Reykjavík




I did not take long to find a couchsurfing host to stay with.  I stayed with an interesting dude named Bjorn who was very much into music and politics.  Admittedly, he was a bit busy, so I didn't get to chitchat much, but he was waiting for me at the bus station and led me to his home pictured here.  It didn't look like much from the streetside, but from the backyard, doesn't this look like a fun place?



I did some bird-peeping in the backyard.  I was there in March, slightly out of season for puffins, so I had to make the most of it.  These birds are cute too.



Out of the 20 or so couchsurfers who expressed interest in joining me, only a handful showed up, like this dude who I knew from Boston.



And out of that handful, only Luis here joined me on my travels.  Luis (also known as Eduardo, or the Big E) is a really good friend to have.  I wanted to really see what Iceland had to offer, and try to see the Northern Lights.  He was all up for it.



 We were not alone though.  Here's the band of couchsurfers and hosts that were kind enough to join us at a quiet place called the "Næsti bar".  Næsti means "next" in Icelandic.  It's a wonderful concept for a bar.  You first go to a loud, wild bar somewhere in Reykjavík, then you go to a quieter place, or the "next bar".  It was a perfect place for us to get to know each other.  Braggi, a local, is on the far right, fielding some questions.  The girl with red hair in the lower left is Elfa.  You'll see other pics of Elfa later, but I'll jump at the chance to say she was a dream come true as far as guides in Iceland go.



Aside from Björk, who I admittedly used to call "Buh-jork" with J as in Joe, Iceland is known for its music from other musicians.  In a music store, two examples of these are being sold on the top shelf.  To the left is the latest album of Sigur Rós, an ethereal-sounding rock band, and to the right is Emilíana Torrini, who apparently sung "Gollum's Song" at the end of the second Lord of the Rings movie.  It's from Wikipedia, but that's too obscure to be false.



We came to this area for whale-watching, or at least whale-eating.  Whale-watching was out of season.



Thankfully whale eating was very much in-season.  This, my friends, is Minke whale.  As much as I prefer whales not be eaten, Icelanders supposedly only much down about seven per year, and the meat is SO good.  Picture the most tender, succulent steak you've ever eaten.  Mmmmmm.  I'm okay with giving them two or three more.



I saw this and grabbed it.  There's a stage in beer making where you have sweet, unfermented wort, and you can sample some before adding the yeast.  It tastes very good and it gives a good idea of what the resulting beer will be like, but it's too sweet to drink a lot of it.  Well, this carbonated beverage reminded me of that wonderful sweet beery taste.  It was not too sweet and frosty and refreshing.  Non-alcoholic, but I had to try it anyway.



After whale, we went for old-fashioned ice cream.  It's old-fashioned because it's made with milk rather than cream.  The ice cream was nice because it was different, but certainly is lacking in the smoothness of a creamier dessert.  Here I'm spying on the old-fashioned ice cream lady by leaning over her counter.



It was odd how she stacks the ice cream up tall and thin like this.  Perhaps old-fashioned ice cream makes a better construction material.  To the left of the ice cream, you can see some Icelandic krónur.  By the way, I'm pretty good at figuring out how to type out the authentic Icelandic letters complete with their accents, but if you're trying to figure out how anything Icelandic is pronounced, just stop.  It's a life-battle not worth fighting.



Here's proof that old-fashioned ice cream is good for construction.  This was how mine was served.  While the cup was a little heavy on one side, this isn't melting and about to fall over.  This is how it was served to me, and it gave me the impression it would stay at this forty degree tilt for at least another hour before something flopped over.



Here's actual Icelandic beer with a cute name.  The brewery is based in Reykjavík.  To the right is a glimpse of Jökull Bjór, a local beer from Stykkishólmur, another one of our destinations.  I only tried the latter.  It had a good flavor, but I'd much sooner choose a Belgian or German variety.



I heard of this famous hot dog stand on the internet.  Supposedly this gets visited by famous people, including former President Bill Clinton.  You go up, ask for the works, and eat what you get.  It's pretty cheap too.



Here's the picture of Bill Clinton patronizing the establishment that they have posted on a billboard.  Below that is my partially eaten hot dog.  They put two sauces on the hot dog, one orange and the other a pale yellow.  I believe one of them is called remoulade, which is a common condiment Icelanders use for hot dogs.



I peeked in a closed art store and saw this landscape painting with dramatic colors.



Here are less dramatic paintings in the same gallery.



I was pointed to this building housing a flea market.  I was told they open early in the morning and I could try cured shark meat here.



One thing I definitely grabbed a bag of was the dried fish.  They have different fish, but most is haddock.  It's the seaman's beef jerky.  Very fun to gnaw on and quite tasty.



Also at the flea market was plenty of clothing.  At the bottom you can see authentically-patterned Icelandic wool sweaters.  I don't particularly like the pattern, but I saw the type of weather sheep out there live in and was very convinced that you can make very warm sweaters from them.



All sorts of creepy walking sticks.



Here it is... cured shark meat.  THIS, out of all things, was one of the "must tries" during my visit to Iceland.  There are certain flavors that I find to be the most disgusting flavors on earth, and urine is one of them.  That's exactly what this tastes like.  I also have trouble with roquefort cheese, vegemite, dutch licorice, and unsweetened chocolate, but this was worse than all of those.  I was a trooper though, because this was effectively my lunch for the day, and proceeded to eat half of this before I gave up.



