A taste of Seltjarnarnes

Curious is the way things go.

I spent yesterday in one of the worst hangovers imaginable, which made the prospective moving business a little tricky. First of all, I had to get to Seltjarnarnes, so I got into a bus. A wrong one at that. How'd I manage that, I have no idea. Luckily I realized it soon enough.

After managing myself into a right bus, I wasn't completely sure where to drop off. I had tried to memorize the map of Seltjarnarnes since I didn't have anything printed. Luckily it ain't especially the biggest or the most wildly laid out town, so I managed to find the location quite efficiently. I also managed to control my bodily movement and the shaking apparently well enough to convince the folks renting the room to let me in. It turned out though that I sort of knew them from before. Have you ever shared a house with a German construction engineer, architect and plumber?

Me neither.

As of now, instead of noisy neighbours and non-existent household equipment, my room is lacking lighting, curtains, a bed and basically all other furniture, a door and an internet connection, but it's still an improvement over where I used to live. I can see a little sea from the yard, and to get to the shore for a proper panorama, I only have to walk a couple of minutes. The house of the single family flavour, a little on the older side, but definately cozy and on a beautiful neighbourhood. The services are close and the sweet, sweet Seltjarnarnes seawater pool is ten minutes away. Lovely.

The walk to downtown Reykjavík isn't much longer than it used to be either, but in addition to some furniture, acquiring a bike would probably be useful. I heard that the local police holds auctions for stray bikes in here too, and it should be soon.

I believe I will start wandering around tomorrow looking for a job, and whoever I talk about it to, seems very encouraging about finding one. Maybe I'll tempt fate and waltz into Morgunblaðið as well. And who knows, maybe I'll even have a door later this week!