Letters from Iceland

Ashamed

2011-04-11T11:18:00.000+01:00

Today, reading badly informed or ignorant news articles, even on the BBC, about Icesave and the recent vote in Iceland I am ashamed to be British. I would have expected something more balanced from the BBC which is funded by the nation, yet, as in the case of all Icesave reporting and even the Eyjafjallajökull news stories, it seems that sensationalism wins again. Comments on the news stories are in many cases sensible and decent from both Brits and Icelanders but there are also awful comments from readers that are still passing moderation; racist, ignorant and highly offensive. I am ashamed to have the same nationality as these people and today the British disappoint me, again.

A wedding under the trees and a ceilidh in the byre

2011-04-09T23:03:00.001+01:00

Ever since being a little girl I dreamt of getting married under the trees in my parents garden and I remember hearing Dad joke that if I got married we could have a dance in the byre - I thought that was a pretty good idea. So, I met a really great guy and he didn't think it was crazy. The pagan priest who we asked marry us did think it was crazy, which is why he agreed to fly over to Scotland from Iceland to marry us. And so many people that are important to us were able to come too, travelling from Scotland, Iceland, England and France. I started writing out here all the wonderful things people did to help but the list is soooo long. We are lucky to have such kind friends and families.

My Dad and my sister accompanied me to the tree cathedral and my old school friend piped us in.

Hazel ate my bouqet while we listened to Alsherjagoði

Óli sang "Ég fann þig" (I found you) for me.

I had no idea he was going to and I'd never heard him sing before.

and he and his friends played great folk music

Every party needs a Cumberland Square Eight

More than a year in Scotland

2011-04-09T22:31:00.003+01:00

Somehow a year has passed since the massive Samskip container was parked outside our flat and 4 men, 2 grandparents, one baby and I emptied it in the space of about 10 minutes. Throughout, the traffic warden, a great bear-like man, prowled about and gave warnings of hefty fines.

Since then we've missed two eruptions, got married, Hazel learnt to crawl, sleep through the night (phew), turned one, then started walking two weeks later when staying with her Scottish grandparents. She learnt to climb, to dance, and now is perfecting talking (salsa, salsa, more, more, tango, tango..). Óli has started writing mobile phone apps and I am addicted to spinning his (and H's) game hedgehog around his phone screen. I am writing papers and doing some teaching and enjoying being back around some of my old friends, the old building where I studied before and the new library which is all fancy and shiny and a wonderfully quiet place to hide and work. We have been lucky enough to meet some lovely new friends and to get back in touch with old ones. We miss Icelandic friends, friends and family in Iceland and the wonderful folk sessions. We are growing plants - but outside, not on our windowsill and are already munching on the fruits of our seed sewing. As much as possible on sunny days like today we live in the little garden and Hazel is trying her best to cuddle all the local cats (and today a spider). All the cats and the spider have so far resisted her charms. I think perhaps chanting "meeow, meeow, meeow (mjá, mjá, mjá) " and running at high speed with arms outstretched towards them doesn't help.

Keeping us busy

2010-02-17T16:11:00.000Z

Hazel and Kate at Reykjavík Zoo

Hazel and Óli cooking

A lack of blog posts because Hazel Ósk is keeping us busy and we are packing, packing, packing to move back to Scotland. however, I´ve just discovered Picasa some maybe more in the future.. or more once we are back in the UK, perhaps as Letters to Iceland.

Hazel Ósk

2009-10-06T16:13:00.003Z

Just home from the hospital

Our daughter, Hazel Ósk, was born on 28th August. She is now a little more than 5 weeks old and is doing fine. We are learning how to look after and what her different squeaks and calls mean. We are very thankful that she is a calm, generally happy baby and sleeps well at night. We were both really delighted by the great support we had in the hospital and that we were lucky enough to have two midwives from Neskaupstaður helping us through the birth.

I am amazed how the details of her birth have faded and gone fuzzy already. I do recall though that the birth took longer than I expected and I was very tired since I was too excited to sleep when the contractions started during the night .. but all of us were fine afterwards. I was so glad Óli could stay with me and help with lots of support and affection. I am now amazed that our time is taken up with a small selection of little tasks which rapidly fill the day. However, we have been venturing out more and more and have been for several walks and taken Hazel with us to the music sessions, a lecture, a meditation class, Kólaportið and the library. Tonight we all head out to a concert in the Kópavogur Irish Festival.

Just before going for her first "walk", a few weeks old

I am delighted that we can get around outside now (with some planning) since today we are celebrating the first decent snowfall. Autumn lasted a week or so with beautiful golden and red leaves but now I´d say winter is here. Esja has been white for days and now Kópavogur is too. Tree and snow pictures coming once I next get a chance to come back to the internet!

One month to go

2009-08-04T21:21:00.003+01:00

After a month of scorching sun the heavens have finally broken and I am actually pleased to feel rain in the air. At least for a little while.

News here is dominated by bank scandals and it fills my thoughts too often, leaving me feeling a great sense of indignation. There is little a foreigner with no voting rights can do, however. Although I think the economic future of Iceland will be distinctly gloomy for Iceland and for Icelanders (and those of us non-Icelanders who live here) for the foreseeable future I do think that these crises and bad times have brought a friendlier, more open attitude to the community. I hope things improve and that this togetherness feeling remains. I can´t comment much on the news since I don´t know much about economics or politics, other than to suggest that those of you who are not Icelandic speakers should keep your eyes on the Iceland Weather Report as a good source of updates, rather than on Iceland Review or IceNews which seem to me to be mainly aimed at keeping Iceland looking attractive as a tourist destination - which of course it is, and you get more for your foreign currency these days too.

My folks were just visiting and my Dad commented on how many Icelanders he had met this time and how many people spoke to him in Icelandic and were happy to let him try out his Icelandic. Perhaps the ratio of Icelanders to tourists is higher than usual, even though some say that there are more tourists here. Certainly, more locals are taking their holidays here instead of abroad. I´d say that the weather has improved everyone´s mood and perhaps folk are realising the attraction of the Icelandic nature which they have not appreciated for some time in their search for southern sun, beaches and cheap beer.

This summer we have enjoyed a camping trip to Strandir, blueberry picking already (all this sun has ripened the blueberries and crowberries far more than usual,... I´d say that they will be just perfect here in the south west in about 2 weeks, some 2-4 weeks ahead of usual) and barbecues on our balcony. I´ve also been to yoga classes with other women with bumps and taken a tour of the hospital with Óli.

So, this week is week 36 and there is perhaps only 1 month or so to go. Perhaps less, perhaps more. I´ve been washing baby clothes we have been kindly given and the cutest little knitted jumpers and booties my Mum arrived with in her suitcase. We are almost ready. Still no idea of a name, particularly for a girl but I suppose something will come to us. As an international family I had no idea how complex it would be to pick name(s) and to work out what might be best. For a start I feel I have to rule out all the Icelandic names that I can´t pronounce to the satisfaction of Icelandic ears, which doesn´t leave such a big choice!

Lulls in the reporting of the economic crisis and related scandals have been filled with speculation about the next eruptions of Katla and Hekla. Relatively small earthquakes around Eyjafjallajökull and in the Katla caldera have reminded folk of the linkages between the two volcanoes and that intrusions in Eyjfjallajökull might result in an eruption in Katla, its larger and more flamboyant neighbour. So far all is quiet. People are on semi-alert for the next eruption of Hekla and hikers have been asked not to venture onto the ridge. If you are thinking of going hiking of Hekla please don´t: the warning time of 30 minutes in the year 2000 was insufficient to allow people to make the 4 hour trek from summit to car and then to safety. Perhaps it was lucky that the last eruption was in bad weather in February, rather than on a glorious sunny summer day.

So far, no eruptions.. but maybe we should be considering Hekla or Katla as baby names. Not the nicest of characters.. Hekla has reminiscences of Hell and Katla was a bad tempered witch with a tendency to murder. Good strong names for a child nobody will mess with at school?

The other bump

2009-06-09T10:35:00.004+01:00

The bump somewhere around 26 weeks.. am now 28 weeks. Just before falling asleep she kicked so hard she gave both Ó and I a fright! Hehe. So, all well.

Things that go bump in the night!

2009-06-02T17:06:00.005+01:00

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

Or not..

Reykjanes earthquakes. Image from www.mbl.is, originally from www.vedur.is.

Reykjanes and the Reykjavík area got a good shaking this weekend. Our visitor, K, and I were just having a quite little natter and then this weird thundery feeling passed through the living room from one corner to the other .. and then again .. twice we were shaken and it was all very exciting. Óli, practising the fiddle in the other room and stomping around completely missed it! A day later we were all having a wee natter, a nice cup of tea and a sit down when we were treated to more of the same, though not travelling across the room this time. There is clearly something wrong with me because my instinct was to get all excited, check out www.vedur.is and see how big it had been and where the epicentre was, and think about whether it might mean an eruption could be on its way .. and Óli much more sensibly stood up and headed to the door.

So, of course, since then we´ve been waking in the night imaging rumblings and shudderings and saying "was that another earthquake?" and convincing ourselves that there were a bunch more of them during the few hours of darkness. Mostly though they must have been in our imagination - all wishful thinking.

So, it turns out there were a series of earthquakes near Grindavík, near The Blue Lagoon, ranging from very small up to 4.7 on the Richter Scale. They moved north-eastwards a bit with time and have now mostly died out. Curiously the first biggish one that we felt came a year to the day after the 6.2 South Iceland earthquake of May 2008 and on the day of an earthquake workshop held at the University. I imagine they had a great big Hammer-of-Eden-esque earthquake generator with them .. all the better for ensuring another year of research funding! Only joking dear colleagues. But, funny coincidence.

