FINALLY--the Aurora Borealis!

We were lucky enough to see the northern lights on the drive back from Snaefellsnes on Tuesday night, but I thought the pictures deserved their own post!

Not a very good shot of the lights, but I thought the cars looked cool in this one!

A Journey to Snæfellsnes (among other things)

Last week, my parents came to visit, and with the aid of their rented car we got to go to some pretty nifty places.

When they got there on Sunday, we drove the Golden Circle, which was challenging to accomplish in the limited daylight hours, but we got to Gullfoss just as the sun was fading. One interesting difference from when I saw it back in September was the geysir—the air was so cold that you could barely see the water shooting up when it erupted because of all the steam.

Once I got out of class on Monday, we drove out to the Blue Lagoon. The Blue Lagoon has a reputation for being a tourist trap, but it's not very busy in the winter, and, unlike your average tourist trap, it is actually amazing. The “lagoon” is a man-made pool in the middle of a lava field, fed by water from the output of a nearby geothermal plant. The water is very warm, even hot, and filled with silica and sulphur, which are apparently good for the skin. Because of the mineral content, the water is an opaque, pale blue, giving one the impression of bathing in bantha milk. There are also boxes around the edge of the lagoon filled with light-gray silica mud to put on your face, which I could compare to the mud Buffy puts on her face in that one scene in “Restless,” giving this paragraph an extra-high nerd reference content (yesss). Or I could just say that it was a very nice facial. We drifted around the lagoon for a glorious few hours, and it was definitely one of my favorite Icelandic experiences!

Tuesday we indulged our collective literary-nerd interests and drove out to Snæfellsjökull, the volcano made moderately-famous by being the gateway to the Center of the Earth, according to Jules Verne. I’d skimmed through the first half of A Journey to the Center of the Earth since arriving to re-read the bits about Iceland. (Thanks, Project Gutenberg! You are an endless source of distraction.) This was entertaining, as the Reykjavík of 1864 was little more than a village, yet the descriptions of Icelanders’ personality and culture was familiar to me from both my Folklore class and actual experiences. Anyway, we didn’t see any dinosaurs, but the Snæfells peninsula is just as beautiful and dramatic as the rest of Iceland.

I think this and the next two photos are from around Hvalfjörd, which we drove around on our way to the tip of Snæfellsnes, where the volcano is.

Icelandic horses: so adorable

Snæfellsjökull

We also saw this wicked cool lava formation:Local folklore says that the elves use it as a church.

Before the Norse settlement, Iceland was home to a small group of Irish monks, who apparently went there for the solitude so they could meditate in peace. (If that’s what you want to do, then Iceland’s a pretty good place to do it.)

One of the few relics they left behind was this well. If it was really built before the settlement, then this well is over 1,100 years old. What’s that on top of it, you say? Oh, just a whale skull. No big.

The remainder of the week was spent doing things in Reykjavík. We went to the Culture House to see the manuscript exhibition (so cool!), the Saga Museum, and Reykjavík 871 ±2. The Saga Museum has life-sized silicon figures representing the characters from key saga stories; as you walk through the exhibit, you listen to an mp3 player narrate the stories, taking you through the history of Iceland (according to the sagas, at least). I was a little skeptical of this one going in, but it was actually very interesting and cool. There’s almost a ridiculous amount of blood and screaming—all in the name of authenticity, of course.

View of Reykjavik from the Saga Museum

I just really like taking pictures of sunsets.

My parents at the top of the Saga Museum!

Reykjavík 871 ±2 is a wild, futuristic exhibit surrounding the foundations of a longhouse excavated a few years ago. The house is one of the oldest signs of settlement found in Iceland, and the name of the museum refers to the estimation of its date. All around the excavation, you can see ghostly figures going about their lives in a cyclorama representing what the Reykjavík area looked like in the 9^th Century. (Spoiler Alert: it looks like a whole lotta nothin. By which I mean, it was green and beautiful and almost completely devoid of people.) By touching buttons, you can illuminate particular features of the house, and touch screens allow you to learn more about the Viking Age, and what daily life was like during the period of settlement. No description of this museum I’ve ever read fails to compare it to Star Trek. So: think of it as part holodeck, part tricorder, except the technology isn’t THAT good yet, except it’s actually still incredible and more history museums should look into doing this kind of exhibit.

