Þjóðhátíð: Part I, cont'd

Þjóðhátíð: Part I, cont'd

[Next day, the story cont'd...]

Last night, while we were introducing ourselves, Magnus, the Kicker wrappt in a sheet, his take-away wrappt in a sheet, and me, all thumbs up that between us, everything was cool, we're all friends, really, they needed me saying I was friends, needed my no-problem attitude. I think they all thought I'd rat on them, they're having a party! and it's no guests! strictly forbidden! 

Meanwhile, the man disappeared, to everyone's amazement. I actually went out to the street to find the naked man... 

(I'd told the guesthouse owner, I understand the no-guest rule, but I will not contact you if there are any or if there is any partying; these teenagers wouldn't've known that, and I'm their parents' age.) 

As it turns out, the guy actually had a room here, and had just walkt out of his room, lay naked on the front door mat spread eagle, arm over his eyes, the other messing with his cock. All this in the time it took me to go from my room to the kitchen and back. 

The guy that kickt him in the chest to wake him up, well, both are Icelandic, but the naked man was incoherent. We never got anything useful out of him, and we'd considered throwing him out of the house. 

What he'd done was get up and walk back into his room and hide under his blanket. Even with the door open, we didn't see him.

Next morning, did we ever give him a run down again and again and again, just to be sure he was red and embarrasst. Not sure his behavior will change. But that's for the better. A better story. 

I'm really glad we didn't think to photograph any of this. No 20 year old needs that on the internet. It's kinda creepy to post that kinda stuff anyway, in my opinion. It's not funny anymore.

Þjóðhátíð: Part I

Þjóðhátíð: Part I

Just a very quick post before I turn in at 03:45. I pad down the hall to the kitchen to put my beer in the fridge, and when I walk back to my room, there's a completely naked man lying on the floor in the hall, arm over his eyes, hand over his cock, unsuccessfully trying to hide it. I hear voices in another room and I knock. I'm hoping they know who this is. They don't have any idea who he is, so one kicks the naked man in the chest to wake him up. Which works. And he leaves. Or rather, he disappeared. 

Magnus was outside on the lawn, smoking or rather, waiting until his roommate's take-away left. He saw me come into the house, but he didn't see the naked man come in. And no one saw the naked man leave. 

Þjóðhátíð: Eagle Air

Eagle Air to Vestmannaeyjar

I've come to the conclusion that a good number of small posts about my trip and weekend to Vestmannaeyjar is the best option for me.  And you.

Starting with the prop plane ride not 20 minutes long, from Reykjavík's domestic airport, I'm flying there, which is slightly more expensive than the three hour bus ride to the ferry landing and hour's ferry crossing.  Taking into consideration that time is money...

At check-in, I have my paper receipt, but she hardly looks at it and finds my name in the computer and prints off a small "electronic ticket", which is like a paper receipt from the grocery register, with my name misspelt, with seat assignment 4A.  I put my luggage on a scale and it's thrown on the dolly and I'm free to sit down in the small lobby with regular wooden chairs and wait for 15:45.  I'm there at the appointed 30 minutes before, but people are still walking in to get their boarding pass at 15:45.  Note, I made no mention of baggage inspection.  No confirmation that I indeed was Benjavin Doyle.  No looking into my carry-ons, or stopping to tell me two is too many. 

The couple on the other side of the room, they're opening a tall can of Viking beer to share.   

Finally a boarding call, just the word "Vestmannaeyjar" and we file out the door on the tarmac to our prop plane.  There is no under the seat storage, but there are seatbelts.  There's no stewardess in a fashionable scarf.  No one to explain how to use a seatbelt (don't you get tired of that explanation?), no one to explain how to use the oxygen mask should there be a loss of cabin pressure. 

The captain and his co-pilot are in the cockpit, only separated from us by a curtain, which remains open.  Fun to watch how to fly a plane.  LOTS of buttons, which I really believe they just press randomly and hope for the best.  The captain makes an announcement, only in íslensku.  Then a few minutes later, another announcement.  THIS time in íslensku.  Then we taxi to the runway.

There's no cabin-pressure explanation because we won't get cabin pressure.  We're simply not going to fly high enough except to make your ears pop a few times.  There's a couple in front drinking that same beer.  I had a left side window, so I could see the main island, but nothing lookt familiar, which was sad ("oh look, it's Ingólfshöfði!"), and suddenly the captain makes another announcement, again only in íslensku.  Which was refreshing for some reason.  And then begins the descent.  We can tell that already, because he's changing that lever back.  We've landed and we taxi to the terminal, a man rolls a trolley into, we grab whatever bag is in the pile....

If you're thinking, wow, the security is lax in Iceland or they're certainly naïve, take another point of view: Icelanders have near zero crime and it's one of the safest places on the planet, if not the most.  One reason for the zero crime is that everyone is related to someone who knows someone related to someone who's related to.... There's not much you can get away with here.

I got a hitch into town without even asking.  My stay at Gistiheimilið Hlíðarás on Faxastígur is going to be great.  I'm kindly greeted by Hrefna Ósk.  I ask about the pronunciation of everything, and they're impresst, so I am too.  (I really have been trying.)  I'm One of Seven here, and the only one not from Iceland. She makes it very clear: no guests and no partying. 

I need to be off now to the state-controlled alcohol store where prices are reasonable.  Otherwise, this trip will bankrupt me.  A pub beer is easily $10.  And the only point of this festival is to get wasted.