Memories from Iceland... mountain air.  I never knew they sold $15 dumb tourist taxes in cans.



A tall ship parked at Reykjavík.



I wandered on to Reykjavík's city hall.  It was in an interesting spot, with a entrance leading to a footbridge over a lake.



In this lake there's a swarm of birds.  The lake, like all of Iceland's hot water, is heated geothermally.  This attracts shivering birds.  As a result, there's a lot of crap on the sidewalk too, but I think it's worth it.



This effectively is like a bird hot tub.  Not that warm to us, but fine if you have feathers.



Plaques describing each type of visiting birds are mounted in front of the lake.  I found I could spend quite some time just watching and learning about these birds.



Ink was spilled on this eider's head.



A boy and his father were feeding breadcrumbs to these avians.



Eventually they ran out of breadcrumbs, so the swans scared them off.



Here's a bumpy map in city hall showing the layout of Iceland.  Reykjavík is to the southwest.



The lake got colder the farther you got from city hall.  Past the lake you can see Reykjavík with the beautiful Hallgrímskirkja church, at the time under construction, visible on the horizon.



Ólafur Thors served as a Prime Minister of Iceland.



"Breaking the Spell", by Einar Jónsson, who liked to portray mythological scenes.



As I headed north from the lake, I saw this building in the distance, thinking it maybe was the national museum I was looking for.



It turns out the national museum looked completely different.




No flashes allowed.



Ancient viking booty.



Mommy skeleton...



Daddy skeleton...



And baby skeleton!



Some of the original settlers of Iceland had worse fates.



They had nifty pull-out ancient documents.  When you were done reading, you slide the ancient document back in the wall.  I'd imagine this is better than constant light exposure.



There was an exhibition on child labor.  Icelanders value work and teach children at an early age how to be useful.  I really have no problem with children working, since I am no longer a child.



One of the early maps of Iceland drawn by sailors.  It has the contours roughly right.



This looked gold and expensive so I took a picture of it.



It's hard to imagine someone taking this coat of arms seriously.  Cute bear with big furry paws.



The museum had a conveyer belt displaying artifacts of modern Icelandic culture.  I used to have an Atari 7800 with Donkey Kong.  Iceland had fully embraced a consumerist economy.



Maybe this marketing works for Icelanders, but I really think they should have consulted a chef.  From the picture, I'd think there was a top-quality doorstop in that box.



Equipment used by fishermen.



It might be hard to see, but Icelandic fashion has at times become a bit experimental.



Old Icelandic dwelling.



Adjusted the camera settings, took a picture, and brightened accordingly later in Photoshop, all so you can see clearly inside.



As I rounded the National museum, I didn't realize I was stepping in more than a puddle.  This is a deep pool of icy water with no barrier, so if you're not watching where you walk, you can end up with a cold, wet shoe like I did, which is not good when it's freezing out.



Here's another couchsurfer, Cherie, who came to Iceland but decided against joining Luis and I.  I knew approximately where she was, and remembered she was talking about a pizza place she liked nearby.  I decided to swing by the pizza place thinking I might find her.  There she was, holding a pizza, about to go back to her apartment.  This is how couchsurfers find each other half the time.  You have to think logically about where someone will be and more often than not, you're right.  Cherie was considering moving out to Iceland, and this apartment is her trial run.  The phrase on her shirt means "I don't speak Icelandic."  Almost everyone in Iceland speaks English, and they're not shy of using it either, so this shirt is not really a necessity.  However, for those very frustrated with the difficulty of the language, I can see a shirt like this making a very pointed statement.



Here's Cherie's cat.  I could never bring myself to kill such a cute animal, but it was cold enough outside for me to name this kitty "Scarf".



Here's the oddly shaped "Pearl", made from converted hot water storage tanks.  One of the tanks was cleared for the "Saga Museum", which is all about vikings.



Sculptures outside the Pearl.



Viking statue in the Saga Museum.



The roof of the Pearl makes for a beautiful observation deck to see all of Reykjavik.



Mountains in the distance.



The Hallgrímskirkja church in the distance.



Traditional Icelandic lamb stew.



I think this was potatoes.  Oddly yellow though.



I liked the advertising here.  In Iceland, they like to eat sheep's heads.  Just seems weird, and this ad doesn't help either.



As the sky darkens, statues of warriors become more dramatic.



Castle-like buildings become more dramatic too.  Anything medieval works.



Here's a close shot of the Hallgrímskirkja church.



Luis's host, Anita, used the stairs as a shoe shelf.  She's a very easy to talk to person that loves paragliding.



As for me, I love this instead.



Elfa showed us around parts of Reykjavik too, along with the remaining west coast of Iceland.  She agreed it'd be good to meet up for food one more time before we left.  If I'm not mistaken, I think she knows how to use chopsticks the right way.  I certainly don't.



Here's the Asian cuisine she ate as we had our last moments together.



This was posted outside a clothing store in Reykjavik.  I saw this on my way back to my host's place.  When I got back, I met a good-natured couple that happened to be my host's new guests.  It was already late and I had to leave at some crazy time like 4am, so I let them take the couch rather than sleeping on the floor.  I left at 4am and made a wrong turn on the way to the bus station.  It was absolutely frigid, and everything was closed, so this was potentially dangerous to my toes.  Fortunately I found my way to the bus station.  That apparently was closed too, but a nice guy inside saw me crying near the window and let me in 15 minutes early.



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