December 13, 2006

As I may already have mentioned, I’ve just got back from a trip to Reykjavik.

Upon arriving, there was a blizzard, after which it rained, froze, snowed again, thawed, and then froze again.  This meteorological circumstance rendered the whole of the town an ice rink. Only with hills. Big steep hills.

Before carrying on, I feel I should point out that I am fully aware that national stereotyping is traditionally embarked upon by bigots, the ill-informed, and the Dutch. However, I found the Icelandic to be kind, helpful, terrifyingly punctual people. Yet like all peoples, they find it necessary to mock me in their own special way.

While I struggled to get around town, sliding about like Bambi on Ketamine, I was overtaken by OAPs, toddlers, uphill by a man with his child slung nonchalantly over his shoulder, and once by a man on an electric buggy.  Once this happened while I was being laughed at by a car full of children.

Even when life is good, in its own special way, life’s not good


One Response to “Mobility”

  1. MushyMajor Says:

    Iceland is the strangest place on Earth. Of course the incredible price of going out necessitates one carrying a wheelbarrow of gold bullion around if you want to get adrink in a bar, but other than that I thought it was fantastic.

    I particularly enjoyed the Blue Lagoon (especially the one with Brooke Shields), but the power station outflow was also incredible. I’m cold, no I’m warm, I’m freezing, no I’m being boiled alive, and I have white mud on my face.

    Did you partake of a tipple of ‘Opal’? The only schnapps that I can think of that is flavoured with Fisherman’s Friends. Grim.

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