Mini Post on the Topic of the Enigmatic Oven

I have no legitimate complaints about Gamli Garður. Our rent is pretty low for having single rooms in the middle of the city. The common rooms, bathrooms, and laundry room are all perfectly decent. The building is well-insulated enough that even though it was already cold when I got here, it wasn’t until about a month ago that I actually started turning on my heat. I hate that my window is small and that I can’t see anything out of it except for THE INTERMINABLY GRAY SKY unless I stand on my desk, but that’s what comes of living in the basement, and it can’t be helped. The kitchen is usually in a pretty unfortunate state, but that’s what comes of sixteen people sharing a kitchen. So what’s wrong with the oven, you ask? Nothing much. As with the other things that irritate me about Gamli, it’s really just silly.

See this? Ignore the grossness of the range, and look at the knobs. What’s missing? If you answered, “Any kind of ANYTHING that would indicate what any of them do,” you’d be right. Well, obviously the four on the right control the range, but it took some trial and error for us to figure out which way meant hot and which meant cold. (If anyone living in Gamli in the future somehow stumbles across this blog—the answer is the 10:00 position is the coolest; 2:00 is the hottest. You’re welcome.) And obviously, the second from the left controls the temperature of the oven, but again, you’ll notice the distinct lack of any markings. When I bake something, I just turn the knob to the middle and check it every five or ten minutes to see how it’s doing. So far, that’s worked out reasonably well. Then there’s the enigma of the far left button. We still don’t completely understand that one. You have to turn it to something in order to heat the oven, but what any of those somethings are is a mystery. The best part of all this is the grease-stained cheat sheet left to us by some previous occupant of the Gamli basement:

“No Guaranty” is right. The original work was in pencil, and someone this semester did some corrections in pen, but it still doesn’t help much. As you can see, the original person got the range knobs wrong, and lord knows what the temperatures of the oven really are. Aaand, we still don't know what those symbols on the left knob are supposed to mean.

Shenanigans in the Westman Islands

The Westman Islands on the horizon, seen from the harbor in Iceland.

This weekend a group of seven of us rented two cars (outrageous, really, that this was a cheaper option than the bus) and made for the Westman Islands! We stayed in a very nice hostel, and since it’s the off-season, we had the WHOLE PLACE to ourselves, which meant we could cook quinoa burritos and play uproarious games of charades to our hearts’ delight. Heimaey is the only island large enough for a town, and it’s a small one at that—only 4,000 people. What you really want to go to the Westman Islands for, though, is the ASTOUNDING NATURAL BEAUTY, so most of the limited daylight was spent hiking.

Pulling into the harbor

In 1973, a volcano erupted on Heimaey, burying hundreds of homes beneath lava and creating a hefty chunk of brand new land on the island’s eastern side. Also, a 221-meter volcanic cone JUST POPPED OUT OF NOWHERE OVERNIGHT. We hiked the cone, Eldfell, and let me tell you, it was WINDY. Getting blown over was a serious concern. The ground all over the island is covered in tiny bits of volcanic rock, and it makes a delightful crumbly-crunchy sound when you walk on it.

lava lava lava

Top of Eldfell

Trying to keep my hat from flying off

All that green stuff is the moss-covered lava of the new land--2.5 sq. km worth!

Town of Heimaey

Later we went back out and climbed Stórakliff, which Lonely Planet describes as a “craggy precipice,” which must be reached by a “treacherous 30-minute climb,” and is “worth the terror for the outstanding views.” All this is true. There are ropes running up the side of the cliff that are extremely helpful in getting up, and absolutely necessary to get back down. The crumbly rock ground means there’s not much to get a decent foothold on, not to mention, that thing is STEEP. The sun was setting as we reached the top, so the view was even more spectacular than normal. I was a bit sore for a couple days afterward, but I’m so glad I did it.