Nobody was killed, nobody was hurt, no buildings were damaged. So all okay. I imagine it was quite scary being in Grindavík where more of the earthquakes must have been felt and a power cut accompanied the largest event.

Along with shudders and shakes I am being kept awake by the dancing bump creature .. things that go bump in the night! Hurrumph. At least, this probably means all is well with baby-to-be.

Thankfully, there have been no sightings of ghoulies, ghosties or long-leggedy beasties.

And in other news...

2009-03-02T20:48:00.005Z

We´re going to have a baby.. at the end of August/start of September. We are both very happy about this news and can´t really imagine how much our lives are going to change but are hopeful that it will all be for the good. All is going well so far.

I feel quite far from friends and family in Scotland and farther afield but Óli and his family are looking after me well and being so lovely. I look forward to seeing folk in the UK in just a little over a month.

Cakes and soup until you burst - you have to, it's a tradition

2009-02-21T20:09:00.016Z

Dry ice and tropical birthday punch

Óli reached a big age this year .. 30.. he calls it a typo but I think it is true., Usually I forget that he is younger than me. I think it is because he is so much taller than I .. taller equals older. Grandad reached a little more than 3 times Óli's age also recently. He is also taller than me, though not three times taller. This reasoning linking height and age doesn't really work that well since most people, particularly in Iceland, are taller than me. My sub-conscious refuses this logic, however. I suppose I just don't want to grow up.

Anyway, they both celebrated with plentiful food I gather and were quite happy. Chocolate cake, berry shortcake, numerous puff pastry inventions, chicken, so much dry ice that the punch froze solid! I have decided that berry shortcake is the best cake ever since I tried my never-fail-fruit-cake last weekend and it, erm, failed .. well, I failed .. I forgot half the flour. I also tried a new chocolate and fruit cake recipe that was simply horrible. So berry shortcake was the first of 3 cakes that actually worked. It crumbled a bit and ended up in a dish but it still tasted good, even if I so say so myself. With my recent track record I don't care so much about whether it could hold it's own shape.

Berry shortcake

For the cake:
125/4oz butter
125g/4oz sugar
2 eggs
125g/4oz self-raising flour (no such thing in Iceland so: 125g plain flour, 1/3 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda and 1 teaspoon cream of tartar, found next to the spices in the shops and not next to the baking things)

Beat butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Or until arms ache too much or you get a headache from the electric whisk buzzing. Beat in eggs, one at a time. Fold in flour. Divide mixture between two 8 inch cake tins (will look like very little). Bake for 25 minutes at 180°C. Leave to cool completely before turning out, the recipe says, but this just meant that my shortcakes stuck to the non-stick cake tins and ended up as crumbled layers in a trifle bowl.

For the filling:
450g defrosted mixed berries (this is winter, I´m sure fresh berries macerated with sugar as original recipe suggests would be yummy too but finding blueberries and strawberries in Iceland in the winter that have flavour and aren´t mouldy is impossible and anyway I like the juiciness of frozen berries)
100-250 ml cream
icing sugar for dusting

Place one layer of shortcake on plate (or bowl if it fell apart). Cover with berries and then cream. Top with second shortcake layer. Dust with icing sugar. Leave to soak up some of the berry juice.

Adapted from Tom Norrington-Davies´ Strawberry Shortcake in his wonderful recipe book "Just like Mother used to make". Actually, most of these she didn´t - I don´t remember such British fare at home much really but that doesn´t matter .. I have some of Mum´s tasty recipes and this, my favourite recipe book, fills in any British childhood nostalgia gaps. I can almost see my continental friends shivering at my adoration of British cuisine. Ha!

To top of this past week of cakes and yummy food (and general disregarding of the kreppa), there was both Bolludagur and Sprengidagur. Unlike the UK which just has one feasting day (Pancake Day .. yum), Iceland makes up for the darkness and winteriness with two feasts until by Ash Wednesday you are clutching your stomach and actually looking forward to the strictures of Lent.

Bolludagur (Bun day) is a day of profiteroles .. giant profiteroles filled with cream and custard . and you can eat as many as you can manage. We started on Sunday, the day before Bolludagur just to make sure we could eat more than one or two. Óli's Mum invited us with his grandmother and great uncle to eat the lovely bollur she made .. I think I had four and she kept trying to make me eat more!

Vatnsdeigsbolla, image taken from here

Sprengidagur (or bursting day.. you eat until you burst) comes next .. on Shrove Tuesday .. with a soup made from split yellow peas, salted lamb, swedes, potatoes and carrots. It is so very tasty but half a bowl is enough to make you burst .. Óli disagrees . but then he did almost burst.. haha.

Saltkjót og baunir, image from here.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-31T15:25:00.005Z

Happy New Year to you all. Actually.. Happy Hallowe´en, Happy Yule, Happy Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Burns´Night etc.. It has been some time since I wrote here.

Much has gone on here in the last 6 months or so.. for us.. work and exciting new projects, trips to Geneva and to Paris, a ceilidh, a Burns Supper, a couple of friends have had babies, almost the entire family descended on Reykjavík for Christmas and New Year (we missed Sigga, Barbara, Jane and Grandad though)... and for Iceland so much has happened .. bank crises, employment crises, protests (very non-Icelandic but folk are gradually getting the hang of it), soaring debt for the country and individuals with terrifying mortgages and loans (either in foreign currency or in kronur but with the capital linked to inflation), and most recently a fall of one government and the rise (hopefully) of another with quite different ideas (hopefully) and an election I can´t vote in (but hopefully many more people than normal will vote) in just a few months. Anyway, I will not comment much on the politics / crisis since really I have no expertise in economics or politics and we are both lucky to still be in jobs and have no terrifying loans .. however, if you want to read more about these things, and the changes happening in Iceland, in English with intelligent discussion have a look at Alda´s wonderful Iceland Weather Report.

After a delightfully blunt reminder by Christmas card I have decided to make time again for some Letters from Iceland. I think that this is no longer a little adventure north that became a bit longer but more like tales from my second home. I still dream of heading back to Scotland (as snow covers everything here I am thinking of snowdrops in the garden at home, though I hear there has been plenty snow to go around back home too) or moving to another country again but, I think, at least while we still have our jobs, we´ll be here .. a bit longer anyway. Lets hope that kreppa (depression / recession) means that it is cheaper for you all to visit - and realise that despite what you may read on foreign news websites protests and "riots" in Iceland could pass for "carnivals" in other countries so there is absolutely no threat to tourists; no offense meant to the protesters of course, I think they´re doing a great job!

Southeast Iceland: Fog patches. Moderate or good.

2008-05-08T00:14:00.007Z

Attention All Shipping, by Charlie Connelly

Sometimes it is hard to fall asleep as the days get longer and brighter and you are tucked up in bed, the curtains drawn, the blackout blind pulled down and your head under the covers but yet the light still intrudes. I am joyously welcoming the spring but am already recalling that this change in seasons and increased light also means that the time for sleep is over and the time for all night wakefulness, parties if you can summon the energy and lying awake at 3am, not really feeling too tired, thinking about what to do tomorrow, what you did today, fond memories of the past or occasional regrets and what ifs, is here.

Last Friday in the pub I was reminded, as we Brits met around 10 at night, a good 3 hours prior to the downtown migration of the locals and the fully integrated, of what I had always thought of as a very British tradition. And now I feel it might have other uses. The Shipping Forecast.. for years I wondered why fog and showers were moderate to good. I always hated stepping out of the back door (where I am from the front door never was opened, it was just decorative) and getting soaked, and to this day I hate to get a wet face in cold northern rain.

Now as I remember and listen to the forecast on the internet (my link to BBC radio 4) I feel comforted, and even more comfortable when the conversation reveals that Iceland has it too .. or at least a coastal forecast.. Veðurfregnir. I always thought it was some British institution, even after reading "Attention All Shipping" - recommended. "Sitting at home listening to the shipping forecast can be a cosily reassuring experience. There's no danger of a westerly gale eight, veering southwesterly increasing nine later (visibility poor) gusting through your average suburban living room, blowing the Sunday papers all over the place and startling the cat." (Charlie Connelly). I don´t know why I stuck with that idea that it was British after all I am no great lover of all things British (though sausage and mash has grown on me since leaving home soil). I think it always sounded so quaint that it had to be as British as cream tea or eggs with soldiers (I bet someone comes along and tells me that is American) to a land-based creature like me.

Ó tells me that it is not as it used to be; it used to sound much more sad, and I wonder if this is true of the British Shipping Forecast. The again, perhaps it was being woken at 5am to go out to sea that put a melancholy twist to the tone of that beautiful, gently meditative poetry.

So now I think I might have found my cure for summer sleeplessness and resultant nostalgia. What could be more relaxing than falling asleep to the shipping forecast? I can´t use the Icelandic one.. it is a rare example of gently, slowly spoken Icelandic which I might stand a chance of understanding and it might keep me thinking. For now I´ll stick with North Utsire South Utsire, Dogger, Fisher and I´ll lend a thought to where I am falling asleep when they reach Viking. Maybe I should look for those old recordings, monotone would be even better for sleep. How many sailors drifted off before their sector was reached? Have a listen, aren´t they good, even if a little modernised and jaunty?

Southwest Iceland: West 1. Moderate. Occasional showers. Good. But still sleepy.

Já punktur ís

2008-05-06T22:27:00.004Z

Today I reached a level of acceptance about living in Iceland that I see as something of a turning point, or at least a recognition of reality. Not a decision to stay by any means, I hasten to add, not signing a lease or a mortgage for a flat bigger than the shoe box which some might consider to be a better sign of really deciding to stay (investing in that shaky thing, Icelandic property in 2008).

