I've loved Iceland from afar my whole, fell in love with Reykjavík and the tiny bit of the wilderness I managed to see last year, and can confirm that the love remains just as strong. This is being typed in Café Babalu, my favourite little nook for a chai latte, amazing carrot cake and stable wifi, and I'm nearly squirming with contentment.
It began before we'd even left Scotland.
Seats 4F and 4D. Are you sure? Are you...wait, let me see the boarding slip. Yeah. Those are our seat numbers...are you sure?
We were bumped up to first class without anyone telling us until we were forced to conclude that there wasn't anywhere else on the plane that we could sit. The headrests had hygiene cloths named after various gods and their titles. J swapped his from Freya to Thor at the suggestion of a fellow passenger. Free food! Massive seats! USB Power! Pillows! Blankets! Leg room! It was weird and bizarre and we never really relaxed as we were waiting for the stewards to tell us they'd found our real seats.
It's a completely different world without the blanket snow. The supermarket was just as perplexing as last time.
PYLSUSINNEP. Sounds like an Egyptian riff on a Lovecraft monster. The Egyptian Sausage Demon. Not sure if it's mayo, mustard or tomato-based. It looks like a bottle of glue, to be honest.
As far as we can tell, this is just chocolate. Not even with a fancy filling. Just chocolate. Except there's a faux Michael Jackson endorsing this chocolate. Draw your own conclusions.
....BUT WHY?!?!??!?!
It began before we'd even left Scotland.
We were bumped up to first class without anyone telling us until we were forced to conclude that there wasn't anywhere else on the plane that we could sit. The headrests had hygiene cloths named after various gods and their titles. J swapped his from Freya to Thor at the suggestion of a fellow passenger. Free food! Massive seats! USB Power! Pillows! Blankets! Leg room! It was weird and bizarre and we never really relaxed as we were waiting for the stewards to tell us they'd found our real seats.
It's a completely different world without the blanket snow. The supermarket was just as perplexing as last time.
Good sir,
ReplyDeletethere used to be a company through which you could "adopt" an Icelandic sheep. You got to name it, you got it's annual wool, you got to have a say in what ram it boffed, contingent on propinquity you could visit and even shear it, and half morbidly/half circle-of-life-ically, you could have the meat come slaughtering time. I adopted two; one I gave to my parents as a Christmas gift, one was mine for my very own. I named her Frigg and got to shear her one year.
The glue bottle is their special hot dog (pylsur) mustard (sinnep). It's brown and delicious.
Góða Ferð...
clw
Miss Tessie,
ReplyDeleteThe bottle, it's not glue, it's mustard. Horrible taste, but mustard.