Backseatpacking

This is being written a bit late, since it took me three days and several search attempts to realize that my camera cable had fallen between my bed and the radiator. I rock.

Sunday was the last full day the guests were going to stay in the Ice Cream Land, amd we had been planning to drive around the Snæfellsnes peninsula. However the moods had changed overnight, so when I arrived to their hotel in the morning they declared that it's too far for daytripping. I agree that it probably would've taken all day, but would've loved to do it anyway. I opted against issuing many complaints, since after all, it was their holiday, and if it means they'd rather have a good and completely assured sleep before leaving with the morning flight, who am I to judge?

Nonetheless we decided to cram into the car and drive north for some time and turn back when we feel like it. It was still tremendous weather. The folks had to endure some wind, but they didn't receive a single drop of rain during a long weekend in Iceland. I think they could make it into one of these cheesy testimonial style ads. "Yes, we indeed spent a full weekend and then some over there, and like you can see*, it really didn't rain at all! And if that's not good enough for you, I also lost 30 pounds!* Wow!!!" *photoshops go here

We drove slowly along the Whale Fjord, pulled the car off road quite often and marveled at the numerous truly photogenic and beautiful sites. The variety of the landscape just occasionally leaves you breathless, since this location is not very far from the one in previous picture, and it got even more snowy a bit later. This also deserves a mention for hilariousness, since dad got to take a swipe at the traffic sign-wise confused backseat.

We later ended up in a small and delightfully old fashioned café in the small town of Borgarnes and caused utter confusion by communicating at least in Finnish, English, Icelandic, Swedish with an Icelandicesque accent (I seem to do this a lot, sadly) and German. The route back to Reykjavík also ran through Akranes, where we amused ourselves looking at the curiously colored houses on the shoreline and picking smooth pocket stones at a remarkably windy beach.

The beauty of this country is such that you don't need to go anywhere in specific to find the kind of view which is capable of leaving you speechless in admiration. Even if you should get bored looking at Esja or the gorgeous sky in the city, just take a hike, a bike or a ride out of it. I guarantee you, you won't travel far before you first have to stop for pictures.

Good omens

Well, the interview's done. She showed remarkable patience in spelling embarrassingly many of her answers and even translating a couple of my wacky extra questions to Icelandic, thus extending the list of things I can say in the language these days pretty much to: yes, no, I, hot chocolate, numbers from five to nine (one to four have to be declined), to be or not to be, sunny is a nice weather for ducks, how to disappear completely and to set yourself in fire.

I think I actually need to figure out "... and never be found" to be even bit more of a show off.

My visitors seem to be travelling under some truly favourable stars, since Iceland has been gracing us for the past two days with the most perfect weather. It's been barely freezing definately cloudless almost all the time. Instead of a "spot the sunshine" -game we've actually been resorting to "spot the sole cloud".

Yesterday evening was dedicated to visiting the Blue Lagoon which is kind of an industrial accident turned into a tourist trap. I make the premise sound a wee bit sour, but I couldn't help being very very enchanted by the place. Should you have never been there, take a look at this photo from a little pond next to the entrance to actual spa facilities. It gives you an idea. In addition to the water being something like what we in Finnish tend to call "bird's milk" the views were just spectacular, if you could ignore the power plant in the background, of course. We were one of the last guests to leave, so we got to watch the day turn into a night in the lagoon. If possible, it was even more beautiful in the evening lighting. Several couples seemed to agree, making out more or less discreetly in the water.

One of the Blue Lagoon's fun effects was that my beard was afterwards very stiff. I probably could've used it as a substitute steel brush and employed myself in the paint removing industry. The womenfolk complained that their hair was tying itself on dreadlocks, but they looked way too relaxed and happy for those complaints to be taken seriously. I had it in my hair as well, and I totally looked like an anime character this morning. I wouldn't give full credits to that bird milk water though, since I often do. Like I've been saying, I don't have bad hair days, I just have different hair days.

