Black stone beach and a black death bottle is all me and my baby´ll need
I may have started my trip too eagerly, as it is only 2PM of my first day and I am exhausted.
I also love this city.
Still, I have no illusions about it ever being appropriate for me to live here. While it is practically perfect in so many ways, it is so distinctly Icelandic that I would imagine it near difficult for a foreigner to ever feel at home here. It is homogenous in a way that I am unfamiliar. Not only is everyone here the same race (white), they are also of the same background and culture. While the town is brimming with tourists (Spanish, Italian, British, American, a few Chinese), I cannot help but feel like I am intruding in someone else´s home. I don´t mind it much, as I am only visiting, but I feel that attempting to assimilate here would be far more impossible than it is in a more heterogenous city. Furthermore, the architecture and style of the city seem mostly homogenous. No two houses are identical, and each home and garden has its own personality, I do not sense the presence of distinct neighborhoods as one would find in New York, L.A. or London. I don´t mind this, as the people nor architecture are not lacking in personality, but I find it surprising for a city of even this size.
As I noted previously, Sunday is a quiet day in Reykjavik. After I left the internet cafe this morning, I wandered down the main drag, noticing the high end shops and (recently closed) bars. The buildings are all made of stone, often covered with what appears to be gravel. Many of them are brightly colored. I don´t know why they are brightly colored, (red, blue, etc.) but somehow manage to avoid tackiness.
The weather is (to use one of my favorite expressions) "not entirely unlike" the weather in Costa Rica, but much colder. The sun will be shining, and within 5 minutes it will be raining. Not a cold, miserable rain, but a brisk, fresh rain that soon stops. Thus, the streets are always wet, and the air is always clean feeling, but I do not sense any of the dirty dampness characteristic of London.
I walked through a beautiful old cemetery, covered in moss, each grave its own garden. Names such as Gudmonson, Bjornsdottir and Magnusson are carved into medium sized stones. Most of these dead seemed to have been born between 1830 and 1930, and many lived well past the age of 80 or 90. It was in this cemetery that I got got in one of the more ferocious rain bursts. I attempted to write a postcard, but the rain made doing so impossible.
I walked around a beautiful pond, where locals and tourists fed ducks. I walked again to a huge church in the middle of town and managed to catch the Lord´s Prayer in Icelandic.
Feeling ambitious, I decided to walk the two miles south to a "geothermal beach" marked out in the Lonely Planet Reykjavik map. Two miles is much easier to SAY than to WALK. By the time I reached the beach (after having circumlocuted (is this the correct word? (No, it isn't; the correct word would have been "circumnavigated")) the domestic airport), I reached this beach, only to be very disappointed.
The "geo-" was clearly there. The beach was unpleasantly rocky. Rocky, and not particularly clean. The "thermal" part, however, was nowhere to be found. I put my hand in the water, only to find it freezing. Perhaps arctic water is typically even MORE freezing, but I doubt it. Possibly to the Icelandic the word "thermal" means "dirty, slippery seaweed covering everything." While the rocks were somewhat difficult to navigate, the seaweed growing on them made them difficult to see. Yuck. I had to walk another mile to get away and then climb a rocky, grassy hill to get back to the main path.
I walked through another cemetery, this with more recent and less moss covered stones, and another mile or two of mostly dull suburban neighborhood to get back to central Reykjavik (which I love) and ate my first pylsa or "Icelandic hot dog". For a mere 6 dollars, I got to eat a delicious snack of encased pork remains, along with a Coke to wash it down and a Snickers bar for later. After approximately 5-6 miles of walking and snacking on sugar packets and Nature Valley granola bars, it was a welcome treat.
Feeling much better, I returned to my hostel, dropped off some unnecessary items I had been carrying with me and headed out into the streets for part II of my first day here.
So far I am yet to meet any other travellers. I see them, but none seem too interested in chit chat. We´ll see what the next 24 hours bring.
I also love this city.