Radio tower and weather station at the top of Stórakliff

I don't know if you can quite tell, but there's an ENORMOUS flock of birds hanging around the beach down there.

I feel this photo doesn't even begin to capture how alarming this descent was.

Stórakliff, seen from outside our hostel the next morning

Sunday morning we wandered around the town, and down to the coast, where we saw some turf houses, nifty basalt, more astonishingly beautiful water, a Mormon monument (who knew Iceland had so many Mormons?), and climbed another rather steep hill.

"In memory of Icelanders who heard the call to build Zion and emigrated to Utah" (Apparently about 200 of them up and converted in the 1800's.)

You can see Iceland waaay in the back there...looking all cold and glacier-y

In the afternoon we drove out to the southern end of the island, which is supposed to be the windiest place in Iceland, and possibly Europe. Sometimes the wind gets up to 70 mph! After our experience on Eldfell, I was ready for something really intense, but when we were there it was actually pretty tame. There were some sheep though, and another lovely sunset.

As if you hadn't seen enough pictures of sheep...

After that, we stopped at a gas station to get some gummis (so good!), and took the evening ferry back to Iceland.

Some Particularly Choice Grapevine Articles

I’ll get my post about last weekend’s trip to the Westman Islands together as soon as possible, but in the meantime, let me share with you the joys of The Reykjavík Grapevine.

The Grapevine is an English-language newspaper that mostly exists for the tourists. Contrary to what you might think from reading the rest of this post, they do cover serious stories in a serious manner, but they also have a tendency to publish articles whose headlines sound more like something from The Onion.

Pagan Magic Worked Against British and Dutch

Sweeping Cat Legislation Passed in Kopavogur

Despite Unemployment, No Icelander Wants to Work in a Fish Factory

Crazed Raven Killed by Authorities I read a paper for my folk tales class that claimed ravens could attack and kill horses. I don’t think this is true. Regardless, ravens are not to be trifled with.

Breast Milk Turned Green After Sports Drink I would freak the hell out if that ever happened to me.

Iceland Competing In Elephant Polo Tournament "We need a sport that we can dominate globally."

And then there’s the saga of Jón Gnarr’s mayorship. Gnarr’s Best Party—a motley crew of comedians and musicians—won control of the Reykjavík City Council earlier this year, which really tells you something about the state of Icelanders' relationship with their government at the moment. They ran on a platform of having free towels at public swimming pools, putting a polar bear in the city zoo, and breaking their campaign promises. Imagine if Jon Stewart ran for mayor of New York City and actually won. That’s pretty much what happened here. There’s also a movie out about him now, that, in typical Gnarr style, is half actual documentary of his experience with the Best Party, half him just making stuff up to mess with people.

Mayor’s Internet Porn Use Discussed in City Hall

UPDATE: Mayor Was Kidding

Reykjavik Mayor Jon Gnarr Gets a Tattoo

UPDATE: Reykjavik Mayor Taken Ill By New Tattoo of City Logo

Mayor’s Polar Bear Project Still Ongoing

Mayor Apologizes for Breaking Campaign Promises Well, he did warn them.

Icelandic Alien Society: Jón Gnarr Is Not an Alien It’s like Birther-gate! On a GALACTIC scale!

For one last bit of Gnarr, here is his “Mayor’s Address” that appears in the front of some print editions of the Grapevine:

The odds of you being in Reykjavík are not great. The greatest part of mankind is elsewhere. It is scientifically proven. When I was little, I would often ask myself why I had been born in Reykjavík. Is it a coincidence where one is born? Is it subject to some universal law? Did I exist in any form before I was born? Did I have anything to do with where I was born? Why did Eva Braun and Adolf Hitler not bear any children? Did they not try to? Can it be that no child wanted them as parents? I don’t know, but I do not believe in coincidence. I do not believe that God plays dice, especially not when human lives are concerned. These thoughts inevitably lead one to consider Schrödinger's cat. He is probably one of the most famous cats in the world (maybe after Ninja Cat). Still no one knows what it was called? What was Schrödinger's cat called? Abracadabra? I don’t remember. Let’s call it Phoenix. That is a common name for cats. Phoenix was of the nature that it both existed and not. Therefore, it always existed, and even if Schrödinger killed his cat in a rather tasteless manner, it is still alive at Schrödinger's house, while Schrödinger himself has been dead for a long time.