After a well slept night we embarked on a Golden Circle tour. Like I wrote earlier, I had been a terrible Iceland habitat, and hadn't really seen any of the landscape outside the city yet. It was as much discovery for me as it was for my guests. The weather was very generous for us to show everything in its full glory. The landscapes are just out of this world. Since I come from the land of ubiquitous flatness and view-blocking forests it is just such a different experience to see the rocky, harshly chiseled cliffs and plains roll in constantly different bur always unearthy shapes and forms. The texture and color of the landscape is ever changing, from mossy green to burnt orange to completely dark gray and barren. And since that apparently isn't enough, everything is here and there sprinkled with curiously colorful houses, weird steam-producing contraptions, rivers that seem too quirky to ever flow straight and beautiful horses.

The whole country seems so special that it seems like an understatement towards it to call some specific places "must see sights." It also makes me wonder how thoroughly you get used to the things you grow up with. You just unconsciously start to take for granted something that someone else conciders the most enchanting thing they have ever seen. I know that the tourists visiting Finland look at everything completely with a completely different glee than I do, and many Icelanders don't seem to get all the enthusiasm we outsiders feel towards their landscape.

Yet sights we saw. The first stop occurred next to an information plate at Þingvallavatn which sort of caught us by surprise, nobody was paying attention to the right side of road when someone went "hey guys..."

The most marvellous part of Þingvellir I saw was the visitor centre. I say this with a little sadness in my soul, but it was also pretty much the only part I saw. Here I saw some indications that dad would've loved to go wherever I would've gone, but the stepside of the family didn't seem very adventurous. There seemed to be a fundamental difference in thinking about travelling between us. They didn't want to take the effort of walking down there because they didn't really know what they would've found there. I would've wanted to go exactly for the same reason. I realized that I'm not the tourist on this trip, so I just better suck it up and come back some other time, since I'll be able to. No arguments involved, but I felt a little bad for being so close and not actually seeing anything besides this view.

The geysir was up next, and what a jolly site it was! The first amusing thing was running into a couple of fellow Finnish exchange students also doing the same daytrip with their parents. The second were the chocolate muffins. The third were geysirs, when we finally got back outside. Dad has been to Yellowstone and the Old Faithful before so the phenomenon wasn't new for him, but the rest of us were caught admiring. This one also seemed a lot more active, going off every few minutes instead of every 46, if he recalls correctly. I've often spoken how one of my favourite feelings is this childlike amazement and wondering, when for example you aren't aware of how something works. I still occasionally get this when going to Heureka for example. Yes, I do love the place and its relatives, but I can now confirm that it's even greater when you get it in the nature instead of with something that was man made.

The last planned stop was at Gullfoss. The wind was very strong and apparently again demotivating for a part of our expedition, and they didn't want to descend to actually see more than an overview of the waterfall. This time I couldn't not go, so I sent them to wait at the café while I rolled downwards on the icy but surprisingly unslippery path. And as you might imagine, it was worth it. I was too busy being impressed and watching the thing slowly unfold to me to feel bad for the others. One thought that makes me feel especially warm is that even though it looked fantastic today, next time I'll visit it will probably be in a completely different weather and it will not look the same. The famous philosophical phrase about one not being able to step into the same stream twice seems truly in effect in here.

When we started heading back towards the City we could watch Geysir go off a couple of times more, but this time from a distance and in the car. We were around Hveragerði when the sunset was starting to be at its most perfect and since the road 1 emulates a true serpentine path just after, we were able to look down to the town which was being colored all over with pink and gold. Sadly no pictures from this.

What more can be said? I had tremendous time and Flickr is loaded with new stuff. I finally got around to see any of the things I came here for, and even if it took long, I can't be angry at myself about it any longer. And tomorrow, I hope, Snæfellsnes.

Interviewsection/intersectionview

Lots of goodness recently!