I finally reached a suitable level of Icelandic understanding to make my way through the online phone book and sign myself up to be included, findable, trackable, available for communication. I should soon be found on ja.is.

Another milestone today.. I arranged an appointment over the telephone entirely in Icelandic. It seems rather miserably small-scale but communicating, understanding and being understood have been issues which have separated me over the last few years from really feeling part of Iceland. I did have to ask for the date again.. I´d never heard of the 80th of May before. Still a little shaky on those numbers.

Feeling a little bit smug!

Sabbatical over, perhaps

2008-04-17T14:29:00.009Z

I thought I´d drop by and say hi and comment on the weather and the lengthening days in Iceland.

Snow showers and sun are alternating, toying with my optimism by offering the carrot of spring and then slapping me in the face with another unnecessary helping of sleet, snow or a howling gale to blow me off my not-wintery-enough shoe-clad feet. This second there is sunshine, blue skies and a dusting of snow on Esja.

Jóhann Ísberg´s photo of Esja looks similar to the view today.
Perhaps it will all change tomorrow.

I´ve been busy thinking about ceilidhs but just now we are searching for a drummer to allow us to continue getting up on stage and making a lot of noise for folk to dance to. If you play the drums and live in or near Reykjavík please get in touch.

On top of that I´ve been dreaming.. of books and book stores and sitting in continental cafés for hours alternately burrowing my head in a good novel, sipping a hot chocolate and watching the world go by. One day I will open a good book store where I would want to spend time. I will serve homemade fruit loaf and let people pick their own mint from a pot in the window to make their tea. I dream of folk gathering to knit of an evening in the cosy atmosphere or to talk about their latest books chosen from the theme of warm sunny countries in winter and long starry nights in the summer and exchanging reading rights to students for book reviews in Icelandic.

Recently, I read an interesting blog about a woman in Scotland setting up her own book shop, not far from Edinburgh (Inkspot and Silverleaf Booksellers). One of her recommended book stores is Shakespeare and Company, set on the left bank of the Seine, looking over to Notre Dame de Paris. This is a key indicator of her wonderful taste and hopefully bodes well for the future and atmosphere of her new shop. Shakespeare and Company is perhaps the best book shop in the world.

Shakespeare and Company, Paris

Meanwhile I am actually actively and busily employed on a variety of projects in geology: learning how to tame the technology of ArcGIS to make beautiful, useful and accurate hazard maps, which can be clever enough to lend a hand at analysis to give the pocket calculator and map pens a rest; collecting information for a database on all people and projects to do with marine geology around Iceland which is proving a fun way to meet new people here and is turning up a few gems of knowledge that apply to my other work and interests; modeling volcanic ash fall from the majestic volcano Hekla. Day in day out I sit at the beautiful wooden, carved desk that Sigurður Þórarinsson once sat at, studying the ash of Hekla and the great eruption of 1947 among many other things including penning a few lively folk songs and I hope some of his wisdom, breadth of knowledge and great motivation to publish will seep into my veins. I take heart from his song-writing times that mixing folk music, ceilidh dancing and geology can be good for the soul and general productivity.

Ceilidhs to warm us up, up here

2008-02-12T23:09:00.001Z

We played ..
Photo taken by Jonas Damulis

I´ve been gone for a while from here but thought I´d drop by. The ceilidh world in Iceland has become busy this month with Vetrahátið (winter festival) and various yearly festivals among companies trying to find something novel to do this year to cheer up their winter-weary employees.

Vetrahátið was primarily marked by .. snow, storms, crazy wind .. well, winter really, and a proper winter at that. Yippee.. there have been so many weeks of snow here that I have lost count. I need 4x4 to get the little jeep out of the car park by our house because it has been covered in ice for weeks. Maybe we should call it Fossvogsjökull. I think that could be an excellent address. Last weekend the winter decided to really kick in and be festive (for the festival). Big snow drifts piled up against the house and frost rimmed the doorways.. we had to break into our own home! The police even asked people to stay at home, quite something for a country where folk head out into the highlands in January in crazily big jeeps or where 25 metres per second is a mild breeze.

So, on the most wintry night of the winter we headed into town, against the advice of the police.. to our first big venue.. The Reel Thing played at NASA! Woohoo! And people danced!

..and they danced at NASA.
Photo by Jonas Damulis.

So, the next one is on Friday 22nd. If you´re in town come along, we´ll be just by the pond at Iðnó, at the gap in the ice where the ducks and swans and geese are hoping for another bit of bread. Poor things. You can walk right across the pond just now. I want to go skating but maybe I´d need a small snowplow in front.

Hopefully I´ll drop by here again at the weekend with some snow pictures before it all melts, once I´ve got all the Dashing White Sergeants and Gay Gordons from spinning around my head.

Gleðileg jól - snow, fire and excitement

2007-12-29T19:40:00.000Z

Norðfjörður

Happy Christmas everyone. Gleðileg jól.

We are in Neskaupstaður which is a town set in a deep fjörd (Norðfjörður) on the east coast of Iceland. I´ve been here once before, in February last year for a trip to the neighbouring uninhabited Viðfjörður. Then it was warm enough, rather strangely, to be outside comfortably in short sleeves. Now, returning in December for Christmas and New Year to spend time with Óli´s brother and family there is ice and snow. Ice coated the road all the way to Kirkjubærklaustur, around a third of the way from Reykjavík to the east then as we drove along the coast passed Jökulsálón we felt as if we were driving through the night, the longest night of the year. Even in the pitch black of 4pm the ice-choked lagoon sparkled beautifully with blues and greys and the odd bright shimmering fairy-light on the icebergs as the full moon reflected off the glistening surfaces.

A walk in the snow

Now we´ve been here for almost a week. Snow fell on the 23rd to give us a white Christmas and like last year we opened our parcels after dinner on Christmas Eve, still making me feeling rather naughty breaking the childhood rule of not opening any presents until Christmas Day. This year, being with Icelandic and South African family the house was swarming with supernatural beings. Jólasveinarnir dropped by at night to leave presents in shoes for good boys and bigger parcels on the 24th and then on the night of the 24th or early morning of the 25th Santa made it to Iceland, flying down into the deep valley, thankfully missing the cold sea water and not slipping too badly on the ice to leave more presents beneath the tree and fill Christmas stockings. Then, K lost his first baby tooth and the tooth fairy left something under his pillow on the night of the 25th.

Where the tooth fairy lives

Today is the 29th and things are calming down. The best toys have been selected (torches and protective eye glasses meant for fireworks), the excitement is diminishing and the house has been spirit and sprite free for a few evenings running now. However, New Year nears and Óli and I have been helping setting up the fireworks display. Of course everyone will set fireworks off and the town will be wreathed in smoke but before midnight, from the sneak preview of the size of the fireworks being laid out and placed into massive barrels, I expect there will be a pretty good show from S and co. Fingers crossed that my fuses don´t fail.

Big bomb, happy boy

It is good to be out of Reykjavík and to see the snow-clad hills all around. I will however, be quite glad to be rid of the supernatural visits for a year! You would too if they were stealing things from the fridge and sniffing around doors, worrying the sheep and licking your pots and pans!

Approaching Yule

2007-12-16T08:29:00.000Z

It is 8.30am on a Sunday and I am uncharacteristically awake due to Óli´s shift patterns just now. It is quiet and still feels like night (it will be dark until around 11am and then get dark again around 2-3pm) so once I´ve had my dose of tea for the morning it is quite possible to con myself into thinking that it is night and my night-owl can spring into action and start writing. Of course, the papers of "geomorphology of a glacial foreland" and "sedimentology of jökulhlaups" lay untouched .. perhaps a little too early and not enough tea for those. However, while they eat away at my conscience, I can finally find some time to write here for a change.

Mulled wine

Christmas is just 8/9 days away depending on which celebrations you opt for.. 24th in Iceland, 25th back home. I try to get both in, being greedy and wanting two Christmases a year. So, today there is little to do other than prepare and go Christmas shopping and really what else can one do when there is snow outside and the shops have candles lit outside their doors and the cookies and mince pies are all ready, the cake is being fed with brandy and we´ve already had our British Christmas dinner. We started early with a small party in the second week in January and ate turkey and trimmings and drank mulled wine into the night.

It was a good celebration of the end of a very hectic time. Ceilidh classes and the ceilidh night had filled up so much time but I am so glad to say that it was a great success. The band were brilliant, giving up their time for free to play because of a love for this lively, jumpy, toe-tapping music. 60 people came and actually our biggest problem was that the room was too small. So we are now dreaming of holding it in Iðno.. a real stage, a big dance floor and beautiful decorations .. no scruffy edge of the world stuff next time. However, we´re not sure if we have enough spare limbs to afford that. Still, the first mini ceilidh was held in a warehouse with stage props, dust and old, unwashed cups scattering the dark corners, in an out of the way place between the oil tanks for the ships and a building site. The next place was an old wartime-inspired nissan hut by the thermal beach, a bit easier to find but building works over the winter meant you had to navigate the mud-bath, the swamp and search in the dark for a road which bore little resemblance to a road, even in Iceland.. Both excellent for their purpose and within our budget but I´d say we can only move up in the world.

I am dreaming of a resurrection of folk dance enthusiasm here .. though lets not call it folk dance please. I am searching for some other phrase - ceilidh is doing for now.. though it means nothing to most people. Any suggestions are most welcome. The phrases in use with other groups are folk dance or old dances.. neither of which seems to capture the lively nature of the thing! I also hope this can involve all ages and be something to help bring Icelanders and foreigners together more .. so far we´re doing fairly well with Scots, English, Norwegians, Icelanders, Slovaks, Russians, French, Mexicans, Swiss, Danes, Germans, Finns, Swedes.. and probably more, trying this thing out.