Does this mean that I always existed, or that I never existed and do therefore not exist now? That can’t be! It would mean that all our existence was unreal and only existed in our own imagination. If I do not exist, then neither do you. I have a hard time believing that. The facts speak for themselves. If I am not real, then how could I fly to Finland, send myself a post card with a picture of Tarja Halonen, the President of Finland, fly back home and welcome the mailman that brought me the card? I don’t know. I am one of many Icelanders that believe in elves and trolls. I mainly believe in Moomin elves. It is more of a certainty than a belief. I have seen them and touched them. I know they exist. I have been to Moominworld in Naantali, Finland. I have evidence; photographs, video recordings and witnesses. I had a good talk with Moomin Papa. He told me that life in Moominvalley was much better after Finland joined the EU. He encouraged us Icelanders to join the EU. He also said that the Moomins had always existed, long before Tove Jansson “invented” them. The Moomins are eternal, at least in books.

I hope these thoughts shed some light on the history of Reykjavík and its culture. I hope you enjoy your time in Reykjavík, that you go swimming a lot and tell all your friends how fun Reykjavík is, and how everyone is always happy there and that you will never forget your hotel, Suðurlandsbraut and the eternally young cat Phoenix.

There's something AWESOME in the state of Denmark!

Two somethings, in fact!

A couple weeks ago, I flew to Copenhagen to visit Emily and Rachel at DIS! I woke up at an UNFORTUNATE time on Friday morning, and here’s why. My plane to Copenhagen left Keflavík at 7:45 AM, and the only bus I could take from Reykjavík to get there in time left at 5:40 AM, and I had to wake up even earlier because I had to walk from my dorm to the bus station. It was cold and dark, but not nearly as miserable as I expected it to be, and I got to the station in plenty of time.

[INTERLUDE from day before: I went down to the bus stop by the dorm to check if there were any city buses running that early so I wouldn’t have to walk the next morning. (Answer: no.) While I was perusing the timetables, a guy started talking to me in Icelandic, and I was all, “Whaa?” and he was like, “Oh, are you from the States?” As it turned out, he was, too, and we started talking, and, as it turned out, he’s a Mormon missionary. We had a brief, pleasant, though in some places laughably predictable conversation while he waited for his bus.

Mormon: So what are you studying?

Me: Well, at home I study English literature, but here I’m taking classes on Icelandic culture and folklore, so I’m really enjoying that right now…

Mormon: So, have you read The Bible? Because you seem really interested in old books and things.

Did you catch that nice transition there? These guys don't mess around.]

I got into Copenhagen no problem and no one tried to stop me from bringing 22 packets of ranch dressing into the country, so that was a success. (Explanation: I asked Emily if there was anything I could bring her host family to thank them for letting me crash at their house for four days. She said her host mom loves ranch, but they can’t get it in Denmark. Bónus does, in fact, carry ranch dressing, but…only in little individual packets, not bottles. So I just grabbed a pile and hoped the lady at the cash register wouldn’t judge me too much.) I hung around for a couple hours at Starbucks. Drank some tea. Ate a sandwich. Finished Independent People. (Finally!) And thennn, JOYOUS REUNION! Emily and Rachel came to pick me up!

That night we made dinner at Emily’s host family’s house. Sort of. Her host dad was seriously judging our cooking methods, and ended up doing most of the work himself. It was an excellent dinner, and afterwards we went into the city and wandered around, then saw host dad’s friend’s band play at a bar. It was a nice, relaxing first night, which was good because I was still getting over a cold. (Blerg!)

Saturday we went to the deer park in Klampenborg, which was beautiful!

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Psh, deer. They’re all over the place.” But no, no—these were exciting, European deer with great big giant antlers AND we saw a couple of them FIGHT. A little bit. They weren’t that into it.

