Day 5: November 9, 2015
My last post of my short, but sweet – literally, the water I tasted was so pure it was practically sweet – Icelandic adventure. I sit here listening to Icelandic band Sin Fang via Youtube due in part to the suggestion of the talented, beautiful stranger-friend artist, Kristyn, I made while searching for a way out of the Dundas West Union Pearson Express station. Seriously. We found an elevator… with no elevator.
We rode the subway east, exchanged our information and shared our stories which further solidified our love for the country. Kristyn, like many others, showed up for the Iceland Airwaves music festival: hundreds of bands playing throughout Reykjavik. Some of which we heard from the streets, but none of which we saw/listened to. Next time.
Woke up not-so-early. Ate breakfast solo. Changed and put on warm clothes to head out into the dark of the morning. There was ice on the ground – yet to be seen on this trip, and the skies were clearer and sunnier than they had been too. I made my way to the waterfront. I wanted to take a picture of what we dubbed, and likely what every other tourist calls, the “viking ship”. I have since learned that it, Sólfarið (Sun Voyager) is no viking vessel, but rather the artist, Jón Gunnar Árnason’s, rendering of a “dreamboat” symbolizing one’s journey to uncharted territories; his ode to the sun.
In between taking photos like a tourist-pro, I did the last of my souvenir shopping. Sadly, ‘Made in China’ is very much a part of troll and viking souvenirs. Somehow, I felt Iceland would be untouched in this way.
“Is this made in Iceland?”
“No, it is not made here.”
Say no more, you beautiful overly-expressive gift shop clerk.
I stopped in a coffee shop for a tea, finished my postcard writing, and dreamed of the next time. I also reminisced. Days prior there was some sort of hullabaloo in the streets: people wearing a lot of white and blue; some news cameras outside of a bar. I went up to a guy separated from his group,
“‘Scuse me, do you speak English?”
“Why, do you want a kiss?” Ha.
“Maybe later.” The wit! “Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
Young guy proceeds to say that Tuborg has come to Iceland. Up until a minute ago I thought this meant for the first time ever. Maybe it still does, but this site leads me to believe that J-Day is a thing that has been adopted in Iceland too, similar to their Danish friends and perhaps in this instance for the first time ever (if you can believe it, beer was banned up until 1989, so getting Tuborg is kind of a big deal considering).
It was time. The few of us left boarded the bus with Frikee and Erling for one last time. We listened to Erling’s pearls of wisdom and upon arrival at Keflavik airport said our farewells.
Even the planes bear names of the island. This one, Snæfellsjökull, is touted as one of the most important tourist attractions, though sadly, I did not pay witness to it. Next time next time N E X T t i m e.
Made famous, originally, to those who have read any Jules Verne (and maybe the only four chapters I’ve read):
That is Snæfellsjökull a mountain about five thousand feet in height, one of the most remarkable in the whole island, and certainly doomed to be the most celebrated in the world, for through its crater we shall reach the centre of the earth.
Chapter 4, A Journey to the Center of the World
We perpetually chased the sun until Toronto was in our sights.
Until next time. Ég ætla ad koma aftur til íslands.