On holiday in Spain, wearing bellydance silk to a restaurant!

Bellydance sparkles - Margrét - picture from balletstelpur

Meanwhile I´ve been dancing belly dance and spend time peering around the stage wings being awe-inspired by the sparkly costumes of the other dancers at Kramhúsið´s Christmas show and I´ve been battling technology as the computer, the car and software at work refuse to behave. Many are helping to try to persuade them that the holidays are not yet here (thanks Óli, Egill and Anil). However, maybe these well-used and tired technological creatures are justified. The weather has been crazy with storms ripping the roofs of houses, tipping over lorries and requiring the radio stations to announce that people shouldn´t go out unless necessary and that children should be kept home from school. Seems strange for the capital area. Or maybe the car and computer have been struck by the Christmas holiday spirit and are on strike until after New Year .. or out shopping along with the rest of the country. Perhaps they are in a bookshop stuck in a queue as the whole nation tries to buy those essential expensive hardbacks with big glossy photos or the latest novels and poems by their neighbours!

Anyway.. I have things to do.. Christmas markets to visit and hot chocolate to drink.., oh yes and glacial forelands to be writing about.

Midnight love notes

2007-11-27T00:49:00.000Z

Ceilidh in Reykjavík!
December 6th 20:00 - Live music "The Reel Thing" - 500kr.
www.skoskurdans.org

It has been a busy few weeks recently with preparations for our ceilidh on the 6th December and with thoughts turning to Christmas! Tonight I sat up late with Óli and K sorting out just what a ceilidh band should play at a ceilidh .. when, for how long, . and what to do when all turns to chaos on the dance floor. It was a most productive evening.. fueled by tea and disappointingly soft fruit shortcake biscuits (note: do not store fruit shortcakes and fig rolls together).

A love note from a mug, actually by no mug, maker of lovely mugs and teapots, Emma Bridgewater.

This is the catch in my evening.. now it is tomorrow and I am still awake, randomly looking at news and trying to get Christmas present ideas from the internet. A troublesome business which really is fairly useless but passes the time and solves any small cravings for actually going shopping which is dangerously expensive here. However, I find presents are probably more suitably chosen when you think more about the person than randomly looking in every shop window, dragging yourself along the high street jostling with other rather panicked shoppers .. or trawling through gadget and gift websites full of neon flashing things and wind up plastic old people with fighting ways..

Someone else I read about has the same sleeping problem as me in Patreksfjörður in north-west Iceland, but has found a lovelier way of spending time. Sneaking out at the dead of night he or she (or it) creeps into people´s gardens and lurks around their cars, their garden fences and the lamp-posts outside their houses. Then.. unseen and unheard they leave a message, a neatly plastic-wrapped note of love for their chosen to find in the morning. Not just one, one dear to heart, secret lover this.. this person leaves notes all over town .. a bringer of happiness and gladness to the dark winter mornings. Sounds to me like a lovely winter story plot come true.

Dream Angus

A few weeks ago a read a lovely, quite curiously strange book by Alexander McCall Smith called Dream Angus. It is quite unlike his Number 1 Ladies Detective series or the Philosophers Club books. More beautiful, more subtle. A semi-mythical character who leaves dreams for you and makes you fall in love, who makes the world better by solving your problems at night.

May you be visited by night-time fairies and imps to brighten the next day. Much better than what we´ve got coming .. Icelandic yule lads who raid the fridge, lick the dirty dishes and terrorise the sheep.. but more on that another time.

First days of winter

2007-10-29T17:09:00.000Z

Saturday was the official first day of winter... and sometime during the evening I poked my head out through the curtains and the world had turned white with big, soggy flakes of snow falling. It has been snowing almost continually since and the hedge outside my living room window is encrusted with snow, with leaves that look like sugar-coated sweeties and reminding me of Christmas cards.

Kjótsúpa .. picture from Morgunblaðið

Free Icelandic meat soup was given away in the streets on Saturday and African dancers took to the streets with cool drum rhythms. Tonight I go back to bellydance class. Time to get back to hobbies that remind us of warmer climes.

Sheep in the fold

2007-09-18T20:04:00.001Z

Last Friday we went away for the weekend to get peace and quiet, to read and to sleep. We set off too late of course, after work on Friday, met with a friend in Akranes en route and I tried her yummy chicken and rice soup.

By the time we were heading into the country, leaving Borganes and its two greasy burger joints behind it was really really dark. I was surprised. Not so long ago it was almost 24 hours of daylight.. then I sat with a friend in a hot tub at 2am and watched the faint brush of the northern lights in the dusky sky .. and then suddenly it is dark at 8pm. Okay, maybe it was more like 10. Anyway, this must mean I´ve spent too long inside and I feel like despite a glorious summer with wonder continental weather I have let the summer slip by.

Hestfjall in Borgarfjörður, picture taken by Halldór Eiríksson

I am glad now though of the change in season. It all happened on Friday with the darkness. We drove and drove, skipped the turning for the fisherman´s huts, passed the summer houses and between the cliffs, round the bend and down the hill .. then passed the big rock by the road (sure home of elves), goat rock and up the hill through a flock of sheep all eyes gleaming evilly in the headlights, up the hill and into the darkness away from all the lights. We began to wonder if we missed the cottage that we were told we couldn´t miss.

Then, two small lights appeared in the distance and the narrowest road bridge I´ve ever come across with a two tonne limit.. how heavy is the car? Less than one ton surely but when you add in the rucksacks, the tins of beans, bottle of whisky and us.. I chickened out and reversed in to the path of a van (but not quite) racing up the hill, so feeling like stupid tourists we thought we´d ask directions. Well, not a lot of help .. in that there was pretty much nothing further on in terms of warm cosy cottages.. but I am still wondering what a guy travelling alone with a suitcase in the middle of the night was doing driving into the wilderness. Óli assures me that the suitcase was too small for a body. Is the habit of exiling people to the hills still in existence here?

Well, we turned back.. passed the dark lake we´d missed on the way up, passed goat rock, the elf house rock, the freaky-eyed sheep, the cliffs, the summer houses and back to the main road. So we´d missed it again. We turned back. This continued for some time.

Once found the cottage was unmissable, inviting even in darkness and cold and a most thoroughly welcome shelter from the wind that was gathering. And it blew, and it blew and it blew all night, through the morning, the afternoon, the evening and the next night .. and when we drew the curtains on the next morning there was snow on the mountains and a bite to the air and winter was there. Perhaps the man with the suitcase was somehow responsible.

The farmers on horseback spotted the weather change before us and went to get the sheep (maybe the suitcase man was delivering whisky to farmers rounding sheep up in the hills?) and as we left they brought at least 300 sheep, white, black, muddy and fluffy, small and scruffy down the hills, along the road, passed the narrow bridge (not more than 2 tonnes of sheep at once), along the shore of the dark lake, alongside goat rock and all around the elf house, up the hill, passed the summer houses, through the cliffs and into the fields of home.

On Sunday night we settled back in to our little flat in town and thought of the party being had to celebrate the round up in the country and we shared a whisky in celebration of the start of winter and the coming of the snow.

Ceilidh classes resuming

2007-09-10T19:28:00.000Z

Come and try this out on Thursday at Flugröst,
email scottishdance@gmail.com if you would like more information.

Storm

2007-09-03T22:39:00.000Z

Storm rising by Pamela Theodotou

A storm is coming. The shadows of the trees are battering the windows. It feels like winter, and there is a chill sliding in through the window and covering the bed with an icy blanket. I am sat wrapped up in wool with a fluffy pillow under my arm as I type, cheerful colours about me. The shadows are on the edge of my vision and are waiting for me to go to bed.

19:00, 3rd September 2007

It seems a night for mysterious things to be about out there. I am reminded of the elf houses we saw this summer in Hellisandur. And one elf there perhaps..

IL at Gúfuskáli, Hellisandur

Busy August

2007-09-02T18:11:00.000Z

Holtasóley (Dryas octopetala), the national flower of Iceland

August has gone quickly. I have a big backlog of things to do that I imagined I´d do tomorrow and tomorrow somehow slipped by. I´ve been west and north and south .. and might go east within the next month. I´ve been to four volcanoes and passed by numerous others. No activity.. nothing .. no explosions or mild sizzles at all.. shame. Kind of. I did though see some holes in the ground made by the June 17th and 2oth earthquakes in 2000 ..

Fracture from the June 2000 earthquakes, magnitude 6.5

and walked on a recent lava flow from Krafla (1980s) which felt and sounded a bit like walking on the crispy caramel of a creme brulee.. exactly the same crunchy noise as you make when you crash through the caramel with your spoon. I crashed through the top of the lava flow.. All the while I kept wondering why there was so much traffic, as the roar of the jet-engine boreholes at the power station crept into my thoughts.

Krafla

I saw the drilling rig for a borehole in a new geothermal power area, where they have just announced that there will be a power station built to fuel another new aluminium smelter if they find enough steam. The town major there says there are no reasons not to go ahead with the plan. I suppose he won´t work there. Imagine working in an aluminium smelter the next time there is a major earthquake there. It was strange mix that place.. green grass and grazing sheep, hot springs and bubbling grey-blue mud.. the mix of smells of sulphur and grass under your feet, and then the drill rig.

I took a dip in Víti at Askja .. "Hell" .. kind of felt like Hell might be close to freezing over. But then we did walk through a mini blizzard to reach the blue-green tinted crater and slid down a mud bank to reach the water. It wasn´t Askja´s most sunny day.