I've got some visitors now as dad came over with my stepmother and -sisters. This means a few things:
* They rented a car. That gives us a lot of flexibility for moving around. They'll want to do the Golden Circle on Saturday, but I'm thinking of a Tour de Snæfellsnes for Sunday.
* I received a shipment of Essential Finnish Goods. Salmiakki, rye bread, Fazer chocolate and alcohol. Only missing were a sauna and antidepressants, and of them I only crave one, but I'll leave it for you to figure out which!
* I can lure them into places where I would've liked to eat but have been too cheap to do it myself. I plan to do this by giving some vague, cheeky and totally made up recommendations about how the quality of offerings in this specific place would now perfectly complement and further magnify the greatness of our daily industrious activities.

Winter Lights Festival kicked off. I went to see Michel Moglia's fire organ show. Rather impressive, it has to be said! The loudness of that was perfectly balanced with a rather serene little art exhibition at the city hall, A Dark Light. I was especially impressed by the northern light paintings, the colors were wonderful. Obviously a painter can some extra touches of color, but she had not gone overboard with it.

Next week will be a "reading week" at the uni, and my classes are suspended. However, for the language classes we're supposed to do a little interview with an Icelander, in Icelandic obviously. My local connections are not especially plentiful, but they were enough. One of the people I met at the election office party promised to do it. The funny thing is that I hadn't seen her for a few weeks now, but after arranging a meeting for tomorrow, I bumped into her in the middle of the Lækjargata-Bankastræti intersection. It was an odd place to have a quick conversation, with cars going by on both sides. I'll just try to focus on my Icelandic pronunciation and hope she won't be calling the cops tomorrow for trying to kill her with laughter.

Other good stuff:
* A couple of Mr. Scruff's monthly Keep It Unreal mixes streamable at giantstep.net! The versions are shortened since KIU sets run for at least six hours, but it's still a highly adorable mix of soulful and groovy stuff. I've been planning to attend one of these myself, possibly even this spring or summer, and I even might be able to pull it off.
* Scruff's tea label, music videos and other involved silliness.
* Receiving updates on what kind of inside humor and memes have been going on among a certain group of friends since you departed, and still laughing, even when you only see them in text.
* The Fast Show
* Realizing that your teeth still indeed are capable of processing said rye bread.

Travelling without moving

Yesterday indeed turned out to be a huge personal culture experience. I had discovered that Kjarvalsstaðir recently opened a new exhibition with Jóhannes Sveinsson Kjarval's work. Their website spoke about the curator joining a guided tour on yesterday, so I thought that's a good point to begin my exploration.

It turned out to be in Icelandic. I stuck around nonetheless, trying hard to pick up any familiar words. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to pick up more than a few numerals and a few random words here and there. At this point I'm able to figure out some things from written Icelandic, but understanding speech seems very, very difficult. I think I've actually improved my Swedish more than I've learned Icelandic so far.

The lads at museum counter were very friendly, and answered my questions practically before I got to ask them, upon finding out that I didn't speak all that much Icelandic. Reykjavík Art Museum seems to have a rather nice system with the tickets. They have at least three different buildings in different parts of the city, but the receipt you get is valid for all of them for three days. At 500 krónur would not be bad for just one entrance, but you can actually get to the other parts with it as well. On Thursdays the entrance would be free, too. Tomorrow after the classes I'll probably take the opportunity to visit Hafnarhúsið, which holds at least their collection of Erró.

At the evening there was the Lifi Álafoss concert. I have no idea whether it was just a marketing strategy or a bunch of misunderstandings, but unlike many seemed to think, it was not really a Sigur Rós concert. Of the five acts they were the second to play. As the name suggests, it was a protest concert against a highway that's about to be built in the pristine area of Álafoss. The venue was sort of interesting. Getting there involved several staircases and asymmetrical, under-construction hallways, which gave the impression of the most shady secret practice room, but turned out to be a rather spacey, holding probably at least a couple of hundred people. It was a seated concert as well, this is apparently a Sigur Rós tradition.

The music, then... Amiina opened, and I couldn't do anything but smile and melt. Every gentle bow sound made the girls seem like magical creatures, which they probably are. Whenever in the middle of their slow swaying they bursted into little chants, I was even more confident of that. It was nothing but an audiovisual overload of shy and fragile but cheerful cuteness. And in the middle of a song I realized that I understood their verses.