The park itself is 11 square kilometers and absolutely gorgeous, so it would have been worth it for the walk, even if we hadn’t seen cool deer.

We also had a pleasant surprise—there was some kind of family kite-flying festival going on in the park, so in one area there were all these people with their kids flying kites. It was just a lovely thing to stumble upon, and made me really happy!

We spent about four hours walking around the park, and then we went back to Copenhagen and ate a scrumptious dinner at Mamma Rosa (where they charge 20 kroner—about $4—for a glass of water! Ridiculous, Denmark.)

The tasty, tasty ice cream sundae we split

After dinner we met up with a few of their non-Wooster DIS friends (excellent folk, the lot of them!) at Tivoli, which is the second-oldest amusement park in the world!

It was all decked out for Halloween. (Pumpkins! Everywhere!) We saw part of a bizarre, breakdance-ballet show—I still don’t have a clue what the plot was, but it sure looked cool.

The chicken-clown-vampire-man appears to have been the villain of the piece. That's all I know. They sort of lost me when the teddy bear showed up.

Then we wandered around the Halloween market and tried on some goofy hats, then went on the giant swing ride! It goes up pretty high and you can see over the whole city. It looked beautiful at night.

There was also a gazebo where you could try the Playstation Move for free, so we had some fun with that. Emily and I put our collective dignity on the line by dancing to “Poker Face,” followed by—and let me just note that this was Emily’s choice—“U Can’t Touch This.” Seriously? It was actually a ton of fun, and much better than DDR.

Emily and Mason dancing to "Bulletproof"

Rachel MAY have injured her shoulder due to swatting at virtual flies a little too vigorously.

Mason, Rachel, Emily, and I hung out chatting late into the night, and had a strange, ambiguous conversation with a Dane while waiting for our train at 3:00 in the morning.

Dane: Have you ever been involved in a crime here in Copenhagen?

Us: …No…

Dane: Would you like to try?

Us: …No…

We couldn’t figure out whether he was offering us drugs, offering to mug us, or inviting us to participate in mugging someone else. He left right after that, though, so I’m afraid his intentions shall always remain a mystery.

Well, SPEAKING of drugs, on Sunday we went to Christiania.

Some rules: No hard drugs. No weapons. No violence.

Christiania is an autonomous collective in the middle of Copenhagen, where scruffy hippie folk openly sell marijuana in various forms on the aptly-named Pusher Street. They also sell a lot of beautiful jewelry and knitted things.

It’s a charming little town-within-a-town—lots of colorful murals, lots of colorful people. Pretty much what you would expect. We wandered around, played on some rope swings, and ate a delicious, long-awaited dinner at a little restaurant, where a live band was playing folksy music. After dinner we got hot chocolate at a place Rachel insisted has the Best Hot Chocolate in the World (True!), and then we went home.

Monday was quieter, because Emily and Rachel had class, but Emily and I did go up the Round Tower.

The Round Tower, built as an astronomical observatory!

Made it to the top!

Copenhagen!

I display BLATANT disregard for warning signs.

After classes were over, we met up with Jordy and Lauren (more Wooster people!) and got coffee at a BEAUTIFUL coffee shop called Paludan. I wish I’d taken a picture of the inside—it’s a fantastic old wooden building, and not only does it have reasonably-priced coffee (for Denmark), it’s also full of books. Books!

I'm a big fan of this wolf-gargoyle.

That night Emily’s host family made a traditional Danish rice pudding dish for dinner (yum!) and Emily studied for her biology test while I started reading 101 Reykjavik (yikes).

Of course we ate pastries at SOME point.

I’m very proud of myself for successfully navigating the Copenhagen public transportation system all by myself on Tuesday! I got coffee with Rachel at The Living Room, and then it was time to go! I missed both of them a lot and was sad to say goodbye so soon, but we’ll be seeing each other and all the rest of the Wooster crew again in LESS THAN THREE MONTHS! I’m registering for Spring semester classes tonight, so sometime in the wee hours of the morning I will find out just HOW excited I will be for next semester.