Þjóðhátíð 2014

Þjóðhátíð 2014

All the exciting and sordid details in small posts about Þjóðhátíð 2014 will follow.  Lonely Planet guide describes it, quote, It involves music, dancing, fireworks, a big bonfire, gallons of alcohol, and, as the night progresses, lots of drunken sex (it's something of a teen rite of passage), with upwards of 15,000 people attending...

This year, 20,000 people are expected, on a town with not even 4000.  Many locals flee.  I don't recognize the line-up, and not much fusst about it.

I'm extra excited about the bonfire.  Supposedly the largest in Scandinavia.  Do they ever love their bonfire.  And the next evening the fireworks.  And always lots of drunken sex.

I think I owe it to you, some kind of pronunciation.  THEO thou teeth is close enough.  Pronounce it slowly, it needn't be some quickly said word.  A lot of Icelanders can't say it either (so I'm told).

View of the the left side?

View of the the left side?

Do we need to see the tattoo I've just burned into my left side? Maybe after it's a bit healed and not red about the edges.  Or maybe right now with the red about the edges.  

Breath in breath out   dead calm.   

O by the Icelandic gods, I could use it.

This is Ólafía Kristjánsdóttir, the artist at Reyjavík Ink.

O by the Icelandic gods, I could.

Hitchhikers

Hitchhikers

There was never a hitchhiker that didn't get a ride from me while I was driving in Iceland.  I remember hitching all over Portugal, northern Spain on to Paris, my EuroRail pass forgotten (for the meantime) some 30 years ago, while I was backpacking all of Europe, and I remember that first brave go at it, outside Lisbon, Portugal, and getting pickt up in minutes, and however easy or however hard to get a ride, it was always a great way to travel.

I remember that feeling when the car or truck slowed down....I was going to pass that on, not pass on.

I must've pickt up say 20 or so, usually two, one time three, one time one.  You had to be out very early in the morning or late in the afternoon to get lucky.  (This sounds so Sweeney Todd.)  

At the drop off, I'd've forgotten their names already, but we were all best friends forever.   American, French, Swiss German, Swiss French, German, Dutch, Italian, Czech...  One Czech couple told me that they knew me, because I'd given two of their Czech friends a ride the day before.  And they knew the only three words in Czech* I admitted remembering!  (I studied it, with limited success, just school Czech.)  The Swiss women I pickt up, I insisted they tell me a story while I drove, like that was a part of the bargain.  One free ride = one story.  It was so interesting that I wish I'd played that off from the start.

Anyway, about the one time three.  I pickt up Lucas, from Berlin, parents German and Chilean.  Going to Skógar.  He had two other friends behind him with not as much success as he's having.  The three were meeting in Skógar to hike the Fimmvörðuháls trail north over the pass, into Þórsmörk and continuing on the Laugarvegur trail to Landmannalaugar, about four or five days.  I'm going into this detail, because this hike is the most popular and beautiful hike in Iceland.  I was planning on hiking the Fimmvörðuháls trail myself.  Actually, the next morning. 

I could give him a ride only as far as Seljavallalaug geothermal pool, and Skógar was not too far another hitch.  I needed to eat something, and then I was already planning to go to the outdoor pool.  He decided that he and his two friends would meet there instead, and enjoy the same hot swimming pool too.  I could give them all a ride further along to Skógar afterwards.

I meet Antton and Luigi there later, and after the swim, I drop them off at the Skógar camp, with the beautiful and famous seen-on-many-auto-commercials Skógarfoss waterfall.  They're planning on taking off while there's still light enough to hike, which is until about 23:00 or so.

You've read the Fimmvörðuháls post, so I'll skip to the part of it where we find the camping hut at the top of the pass.  There I meet up with Lucas, Antton and Luigi again!  Surprised, because they had such a head start on us.  Then not surprised when I saw how much gear they had on their backs.  And it was that rain and sleet hike too.  We parted ways again, caught up, and parted ways again, and then I lost them...

Years later I'm in Reykjavík. I'm back from all my geology treks along South Iceland, and I walk out of a kaffihús and there's Lucas, Antton and Luigi, back safe from their Laugavegurinn hike. Nice to see them again! Three times a charm.

  

Luigi, Benjamin, Antton, Lucas
?, American, Finn, German
(I think that's right.)

I never ran into any of my other friends-forever hitchhikers though, as I did with these three crazy guys.  

P.S.  Antton and I shared our online blogs, and he gave me a slip of paper with "souvvi" written on it, a collaborative blog he and friends have put together.  Lots of photographs, adventures, and reasons to still keep yourself as young as I try to, however old my passport claims.

-------

*My three Czech words:
Dobrýtro Morning
Až ti slůně sluníčko   When the baby elephant sun
šlapne ráno na vičko,   is stepping on your eyelids in the morning,
neplač,   don't cry,
vždyt’ to nebolí,   afterall, it doesn't hurt,
a běž honem do školy!   Hurry and go to school!

Fjögur píanó

Fjögur píanó

Twilight over Skeiðarárjökull, a glacier on Vatnajökull icecap of Iceland.  This is a video I took 31 July 2014, at 00:30.  Yes, in the morning.  I'm facing due north.  Fjögur píanó is playing on the car stereo and matcht the quietness fairly well.

Watching this at 12:30 AM may help lull you to sleep.  Not the intent, but not a drawback.  The slow up and down of the horizon, my steady breathing holding the camera...my anda inn anda frá...