Sigur Rós played next, and they were armed with what I'd call a truly great selection of songs. I love this kind of music they and Amiina play, it just captures every single cell in your body with its sheer beauty. At one point I remember feeling like I absolutely have to hold someone's hand, and I probably did.

These two marvellous bands sort of set the tone for rest of the evening, so unfortunately the rest of the stuff didn't really inspire me all that much. Pétur Ben's indie rock thingy was pretty fresh and interesting, but I think I was still floating way too high in SR's and especially Amiina's soundscapes. Next up were some Icelandic stand-up comics. First there were two charming and bald old men, whose skits I really would've wanted to understand, they seemed very interesting. The other comic act was a young guy in a red vest whose punchlines only seemed to be about raising the volume of his speech, and he got a lot less responses from the audience as well. After that there was a short and apparently involved performance from what seemed like a supersillified and still not very amusing version of Ultra Bra. Not too fond of that. Although at one point at the stage was something that looked like Vesa-Matti Loiri's midget brother, but in the end he turned out to be not a midget after all, which made it slightly less hilarious. Benni Hemm Hemm played last, and I sort of wanted to like it, but didn't all that much.

Nonetheless it was a very memorable evening. I would've had Amiina and SR play last, but still. The thorough happiness I found during their shows remained in me for the whole night. It was the kind of happiness that overwhelms you. I can't really think of anything whenever I feel that, but I don't want to either. It's definately one of the mindstates which make life worth living.

I just slowly floated and drifted homewards, perceiving everything as immensely beautiful and over and over again softly chanted "ég er ugla, su-sumar ugla..."

All shades of

I'm rather jealous at you Finland peoples for the fact that Ilosaarirock has managed to lure The Cinematic Orchestra to play there. It's a wonderful tradition they've made, having one artist from Ninja Tune every year.

In other news, my activity for getting a new apartment here kicked up a couple of gears yesterday. My grail is now full. Without going into the details, I'll just say that I thought I was living with adults, but apparently am not. I hope I can think of something, and quick. I really wouldn't want to get the living arrangements get the best of me, since otherwise I'm enjoying pretty much everything.

The past couple of days have been rather gray also in terms of weather, the kind when you just shouldn't move anywhere without having a spare raincoat or parach... umbrella with you.

Kjarvalsstaðir is open again, so I'm planning a visit. I was about to go today, but a quick look at their website revealed that the exhibition curator will join a guided tour there on Sunday. That sounded like a fair chance to get interesting inside information and remarks, so I'll try to go then. Might become a culturally frantic day, that Sunday!

I'll also get some visitors in a week, which is nice. There's a lot of things to look forward to in immediate future.

You are beautiful at all times

I am delighted to report that I am in possession of a ticket to the Lifi Álafoss!-concert next Sunday. In the words of Ian Holloway, I couldn't be more chuffed if I was a badger at the start of the mating season!

The other reason for an unbelievably happy morning is how much more pleasant dreams I've been having while sleeping in here. With the word dream I've usually ment daydreams in here, but now I'm getting a plenty of them at nights as well. Back home in Finland I used to only remember drunken nightmares, so this is one more rather welcome change in my life.

Last night I dreamed of a girl I used to have a bit of a crush on at secondary school, but haven't seen, or actually thought really, since graduating from Finnish equivalent of high school in... Three years now. It's fascinating how your subconscious occasionally reminds you of such things from the past.

For the first half of secondary school she used to seem a bit depressed and introverted, hiding behind really long hair and anonymous clothing, speaking even less and in quieter voice than I did at the time. I always thought that she was interesting, but knowing how bad at getting to know ladies I still am, it's no wonder that I never really got to know her.

But just in one day she changed. She cut most of her hair, wore different, lighter clothes with brighter colors and started smiling. You couldn't believe that she was the same person. I still don't know her or what she's up to these days so I have no idea why she seemed so depressed when I first met her, but all that just vanished overnight. For all I know, there could be some magic involved.

That's why she brings a smile to my face now when I remember her again. She is a real life fairytale.