Went for a walk and looked back on a tuff cone in the evening light:

Hverfjall from Dimmuborgir

And what seems months away now, on Menningarnótt, we taught 40 people to dance the Victoria Reel in Ingolfstorg, the square in Reykjavík city centre, and made a few newspapers and first mention on that night´s 7pm news. Classes will start in the next few weeks .. let me know if you want to come.. will be emailing with news and posting notices soon.

North

2007-08-25T00:14:00.000Z

Jökulsá á fjöllum

Mývatn

Landmannalaugur and Landmannaleið piccies

2007-08-02T15:50:00.001Z

Ceilidh Culture on Iceland´s Culture Night

2007-07-30T21:55:00.000Z

This year if you are in Reykjavík on the 18th of August, Reykjavík´s Culture Night, come along to Ingólfstorg in the centre of town to dance. There will be dances from all parts of the world.. including ceilidh.There will be two ceilidh classes taught by Óli and I during the day:

14.30 - 15.00 "Orcadian Strip the Willow" - perfect for families. Children love to spin. I used to make myself sick and dizzy regularly spinning around in the middle of the kitchen as a child.

20.00 - 20.45 "The Dashing White Sergeant" - to kick start your evening and warm you up for the night.

Everyone welcome. No partner required. No experience necessary. Even dance-haters will smile! Really!

For more information about Menningarnótt / Culture Night see the Reykjavík city´s website
and for more about ceilidh dancing in Reykjavík see the class website, Ceilidh in Reykjavík!

Jeeps, romance and the yearly bath

2007-07-24T15:18:00.000Z

En route to Landmannalaugur

Last week I decided it was time for the yearly bath of my little Ssangyong Korando jeep, named "Koriander". It was time, I felt, since I could no longer see the colour of the car. I hope Óli´s Dad approves since he has diligently pointed out that my little jeep is not a Landrover and needs a little more care and attention, and doesn´t look so good all bashed up. Next comes a whole long list of small fixes that are needed and then .. I want a snorkel. Korandos are pretty fine off road; they have a short wheel base and, with 31" tyres, fine ground clearance, but they have air intakes in a ridiculous location, just behind the front bumper. Who wants a jeep in Iceland if you can´t drive through a river in it? Well .. you can.. .. with the aid of a plastic survival bag, some sticky tape and a heavy accelerator foot..

Post-wading picture of Kate, pre-wading picture of Koriander.
Picture taken by Claire Robertson, summer 2006.

.. but the engine- and nerve-destroying potential is too high. Anyone know of a good person to adapt a 4x4 in Iceland, someone that can take some odd bits of drainpipe and make a waterproof snorkel?

So, you may be thinking.. why is a girl interested in tyre sizes and snorkels. Well, firstly my enthusiasm for jeeps might come from my Dad .. see here, and here.. and here, below:

My Dad with his Landrover, Seipnir II, prior to big-wheel modifications.

I have always, I think, liked big cars, dating back to trips in tractors and lorry-spotting on long distance car trips. I always thought it would be cool to be a lorry driver but never quite made it. I was reminded again recently about how cool trucks are as I goggled at the beautiful lines of the North American trucks.

The knowledge about tyre sizes is infectious in this country. When asked about your car the second question is always what size tyres.. not about fuel efficiency. Men might ask the size of the engine or the make first, girls might ask about the colour.. now that I´ve washed it I should be able to check.

Many many people drive around Reykjavík in monster jeeps with 38" or more tyres that never leave town, a bit like a souped up version of the school run jeep. They are good on glaciers though and in snow but in town you NEVER need them. If a little car breaks down in the winter in front of you in town you might be able to drive around them but not over .. for that you need caterpillar tracks. And don´t get me started on studded tyres.. (road-chewing-up, dust-creating outmoded abominations..)

North of Mýrdalsjökull, November 2005, picture taken by Erik Sturkell

Flo the Landrover, coming out of Tröllagjá, north of Þórsmörk, Summer 2005.

However, Iceland´s roads are not that modern and if you want to go somewhere really beautiful or interesting it is often best to have a jeep to tackle the cobbles, boulders, steep inclines and rivers. I like Þórsmörk, but am not taking my little Korando across those rivers by the plastic bag method. Not even if I want to be romantic.. like a Swiss guy recently who proposed to his girlfriend in the river Krossá while they were trying to escape their flooded rental car. She agreed once rescued. Krossá in Þórsmörk, is a big river, fast flowing and not suitable for anything other than big jeeps. Please don´t try it. Take the foot bridge together and visit one of the caves in the hills between Húsadalur and Langidalur, walk hand in hand along one of the prettiest woodland paths in the country or try out the sauna or new hot tub at Húsadalur.

Well, so I washed the car .. and then we took a 15 hour day trip to Landmannalaugur and Hrafntinnasker.. to look at freakily coloured mountains and lava flows that sparkle in the sun. Some photos arriving shortly.

Spoke too soon

2007-07-19T11:41:00.001Z

The sun has gone and we have drizzle and haar or Scotch mist .. or Icelandic normal summer weather. It is a relief, in a way, to know that the world has not gone mad and swapped the norms of life around too much. The air smells clean and fresh with grass and flowers. The school children outside tending the gardens around the University are not impressed and walk like zombies in their green rubber outfits. I feel sorry for them, and slightly less than amused that today was to be my first day of fieldwork this month.

A strange bright light in the sky

2007-07-17T17:32:00.000Z

My family have been visiting us in Iceland. We live in a matchbox so they have been moving around, staying in my bed while Óli was away in Denmark teaching Strip the Willow to Icelanders and Danes, being looked after by Óli´s folks in Kópavogur and now with my sister trying out the Hotel Cabin.. each with a cabin sized room.

The weather has been glorious, we´ve sat outside most days to eat, my sister can´t sleep because of the light and we gave up trying to sleep through the bright nights and finally bought some blackout curtains. It took some time to find some without blue trains or pink fairies but I made it in the end once the sales assistant realised I meant they were for me, a funny foreigner who wants to cut out that light and sleep through the night rather than party in the 24 hour daylight.

There is something strange going on in Iceland. We´ve had sun .. real, warm sun, sit in your smallest little summer dress type sun, get pink shoulders and a silly pink tip to your nose type sun.. for weeks and weeks. I don´t want it to go away. It is of course now too hot to sit inside our matchbox house with no ventilation but we are living in the garden, which I like.

Irish days

2007-07-17T16:55:00.000Z

Irish days in Akranes are celebrated every year now with music, games and competitions. Irish days in Iceland? Akranes, just a little north of Reykjavík and reached through the long tunnel beneath Hvalfjörður (whale fjörd) was founded by two Irish brothers. So for the last few years all things Irish have been celebrated at the start of July in this little coastal Icelandic town.

This year, on the Friday afternoon and on the Saturday night I joined a Scottish friend and her friends for a spot of music and song. I really enjoyed it. The girls were so much fun and so talented and three guys joined us .. two Icelanders on banjo and Ukulele and a Quebecois fiddle player. I hope to go next year too.

Photos taken by Sylviane Lebon

First steps in North America

2007-07-09T02:43:00.000Z

I am back in Iceland now. It is a true summer here with temperatures almost reaching 20 C and blue skies for the last week. I have worn my newly acquired summer dress bought to survive Montreal temperatures and I have sat by the beach and watched the warm waters from Öskjuhlíð trickle into Nauthólsvík making a small sun, sea and pale sand oasis along these normally dark, chilly northern shores.

Nauthólsvík sand castle, made September 2006.
The sand is just a touch too shelly for great architectural feats.

I have returned also with lots of thoughts and ideas stemming from my trip to North America. I had expected something rather different. I was nervous of those big cities I planned to visit. I thought I might get lost or maybe I´d feel in danger walking through streets alone. I certainly didn´t expect to feel at home.

At home in a bookshop on Commercial Drive, Vancouver

The best things .. I didn´t feel like a foreigner, particularly in Montreal; seeing chipmunks and blue jays; talking to people I´d heard about and finding that they are really decent people; feeling the sun on my skin and watching the world go by from the shade of a tree or a balcony with a book in my hand; looking an old friend in the eyes. The worst things .. wearing woollen trousers at 30 degrees C; trying to be a tourist and see the highlights of Vancouver in one day; trying to stay in touch with home with a 7 hour time difference.

Mt. Rainier snowman, mid June.

Some spell has been cast over me that has opened my eyes to what I like about different lifestyles. It is nice to have clarity and a different perspective. The life of a city, the bustle, the freedom of not needing a car and the friendliness of strangers. I don´t know if this can be achieved in Iceland. Outside a 10 minute walking zone of the centre of Reykjavík you are in the suburbs already because it is a city serving a pretty small population, and is definitely car-dominated. No corner shops, no high frequency public transport. No general openness to strangers. In general it can take time to feel the friendliness of Icelanders though it is there, just gradually revealed and true and long-lasting once found.

I am also re-inspired about work. I met some interesting people and saw some interesting sand and gravel! Avalanches deposits and mud flows. It is funny that sediment can create such enthusiasm in me but since it does I take this to assume I´m not in the wrong field of work. Nice news.

Osceola mudflow deposits.. and trees. A massive mid-Holocene lahar. Much more about the Osceola mudflow on the US Geological Survey site.

So, last week I started something new at work. I start working with others more, I start thinking about a project that is less specific than jökulhlaups / glacier floods. I start writing again.

Mount St. Helens

2007-07-09T02:01:00.001Z

This picture of the crater at Mt. St. Helens was taken in mid June this year and shows the base of the newest dome and it is just possible to make out the snouts of two glacial tongues to either side of the dome. The cloud base is just sitting at the elevation of this newest activity. The foreground shows rock avalanche and lahar deposits from the 1980 eruption, dissected by later streams and lahars. The little chipmunk below (can you see him?) is sitting on a tree knocked down in the blast from 1980. Much of the area has been reforested all around here after incredibly intensive replanting of commercial forestry areas (by hand!) and these trees, only 27 years later, are many metres tall.

