my current position, tired and a bit hungry. Finished up the last of the müsli. 1 packet of Rice Sides left. No rainbows today. Suspicious... About 35 km to Akranes!
Well, made it through the night after the tent collapsed on me 3 times. Had to get out and repair the damage, each time returning to the bag soaked. One pole bent pretty well, but should still work. Spent a good portion of the night holding up the windward wall with my left hand while stretching to hold the bottom down with my heels. Almost no sleep needless to say. Stayed surprisingly warm though.

Sept. 23, 2009

Still at Esja. Raining and lazy, don´t know what time it is, but pretty sure I slept through most of the day. Nothing wrong with staying another night. Rain finally stops. Convince myself to get up. Thirsty, so I walk down to the stream, rinse my bowl, and then have my fill. Top off my water bladder and hope I don't get sick. Hop across the highway to the ocean, walk around the muck, keeping an eye out for mussels/clams. Find one of each, neither too sizeable, head back to the rocks before the incoming tide traps me. A true feast for dinner: 1 mussel, 1 clam(both raw), one packet of Rice Sides(cheddar+broccoli), all mixed together in ice-cold mountain water. Let it sit for an hour to soften the rice, then....cruch, cruch, slurp. Its not too often that I disgust myself, but here I am. Can't wait precious calories though. It will be a miracle if my insides don't explode.

Sept. 22, 2009

Bit of a chilly night, but woke up to a blue-tinted tent. Blue sky? Sweet. Get out of tent and there are still plenty of clouds, but the clear patches in between are a welcome sign. 10 am start. Plenty to do: get bike, find a route to Mt. Esja, hopefully climb it. First, grab a change of clothes and shower in the hostel. Dry off with paper towels. Sorry environment, I smelled like ass and didn´t have a towel. Headed to bike shop and look at that: the old girl is still there. In the end, not much haggling. Paid 15.000 for the bike and two tubes. Plus, got a free cup of coffee. I have wheels! And, it doesn´t ride too badly. Back at the tent, pack everything up and hit the road around 2 pm I think. Route 1 will get me to Esja, but it is very far from bike-friendly coming out of Reykjavik. With one of the free maps I picked up, I am able to meander along sidestreets generally parallel to route 1. Take one spill on the bike as I was coming up a gravel hill and it refused to downshift. My huge pack took the initiative and pulled me sideways off the bike. No worse for the wear. Beautiful streams and rivulets leading into the tidal flats along the way. I really want a fishing pole. Finally reaching the trailhead as Esja, its a bit late in the day. I am getting tired, so I set up camp near the base. The ground is very soft; encouraging for the night's sleep. With decidedly enough daylight, I head up the trail. A light rain rolls in with the sunshine and an amazing rainbow bridges the main stream going down the mountain. It almost doesn´t seem real. Legs aching, I continue up, and the Atlantic emerges over one of the hills. The sun behind clouds, its reflection still draws from horizon to shore. That way is home. Near the top, I lose the trail amongst the crags. A little unnerving, as I am forced to do a bit of rock climbing. I find the trail again, but am not sure which direction leads up. A kind bald man tells me to follow him. He flies up the mountain, taking huge vertical steps, and I can barely keep up. Luckily, its a relatively short sprint to the top. At 708 m, I have a view of all of Reykjavik, some distant ranges, and the sparkling Atlantic. I learned that the bald man once climbed this 7 times in one day to benefit cancer. Wasting little time, he bolted back down, leaving me to catch my breath and snap some pics. After a quick snack, the cold air and wind got to me, so I headed back to camp. After a müsli breakfast, I was on cheese and toasted bread withdrawl, so I ate the rest for dinner. Oh, and this ground is like sleeping on a slightly softer Tempur-Pedic mattress. And its warm. Lights out.

Sept. 21, 2009

Waking up to a cloudy morning, I keep convincing myself that it is earlier than it probably is. A night of crappy dreams has me in a sour mood. Rain is falling on the tent. The fight to get out of my bag seems futile against such odds. Then I remind myself that I'm in Iceland. Cheese and toasted bread for breakfast. Pack up the tent. The rain has stopped, and a rainbow again marks the start of the day. I have a 2L bottle of carbonated water that has no chance of fitting in my pack, yet I do not want to waste it. So I chug it before I head downtown. Running to a gas station every 10 minutes to piss, I make pretty good time. The tourist info center doesn't provide much help about how to find a used bicycle, but I am at least able to pick up some maps. Down to the library to use the internet. Get some things accomplished. Learn of a possible purveyor of used bikes. Stop outside the Leif Eriksson statue for a cheese and toasted bread lunch. Head to the Bonus supermarket("cheapest" prices in town). It takes forever to find. I come across a bike shop. "Any used bikes?" The guy laughs, walks in back, returns with an old Mongoose steel frame junker. Apparently someone just left it there about a year ago. Asking 15.000 kr!? That may be a deal here, I just don't know, but for something I´d expect to pay about 20 bucks for, I delay the purchase until tomorrow. I'll see if I can talk them down to 10.000. The suckers won't know what hit 'em. I finally find the damned Bonus store. I pick up a carton of something and ask the lady next to me if its milk. She laughs and points me to the real McCoy. I replace the treacherous imposter and also pick up some Müsli and a can of beans. Returning to the hostel, I do not feel like paying 1000 kr. just to set up camp on another patch of grass. I offer to do some work around the place in exchange for the use of patch of grass. They laugh, push the request up the chain of command and ultimately say no. 1000 kr. it is. Bastards... The Reykjavik International Film Festival is currently going on, and i see that Stingray Sam is playing tonight at 8:40. I missed seeing that in Bethlehem, so I figured I'd walk downtown and catch it. I set up camp, lay down sleeping bag, open my eyes, and the next thing I know it´s 9:20. Sorry Mr. McCabee, no offense, I think... Tomorrow, buy that bike and hopefully ride out to Mt. Esja.

Sept. 20, 2009

Hopping aboard the flight, sat next to a nice couple from Oslo. Long 5 hour flight, but had free entertainment. Watched Sigur Ros´ Heima, then slept on and off for the rest of the flight. No problems with customs arriving in Keflavik before dawn. 50 km to Reykjavik. Begin walking in the rain as light emerges. A large man in a shuttle bus stops and asks if I need a ride. I say no money. He says the shuttle is free to Reykjavik and looks at me like the idiot I am. Tells me everyone swims in Iceland. A lot. Great... Chilly day heightened by flickering rain. Walking the shoreline, a rainbow spans the harbor. After a few hours´ walk in the Park, I am pretty sleep-deprived, sore, hungry, wet, and chilly. I head to a hostel recommended by the shuttle bus driver, and pay 1000 kr. to camp outside for the night. I quickly fall asleep, and the next thing, it is dark out. Leaving my pack in the tent, I walk downtown. I navigate by street signs that i cannot pronounce/remember for more than 5 seconds. As it was during the day, the streets are empty. I seem to pass someone once every 5 minutes. Arriving on a Sunday gives me the impression that Reykjavik is a ghost town. Finally finding a store that is open, I purchase some cheese and toasted bread, and learn that it is 11:30 pm. I figure that's late enough and begin the hour-or-so walk back to the tent. Chowing down on the items, I lay down in my bag and am at ease. Hungry food is the best food. Most things are damp from the day, but i am plenty warm. I think this far too often, but thank the Badlands deity for synthetic fiber.