The lazy traveller

So far I've been the worst Iceland visitor, I haven't really been anywhere outside the capital yet. Many people from our house have been rather laborous with daytripping, but I've never been able to go with them. Every single time I schedule something, it gets into way of something else.

And that's once every two weeks or so.

The situation is about to change though, since at least my dad is going to visit in a couple of weeks. I can use that to comfort my wanderer soul, which has started to wail a little. And then again, I still walk everywhere in the city, and am enjoying it rather much. I'll manage.

The UK English accents sound more and more lovely to my ears every single time I hear someone speak on them. I was occupying the hottest hot pot a couple of days back, and some lad stopped walking in when the water reached his knees. "Oi! 'tis too bloody hot!", he said. "Just bite yer tongue, mate!" I answered. I think my Scotsman impression is very lousy, but that led into a short but quirky conversation about Scotland, Finland and why Icelandic men live so long.

Our housing community seems to be rattling a little more day by day. At the beginning everyone was being very careful about not letting any dishes be around unwashed or water on the bathroom floor after taking a shower. Maybe it's sheer politeness towards people you don't know in the beginning, but now that we're starting to settle in, some of us are getting lazy or ignorant when it comes to common courtesy towards others. Doesn't really help to liven up the athmosphere in here. It's not like most of us don't like each other, but most of us don't like living here. Now my best friend from here is moving out so I'll probably stop calling this the Orange house, 'cause our future's not bright!

Besides that, life's good in Reykjavík. The ducks, swans and geese seem to be getting along fine at Tjörnin too. This morning I took a completely different route to the campus and was delighted that even if it looks longer on map, it really isn't. That adds even more variety to my morning walks.

When I popped by at Perlan, which also houses the Saga Museum, I thought that a wax character in lobby looked kind of like Richard D. James. A completely random Flickr browsing session revealed that I'm not the only one thinking so. The comment row is fun, too.

Tremors

The day before I got a different, but subtle reminder of where I live.

After classes I had wandered home and was lying on bed, maybe intending to take a nap, maybe listening to the soft hum of people taking a shower and preparing something for their lunches. The building shook for a second. It was nothing out of ordinary, just like a huge truck passing by if you happened to live just next to the street in first floor. Or someone using powertools downstairs, since the house still seems to be sort of in progress. I dismissed the whole thing immediately.

A few hours later a flatmate asked if I had noticed the earthquake. I had no idea what he was on about. When he said that it was around three in the evening, I suddenly remembered. "Oh yeah, it was like a truck driving by your window?" "Yeah, but there's no street under our windows." "Yeah! Yeah. Yeeaaaahhhh, true..." I dissolved into my thoughts. I'm not living on top of the oldest bedrock in the world any longer, but instead on a lot younger and more volatile vulcanic ground. I don't think it's discomforting, but it's something to know. Next time you won't mistake small earthquakes for a truck or something flying way too low.

Yesterday Reykjavík Grapevine or the most important English newspaper/magazine in Iceland invited the exchange students to a party. The invitation said something about a presentation at 21.00, a party afterwards. I had an absolute chuckle at the line "... and by free beverages we mean free bear." Obviously I had to go. I just made the mistake of finding the website of the place before going in. The background music of that site was so damn great I had to listen to it over and over again before leaving! Check out the third track, Aim's Cold Water Music. 'tis awesome.

I arrived late, but since the presentation was also late like everything in Iceland, I didn't miss anything. Sadly there was no Finnish bear-beer to be found, but the folks at Grapevine seemed like great blokes, true top geezers. I talked to the editor for quite awhile after the presentation. If I can't figure out anything else to do for the summer, maybe I'll try to overcome my doubts about my ability to become a journalist and give them a shout.

A few Finns afterwards went to a place where the main appeal is cheap beer. With these prices that's a rather nice appeal, so much can be forgiven. It was still rather interesting to enter. It wasn't packed full, and there were quite a few televisions. A couple were showing taped football, one was showing what looked like one of Sir Richard Attenborough's documents, one was showing gay porn. Hmm.

Oh well, beer was cheap.