Mount Rainier.. birds and folk

2007-07-07T02:13:00.001Z

Vancouver piccies

2007-07-07T01:58:00.001Z

Mount Rainier

2007-06-27T08:59:00.001Z

Vancouver and the Cascades

2007-06-22T15:36:00.001Z

Snapshots

2007-06-18T03:32:00.000Z

I´ve tried to avoid the tourist stuff.. it does little for me. I have had a lovely time in Montréal, reading my book, enjoying the sunshine and the parks, taking shelter from the heat of the sun in cafes and shops. I´d like to stay longer. I even feel like I made some friends.

Cafe life..

Tourist wanderings

The best bits .. the green bits next to the multiple coloured houses.

Montreal colour

2007-06-15T23:09:00.000Z

I am sat in a rocking chair by the window listening to reels and jigs played on a fiddle wafting from across the street, the music dancing through the leaves of the trees and landing softly on the windowsill beside me.

It has been a warm day, okay, rephrase that .. very hot .. my head hurt from forgetting to drink enough and not been covered up. It is still warm at 7pm-ish, warmer than it ever gets in Iceland. I have wandered, in and out of streets, shops, cafes, watched salsa dancers dancing in the street and sat in the park under the shade of a big maple where the ground was cool and the grass fresh-smelling.

It has been a day of green tea. I started the day by ruining my first cup by automatically, sleepily putting milk in first.. then the second cup was better and accompanied by interesting conversation from E my host about immigration and multiculturalism. She is a port in a storm or in a lost at sea feeling anyway for Brazilians visiting or moving to Montreal which I think is such an excellent purpose for a guesthouse. A home from home really, and a lovely one at that. I'm not sure how intelligent it is possible to be at breakfast for me .. but I was awake from 5am thinking I had slept in (slept out) in Iceland! Cups two, three, four, five, six and probably also seven were served with delicate tea service and beautiful wooden implements, a clay teapot and the tiniest little cups.. hence the number. I am waiting to meeting a Montrealler from Montreal .. so far everyone is at least one generation or less away from being an immigrant.. it is fascinating. An Iranian-Canadian geography masters graduate drove the taxi from the airport to my guesthouse, the lady who runs Chez Brasil where I am staying is a psychologist from Brazil (obviously) and the Taiwanese tea fan who treated me to tea and Taiwanese shortbread (really) was a Scottish Canadian.

I am relaxing now listening to Irish fiddle music, snacking on cherries and black olive bread and feeling very comfortable and happy. Maybe after two years of being different it is nice to be somewhere where everyone is so different. I do believe it is easy to fall in love with Montreal. Still, I know at night I will lie in bed, sniff the city air, and hear the buzz of night here and remember my Icelandic home with a gentle, fond thought.

For tango lovers everywhere

2007-06-12T12:35:00.001Z

Sisilly has made the most beautiful, stylish pack of notecards and t-shirts with her uplifting sketches. They remind me of winter nights in Cafe Cultura with beautiful M and many friendly people and candlelit elegant dances .. and tangoing in obscure places .. which I like best.

Heart in flight

2007-06-11T09:08:00.001Z

Spot the heart.. it escaped in the wind and soared across the bay towards the summit of Snæfellsjökull, for once clear and magestic. I am up passed my ears in photos and diagrams in preparation for presenting my research in Canada next week. I came across this en route through the folders, piles of papers and notebooks covered in muddy smears.

Note to hint droppers!

2007-06-11T08:47:00.001Z

The Iceland Weather Report (thoughts, observations and a look out the window to note cloud patterns) says:

"She and her boyfriend finally tied the knot after living together for about ten years and producing three gorgeous children. This tends to be the Nicelandic way ... first move in together, then get pregnant [or vice-versa] and if things are still OK, then get married. Kinda like EPI and YT, who got hitched last year after a ten-year courtship. It's a fairly sensible length of time - by then you generally know if the proverbial toilet seat is going to drive you to distraction, or not. And if you're going to stay madly in love for the rest of your life, or not."

On hearing of a British couple enlisting a small niece as a flower girl and a friends' cute little boy in top hat and tails as paige boy, Ó and B were horrified .. it spoils things if the little cute children are not the children of the happy couple!

10,000 more clinical psychologists in UK?

2007-06-10T16:12:00.000Z

I sit listening BBC radio over the internet, particularly Woman's Hour, when I am doing some repetitive task at work, washing the dishes or when the flat is too quiet without fiddle rehearsals of frantic reels and jigs. Usually it is a wonderful mix of ladies making jam and cakes for the village fair, intensely earnest discussions of women´s rights and blushing discussions of gynaecology and sexual technique! It blends up-beat recipes for sticky toffee pudding with perhaps a little too much negative news about the state of the world and male dominance in business.

Sad?

Today, I heard on trusty Radio 4 that there is a suggestion that clinical psychology centres for "talking therapies" may be opened across the UK, up to 125 centres, and 10,000 more clinical psychologists will be trained over the next 7 years. The decision will be made in October. This is interesting to me.. that cognitive behavioural therapy might become a mainstream approach to depression and many other psychological problems. Where on earth will the 10,000 psychologists come from?

Fallacies of thought

I wonder how this "talking therapy" could help people in Britain, and how it could change the UK. There is something more personal about life in Iceland where you can really focus on getting the best from life. A friend of mine recently who is also a foreigner here said that Iceland acts life a magnifying glass on his life and feelings .. when things are good they are really really good and when things are bad they are horrid! I think this is true .. but I´d add that it is possible to swing more quickly between these two states, that is more possible to get help out of those dark times and that particularly in the winter there is widespread, nationwide recognition that life is a little harder, more subdued and sometimes more sad in the darkness and it is easier to talk about it, easier to reach out a hand and help and to accept the hand of help.

The helping hand even drops by in unsuspected ways. In my first summer here I was living in a small flat about my landlord and landlady. I was homesick and sad being away from friends and was thinking of going back to Scotland. My landlord at that time started being woken around 3am by someone knocking at the door to his flat. Nobody apart from me and his wife could be knocking and his wife was asleep in bed. I knew nothing of it until later in the week. Each night he got up and went to the door but opened it to find nobody was there. He wasn´t scared, just puzzled, particularly since it occurred for a few nights in a row. Eventually he asked a friend who was in touch with spiritual issues about it and she told him it was me .. although I was sound asleep .. something, someone or some thought was alerting him to my distress. He promptly invited me to dinner and discussed meditation with me and I decided to stay!

There can be a fear of psychological problems, depression and sadness. The UK seems to thrive on shame of this.. on shame in general .. to distribute it widely.. single mothers, mental health problems .. I am so glad that shame is less popular here! Why is that?

I also wonder if the lifestyle in western Europe, particularly the UK is the problem? Is life so stressful and depression so prevalent all over the world? I love the idea of slow living, developed particularly in Italy along with the slow food phenomenon.. taking time to enjoy things, access good quality produce and skills from local sources rather than from the other side of the world, supporting small, local and creative businesses. But can we live in a slow way in the modern western world and still be able to earn enough to survive? To pay those high mortgage and rental prices? Wow, the property prices in Reykjavík are mad! Maybe the idea of slow living sounds lazy but isn´t it worth taking time to enjoy life?

Well, for those interested, the radio program I heard was called "All in the Mind". A good book that is not too glib and shallow is David Burns´"Feeling Good". If you look at the website, try to ignore the polished smiling face .. read the book instead. More on the slow movement is to be found in an article by the BBC, the slow food movement site and also Carl Honoré´s excellent, though sometimes repetitive book "The Art of Slow" and his website and blog.

First wings

2007-06-08T18:28:00.000Z

Óli learning to paraglide .. day 1: ground handling.

Bellydancing dreams .. or a little girl in a sweetie shop

2007-06-05T01:16:00.001Z

Wind

2007-06-05T00:11:00.000Z

There has been sunshine for weeks. Blue skies. I even got a pink nose one day doing fieldwork in Þingvellir.. which means it is summer. Yesterday things changed... which means it is Iceland.

The wind started to whistle through the ventilator in the bathroom and our open windows created a pressure difference between the flat and the hallway which sucks the door shut behind you if you step out for a minute. That is pretty spooky. The door to the cleaning room in the communal area bangs as if a little child is playing in there. The blinds are rattling and I can hear the trees swirling around. Still the wind is warm. It is ten degrees C outside, raining and there is an 10 metres per second wind (22.4 miles per hour). It is also almost 00.30 and you can still the weather on the webcam from Veðurstofnun.

Although the house makes spooky sounds I find it rather friendly. It reminds me of lying in bed in the wood-clad bedroom I shared with my sister and hearing the little window rattling in the wind. The swirling trees outside sound bigger than they are and that is nice .. it is like being back home with proper big trees in motion. The odd sucking of the door also reminds me of home and opening the curtains one morning after a storm to find that the wind had taken the slates off the roof of the little byre and stacked them neatly at the foot of the wall.

The weather change is maybe because we are thinking about wind in the flat and Óli particularly has been dreaming of soaring on thermals. We both started paragliding classes today. It will be weeks probably before we even get the wing to sit above our heads and perhaps take a little foot-high hop off the ground, but it is step one. Unfortunately you can´t paraglide when the wind is more than 5 metres per second (11.2 miles per hour) or when there is rain.. so I wonder how often we´ll fly in Iceland?!

Some other useful info on the Icelandic weather situation:
Veðurstofnun´s nice new webpage,
BBC´s 5-day forecast for Reykjavík which is more reliable than Morgunblaðið´s veðurkort
and .. my favourite .. Do I need a jacket.. in Egilsstaðir.. I wonder how often the answer is "Yes".