Still, I have no illusions about it ever being appropriate for me to live here. While it is practically perfect in so many ways, it is so distinctly Icelandic that I would imagine it near difficult for a foreigner to ever feel at home here. It is homogenous in a way that I am unfamiliar. Not only is everyone here the same race (white), they are also of the same background and culture. While the town is brimming with tourists (Spanish, Italian, British, American, a few Chinese), I cannot help but feel like I am intruding in someone else´s home. I don´t mind it much, as I am only visiting, but I feel that attempting to assimilate here would be far more impossible than it is in a more heterogenous city. Furthermore, the architecture and style of the city seem mostly homogenous. No two houses are identical, and each home and garden has its own personality, I do not sense the presence of distinct neighborhoods as one would find in New York, L.A. or London. I don´t mind this, as the people nor architecture are not lacking in personality, but I find it surprising for a city of even this size.
As I noted previously, Sunday is a quiet day in Reykjavik. After I left the internet cafe this morning, I wandered down the main drag, noticing the high end shops and (recently closed) bars. The buildings are all made of stone, often covered with what appears to be gravel. Many of them are brightly colored. I don´t know why they are brightly colored, (red, blue, etc.) but somehow manage to avoid tackiness.
The weather is (to use one of my favorite expressions) "not entirely unlike" the weather in Costa Rica, but much colder. The sun will be shining, and within 5 minutes it will be raining. Not a cold, miserable rain, but a brisk, fresh rain that soon stops. Thus, the streets are always wet, and the air is always clean feeling, but I do not sense any of the dirty dampness characteristic of London.
I walked through a beautiful old cemetery, covered in moss, each grave its own garden. Names such as Gudmonson, Bjornsdottir and Magnusson are carved into medium sized stones. Most of these dead seemed to have been born between 1830 and 1930, and many lived well past the age of 80 or 90. It was in this cemetery that I got got in one of the more ferocious rain bursts. I attempted to write a postcard, but the rain made doing so impossible.
I walked around a beautiful pond, where locals and tourists fed ducks. I walked again to a huge church in the middle of town and managed to catch the Lord´s Prayer in Icelandic.
Feeling ambitious, I decided to walk the two miles south to a "geothermal beach" marked out in the Lonely Planet Reykjavik map. Two miles is much easier to SAY than to WALK. By the time I reached the beach (after having circumlocuted (is this the correct word? (No, it isn't; the correct word would have been "circumnavigated")) the domestic airport), I reached this beach, only to be very disappointed.
The "geo-" was clearly there. The beach was unpleasantly rocky. Rocky, and not particularly clean. The "thermal" part, however, was nowhere to be found. I put my hand in the water, only to find it freezing. Perhaps arctic water is typically even MORE freezing, but I doubt it. Possibly to the Icelandic the word "thermal" means "dirty, slippery seaweed covering everything." While the rocks were somewhat difficult to navigate, the seaweed growing on them made them difficult to see. Yuck. I had to walk another mile to get away and then climb a rocky, grassy hill to get back to the main path.
I walked through another cemetery, this with more recent and less moss covered stones, and another mile or two of mostly dull suburban neighborhood to get back to central Reykjavik (which I love) and ate my first pylsa or "Icelandic hot dog". For a mere 6 dollars, I got to eat a delicious snack of encased pork remains, along with a Coke to wash it down and a Snickers bar for later. After approximately 5-6 miles of walking and snacking on sugar packets and Nature Valley granola bars, it was a welcome treat.
Feeling much better, I returned to my hostel, dropped off some unnecessary items I had been carrying with me and headed out into the streets for part II of my first day here.
So far I am yet to meet any other travellers. I see them, but none seem too interested in chit chat. We´ll see what the next 24 hours bring.
posted by Jed at 2:30 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Jed! Cool that you're keeping a travel blog, I will try to read it from time to time. Sounds like you're having a great time so far! I sent you an email through myspace, but just in case you are not checking that...
I'm at my friend's place in Paris right now (crappy French keyboards!) and will be here until Wednesday. I have my cell with me (+1 651 208 9201), or you can email me too, if you know where you will be. If you go to London or Paris, I can put you in touch with some peeps.
Take care :)
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