A minor victory

To much of my delight, it's snowy and wintery again, and skies have been favourably cloudless. On Sunday I celebrated this occasion somewhat and went on a little picture tour. The colorfulness you occasionally get here just never ceases to amaze. Pure snow truly lights up at days like these.

I still feel like I'm only progressing in the language with baby steps, but yesterday for the first time I found myself giving an automatic reply to something unusual in Icelandic instead of English. Two guys were going to the pool before me, and the other paid for both by using these popular ten time admission cards. There was also someone behind me in line, so the lady inquired if I wanted to pay for two too. "Tvö?", she asked. "Nei, bara eitt" I answered and was rather pleased with myself for the next hour. I know it's such a small victory, but I'm hoping this could be the first step towards being able to use the language by instinct. In previous occasions I've often been half a second too hasty switching to English, I've missed so many good opportunities to show off my newfound Icelandic proficiency. I remember what I could've said in local language right after finishing saying that in English.

Since I've taken up the habit of posting stuff I've been wasting my time with, I might as well keep doing that whenever I feel so. I've presented visions of this hypermedia (this word makes me digress, but I use it anyway, since it's in the course title) production project to a few of you. I'm starting to believe that I can also craft the background musics and sounds myself. That gives me the liberty of owning all copyrights, so if it happens to become nice enough, I might start using it as a part of my résumé. The concept might be unveiled completely when everything starts coming together, but just to give you a general idea: The "storyline" jumps back and forth between two different but intertwining collections of mysteries, puzzles and demosceneesque animations. The light and happy side will be named Rhino Statist, the dark and gloomy is called I Shot Tristan. Both are anagrams of the actual name for the production, which some of you crafty readers could figure out rather easily. Here's some quick and crude sample tunes for the light side and the dark side.

The more you get into anything, the more there is to be learned.

Write it back

After finishing classes this morning we were walking away from the campus in a bright blue morning. The sky had a slight hint of gray in most directions, but on the southwest it was completely murky. The cloud masses seem to travel very swiftly, so after ten minutes of walking and watching the cumulonimbus chase us we were hailed from above.

The hailstones make your face feel all tingly and ruthless is their way onto the back of your exposed neck, unless you're clever enough to wear something with a hood. After a brisk and refreshing minute of that it turned, much to our disappointment, into a honest rain. A few minutes after the clouds were all gone again. Such is the weather in Iceland, temperamental and moody like the mind of a humanities student.

Hey, trust me. I'm one.

There's some trouble in our apartment again, since our only washing machine appears to be broken. When you have nearly a dozen tenants in here, you'll quickly have a lot of unhappiness and dirty clothes in a queue if something so crucial is out of order for some time. The other fridge isn't doing a very good job either. There's a growing sense of discontent among us. It doesn't really help liven up the feelings I have towards my living arrangements right now. Besides that, I'm enjoying my life in Reykjavík. Still, wouldn't a comfortable home be a rather essential thing when it comes to everyday happiness?

I try not to write about blogging, since I don't have much experience or knowledge about the subject. Since starting to write here more regularly, I've noticed something different in how I think about certain things. By now my contemplative nature should hardly be a surprise to anyone. I now sometimes find myself asking myself if I could weave the thoughts strings I was just going through into a pattern which could make sense for someone else. It gives me a different kind of view to the things I'm rotating around in my mind. Would this knowledge or experience be useful for someone? Could it be amusing or heartwarming?

I'm not trying to make myself too aware of my thoughts or direct them anywhere just for the sake of making them sound more interesting. Before I had my own blog I remember having a discussion about them with someone. I declared that blogs where people write about themselves are sort of diaries which they conveniently unlocked forget to somewhere public, sort of thinking whether someone will discover and read their thoughts or not. Some days the diary is forgotten somewhere really visible, sometimes it's mostly tucked under the morning paper. Now when I have some actual first hand experience with blogging, I stand by my opinion. It's a nice feeling to know that someone probably discovered what you had on your mind that given day. If they found it somehow significant or curious enough to make them come back some other day, then you must be doing something right. Even if it's the smallest, silliest thoughts, you're giving something to the world.