All colours .. ert þú þessi Erlendur?

2007-06-03T00:57:00.000Z

The International Women´s Rainbow Choir

Bellydancers from Kramhúsið - "Shams el amar": Fífí, Margrét and Solheir

Ghanan dance, picture from Morgunblaðið

This is a weekend of festivals .. the festival of the sea for sailor´s day at all ports, particularly in Reykjavík, bright days festival in Hafnarfjörður and today the Festival of Nations or Þjóðahátið in Hafnarfjörður, with participants from more than 40 countries. We Scots were there and had a popular stall .. we were giving away samples of whisky, fruit cake and cups of tea .. sang some Scottish songs and we went for a record breaking attempt at the longest strip the willow in Iceland .. 24 brave participants from Ghana, Germany, England, Japan, Iceland, Scotland, Hungary and Bulgaria .. perhaps more .. joined in and span and span and span across the hall. Pretty amazing for a two minute lesson beforehand and we are fairly sure that this may be the longest Orcadian Strip the Willow in Iceland so far and most certainly must be the most international Strip the Willow in Iceland! Next year we´ll aim for even more. Congratulations and thank you to all who joined in!

Whisky sampling!

The best bit for me was seeing people and pictures from countries I knew nothing about - Bulgaria, Lithuania and Ghana particularly. And wow, Ghanans really love shortbread! The dancing was also so fun .. so many types of bellydancing, beautiful elegant Thai dancing and Carlos´ infectious high-spirited salsa. So much colour .. proud to be a foreigner .. and delighted to meet Icelanders with open eyes to the world! Takk fyrir daginn!

More pictures can be seen on the Bulgarian Community's (BG Islandia) web album.

Basket weaving

2007-05-25T00:47:00.000Z

Boogie cartoon from butternutsquash

It was pointed out to me at ceilidh class tonight that so many dances are about basket weaving. In and out, round and about. I think it is true. I wonder what a Strip the Willow basket would like? I think I´d like one. We also had a go at making a basket of people.. (see the video here for an example). I hope nobody is injured after all that. In the UK I feel we would have needed a few thick piles of paper to fill in to ensure we carried out a thorough risk assessment. Things thankfully are a little more laid back here. One man down .. a few more left still standing .. thats okay then.. Still I am teaching a lot of foreigners so perhaps I should be more careful. Everyone up for slow waltz? No really I think it went well, lots of fun. I am really enjoying the classes and am glad I finally went for it. Have been thinking about this idea for at least 12 months!

Just wait a minute..

2007-05-24T23:52:00.000Z

So they say if you don´t like the weather, wait a minute. I thought things got silly in Scotland but we´ve had fun here in the last few days. Hail, snow, rain, sleet, sunshine and blue skies. Then I drove home after belly dancing and had to stop to take pictures .. there were the most amazingly dramatic, purples and greys, blacks and blues; anvil-shaped clouds hugging the mountains all around leaving Reykjavík underneath an island of blue mediterraneanesque (well one can dream!) sky. That was all on Monday.
Today was pretty much the same but I sheltered inside and looked up through the big windows at work .. each window had a different type of weather.

I´ve been inside the last few days though planning ceilidh fun, whistling and fluting and listening to lots of music. I´ve also been trying out my Icelandic skills and pushing them as far as I can with letter writing. The joy of getting a response in Icelandic back from an email sent by me in my "special" Icelandic is immeasurable. Understanding it is cloud nine. Turns out that everyones' tolerance for poor grammar here is much better than I had thought and I can just go for it and talk like a baby. I had underestimated the tolerance for funny sounding Icelandic and was keen on using it as my favourite excuse to avoid trying to speak. Oh well no excuse now.. Gagagagooo woohoo!

First steps on stage

2007-05-15T09:27:00.000Z

This was my belly dance class' first steps on stage at Þjóðleikhúskjallarinn on the 13th of April, performing a choreography by Aida Nour. Our teacher, Margrét, had a fun duet with her very entertaining teacher Maher, dancing a choreography originally danced by Mahmoud Reda and Farida Fahmy.

I was really impressed by Fífí´s solo:

It was fun and great to see the experienced dancers, so relaxed and fluid, cat-like, in their amazing costumes. I suspect belly dance costumes are like shoes.. can you have too many?

Big day for Iceland

2007-05-13T00:19:00.000Z

Last night we sat watching elections all night. First the Eurovision Song Contest which Iceland was knocked out of quite unjustly because of neighbourly voting in eastern Europe and a limited Scandinavian population to back up a pretty good attempt, by Eurovision standards, by Eiríkur Hauksson. Perhaps not being a beautiful blond model didn't help either. Still, being knocked out before the final didn´t stop folk taking everything seriously and being outrageously irritated by the unfair, political voting. This year west versus east Europe it seems. It didn´t help pointing out that it has always been like that. Also didn´t stop Iceland voting for Sweden and Finland at 10 and 12 points.

Then, to my horror, before the winner was announced, just seconds before the finale and replay of the winning song, the TV cut to watch the other big event of the day.. watching the ballot results coming from across Iceland. For yesterday was the Icelandic parliamentary elections that threatened at least to be a pretty close run. In the end the two parties in the ruling coalition were voted back in, but that wasn´t too clear until around 4am.

Of course I couldn't vote for the politicians but it was pointed out to me to soothe the loss that I had one big advantage over everyone here .. I could still put my political ideas into practise by voting twice for the Eurovision, once with my Icelandic mobile and once with my British one.

A suitable follow up to Lordi? Photo by Peter Stubbs

This all reminded me of the recent elections in Scotland. I couldn't vote there either because it was deemed not to be a national election despite being my nation. I had some lively conversations in Edinburgh and was brought close to tears at the unusual levels of hope and community strength in the city. Perhaps for once we Scots were able to believe that there could be change and hope for the country, that we could make a difference and be proud. For how can you proudly hold your head up to the world if you have no power to make decisions for your own country? Keep harking back to the great Scots of old and those who went away from Scotland and did brave and exceptional things abroad? Or am I just getting all Sean Connery-like and getting more pro-Scots than any Scot still living at home? Not sure I want that to happen. Or is it just more noticeable to me now that a small country can do well as an independent nation?

If an independent Scotland were entered into the Eurovison which political connections would they be trying to maintain through the media of drag acts and sparkles? Well, apparently there was a Scot there, singing for Montenegro, who´s ancestor "William Faddy, .. came through Montenegro on the Crusades and fell in love with a local girl and decided to stay". He hoped that would help his song win Scottish support. Viewed that way, the Norwegians, Danes and Irish should have voted to keep Iceland in the contest and perhaps Iceland would have won Eurovision.. just like they should have done of course!

Sun and books

2007-05-08T17:43:00.000Z

The sun is shining today in Reykjavík. It shone through much of the night last night too. It always takes me a little while to get into the long daylight hours, though I look forward to it greatly. To start with it just makes me tired, but happy. From my office I can see two children bouncing high into the air on a trampoline in their garden. The world around is getting greener, spring has sprung. Perhaps winter will jump back in for a finale in the next month.. probably tying in with my planned first fieldwork trip of the summer.

Well, it´s not really the weather for sitting inside reading and it is probably a little too cool for sitting outside reading, but it is a good time to venture out of the house and perhaps meet some new people and thinking about books for rainy days. I thought some weeks ago that it would be good to swap books in person in Iceland as a way of recycling books and perhaps meeting new people. I still think it´s a good idea but any complex signing-up book swapping community based on the internet just might not work. So, I am proposing a once a month gathering in Kaffi Mokka of anyone who wants to swap books in whatever language. If like some you have rooms and rooms of books grab a random few, stuff them in your bag and set off downtown. If you´re in or around Reykjavík even just for a visit bring a book you have read or are tired off, have a coffee, yummy hot chocolate or even better Belgian waffle and leave with some new reading material for a rainy day or a long bus trip. Hope to see you there.

Oh, how we ceilidhed!

2007-05-06T20:59:00.000Z

Circling dancers in Linlithgow

Today I held my first ceilidh class in Reykjavík. I enjoyed it, I hope others did.

Every time I nip back to Scotland I try to fit a ceilidh in. Actually I bend backwards, sideways and spin round about to make one fit in. This time we fared outside Edinburgh in search of the best ceilidh to be had and we definitely found it. The Linlithgow Rugby Club Ceilidh with Last Tram Tae Auchenshuggle. We shuggled, we hopped and we both learnt some new dances. I really liked the Siege of Venice! And the Cumberland Square Eight .. aka the Basket Dance. We even showed off with a little tango.

A basket performed by Magnus and friends to Last Tram.
One for Keith!

Our feet were still hurting days after and Óli´s arm was bruised for days due to the rough handling he got being spun by the ladies! Still, thats a mark (literally) of a good night with lots of dancing.

Whirlwind

2007-05-04T17:10:00.000Z

A new friend in Edinburgh.

We´re back north with views of the snow-capped Esja on the way to work and far across to the Reykjanes ridge from the living room window, the sulphurous smell in the shower and the highly changable weather here. There was sleet hitting the car windscreen as we were kindly given a lift back to Reykjavík by Óli´s Mum, rain on the kitchen window as we enjoyed her cake and coffee and then sunshine when we were invited back for dinner. Today there is a bright blue sky and red roofs outside my window.

The trip to Scotland was a whirlwind. We met family, friends and made new friends too. My folks passed by. That was lovely and I´m looking forward to their visit here. We saw some great friends and sadly missed seeing others. I met a friend of Óli´s who was just lovely. We had sun, sun and more sun. A tiny sprinkling of rain in Glasgow. My pro-Edinburgh propaganda works well in the sun. I indulged in Scottish ex-pat tourist behaviour buying dodgy tartan tights and Óli showed his celtic maternal origins with great enthusiasm in the form of bagpipe and kilt purchases. There was fire, body paint, cold chilly nights, hot summer afternoons, good old fashioned pubs, too many cooked breakfasts, ice cream in the park, a not very scary underground tour, satisfyingly focussed work on pretty shiny glass, desert, tropical rain forests and dusty, cosy bookshops. I belly danced, we ceilidhed... oh, how we ceilidhed. Photos of these things soon.

Friend in a bag.

Sisilly's tree

2007-04-21T16:02:00.001Z

Tree of Life by Welsh artist Jen Delyth

A'm hame noo. Back wi the blether o' the seagulls o'er the ruiftops an' gae soft sleepy whirl o' the cushie doos in the trees. Thae soonds mak a lassie feel that this is kinda hame. Guid tae be hame!

But hame and heim .. they are blending, all becoming one. And thats nice. I like also that to the untrained eye the words for home and the world are so similar in Icelandic .. heim, heimur.

I saw sisilly's tree yesterday and I've been thinking of it this morning. Roots and branches .. perhaps you send a branch out into the world to taste the air in another place and it will become another root. But the world can feel small these days and we can stretch about and keep roots all over so that wherever you go back to you are going back home.

Untamed beauties!

2007-04-21T00:31:00.000Z

The contestants have been announced! Read more on this blog.

Lab life

2007-04-20T22:04:00.000Z

It's a Friday night and I am here, up there, above. I wish I could capture the buzz of the air conditoning the whirring of the instrument and the black black blackness of the view outside. Insdide it seems a grey world on the surface. Yet, I have been searching for points of colour as I wait for calibration.

I don't mind. After a while this little world becomes cosy and safe. And it's worth it .. I expect greatness from these results. Making connections where none were visible before, a great puzzle coming together. Jigsaws of lines of evidence, strands of impressions, sketches in notebooks, maps and on my brain blending and weaving into a story to tell. The life and desires of a palaenvironmental detective.

Meanwhile, microwave ready meals, pickled onion Monster Munch, pretty pink fairy cakes and Coca Cola keep me going, buzzing into the night.

Meanwhile sad news from "home" - a major fire and a burst hot water pipe both in downtown Reykjavik. Some people were badly scolded by the hot water running down Laugavegur. The fire has destroyed some of Reykjavik's oldest buildings.

Ceilidh classes in Reykjavik

2007-04-19T18:39:00.000Z

Beginners Ceilidh classes start in Reykjavik in May.. I'm teaching! Ceilidh dancing is wonderful fun. Scottish country dancing the way real people do it. A great night out, really sociable and not too worried about the perfect steps. I love it! Being back in Scotland just now I am working away in the labs and writing occasional blogs with pretty pictures to remind me that it is spring outside .. or summer if you believe the Icelanders. I am dreaming however of the ceilidh we are going to next Saturday .. Last Tram Tae Auchenshuggle are playing in the Linlithgow Academy. Woohoo!! Never mind kicking up my heels for a dance, I'll be kicking off my shoes!

So, classes in Reykjavik! Dates are:

Sunday 6th May, 14:30 to 17:00
Sunday 13th May, 14:30 to 17:00
Sunday 20th May, 14:30 to 17:00
Thursday 24th May, 20:00 to 22:30

A further class is being planned for the last week in May to have social dancing and rehearse a demonstration set of dances for the Festival of Nations on June 2nd. This is the start of Ceilidh culture in Reykjavik. It's going to be fun and so easy everyone can join in. Have a look at Ceilidh in Reykjavik site for more information and updates.

Gleðilegt sumar - Happy Summer

2007-04-19T14:40:00.000Z

One spring where I grew up

Today is the first day of summer in Iceland and I understand there is sunshine to celebrate the event. What I want to know is "was it frosty last night?" A frost on the night between winter and summer brings the good luck of a good summer and I want one of those please.

A bright spot

2007-04-18T23:20:00.000Z

Night monsters

2007-04-17T19:39:00.000Z

It is dark and cold outside but in a windowless room in Edinburgh there is work to be done. The smell of petroleum ether and araldite glue mix in the air along with shortbread and tea. I work on my slides, polishing and grinding until they shine and the coloured specks of ash from the volcanoes of Iceland glow like specks of gold. The air conditioning monsters growl and I play bellydance music to chase them away. They go. Perhaps they can try a little shimmy in their corner.

There are shadows outside waiting for me to join them and walk, head held high between pools of lamp light back to the homely warmth of my rented room. Plastic bags russling in the wind wait too, drifting along the pavement. They will follow me home, try to tempt me towards one glance back. What was that shadow, that noise?

Back to work, tea and shortbread and all monsters and shadows and plastic bags can wait, their time will come before bed. They have a ten minute slot as I walk to try their best. It's not long enough to get me.

Am I home?

2007-04-17T00:03:00.000Z

I arrived "home" on Sunday. The first few days here have had a minor element of culture shock, a surprisingly substantial part of my brain saying "Is this home?"

I spent Sunday saying "takk" and "fyrirgefðu" to people in shops and forming sentences of enquiry.. "Ertu með kort á Glasgow?" I spent quite some time wandering around like a tourist in Glasgow Queen Street Station trying to work out how to find which way I was pointing as I spun in circles looking at my choice of exits. I always get lost in Glasgow .. there are no tall landmarks I can see from the street. Perhaps it is also associated with the consistent hangover feeling I have when I am there .. not from alcohol, like many other visitors passing through the town centre after a night on the town. No, this is the effect of sleep deprivation induced by a 4.30am start for a horrible-hour flight and packing until 3.30am. Still, it was worth staying up to enjoy Erik´s delicious little lamb that he forced into the oven and Sylvie´s famous chocolate moose! Meeeh.. jarm, jarm.. eek.. Yummy.

Small things I noticed too. Usually that's what happens when I am a visitor. The greenest of Strathclyde from the air, the arched glass of the roof at the station in Glasgow, the rows and rows of wine and spirits sold in the grocery store, the vast size of the Boots the Chemist (one of the smaller ones), the bird droppings on the platform at Edinburgh, the warmth of the sun on my skin, the birds singing in the gardens as I walked to University this morning (I walked to work!), the drunk man sat at the traffic lights on a patch of grass, the views of Blackford Hill and Arthur´s Seat sprinkled with yellow gorse blossoms, the single black lady walking along the street at 12.20am, the milk van delivering milk as I walked back to my guesthouse and the hand-painted cornice as I lie on my bed and look up... I am reminded now of the home that I grew up in.

It is nice to be here. It is different and familiar. But, is it home?

Kate world traveller

2007-04-12T15:57:00.000Z

Hehe .. I am off on trips again, and this time venturing onto unknown soil.

Edinburgh for lab work in April (Óli too.. he is going to buy bagpipes!) and then .. woohoo.. Vancouver, via Montreal.

Packing bags.. packing sand and tephra .. dreaming.

Book Swapping in Iceland

2007-04-11T17:09:00.000Z

A new local community is beginning for book swapping in Iceland. It is open to residents and visitors alike and is easy to use. You can meet people to exchange books or you can post them to another book swapper in Iceland. Books can be of any language.

I like this idea. It is environmentally friendly as well as economical and potentially sociable. Have a look and contact Iceland Bookswap if you want to register. It costs nothing and all you need to start is an email account and one spare book.

Bellydance show

2007-04-09T21:04:00.000Z

My bellydance class are performing at the basement of the National Theatre on Friday. Today I saw some of the more experienced dancers practising and they are really fun to watch. Maher Kishk will also be performing. Hope you can make it.

Book swap

2007-04-08T21:17:00.000Z

There is something about books that oozes comfort, particularly old, slightly bent at the edges books. I like the smell of a dusty old bookshop. It reminds me, I think, of the study in my parent's house, full of books and musical instruments, bits of computers and stacks of paper dating back to the year dot. There was always the aim to organise everything and behind the piles there are organised bookshelves which are now almost impossible to reach. There is usually a small zone somewhere not too far from the door and about a metre in diameter in which you can stand to survey the scene. Mum and Dad please don't take offence ... I love the room!

I have often, like so many ex-booksellers and bookworms, dreamt of having my own little bookshop where you can take a seat and grab a book and a coffee and wile away a few hours, a place where it is good to spend time, where you can get engrossed in the first few pages in a book and just have to take it home. Of course the range of massive book stores are wonderful but the more like a supermarket a bookshop becomes the less I want to go there, no matter how many books it stocks. I love little pokey places or rambling mazes of places, all shelves lined with spines of books, either second hand like Till's Bookshop near the Meadows in Edinburgh (it has a real fire inside) or new like Shakespeare and Company in Paris.

I also like to swap books with friends, share the experience of a fine book knowing it is in safe hands. I have just discovered the concept of book swapping with strangers and I am deciding if I like it or not.. Of course, it is nice passing on books and swapping them when you read something good. Also, with magazines, they can be so expensive but still girls like to look at fashion pictures or read yet more of the same articles about the same things .. make-up, men, fashion, recipes. These days I avoid fashion magazines on the whole.. they can make you feel bad. But still I do like the glamorous fashion shoots and the photography, the bright colours and the shiny pages.

Here there are less people who read books in English to swap with and I have just a few books in Icelandic .. maybe I can swap with the age ranges 5 to 12. I am enjoying trying to read one the Unfortunate Series of Events books translated into Icelandic. The next on the list after that is Hobbitinn, the Hobbit. If you live in Iceland and fancy being involved in a local english-language or multi-lingual bookswapping community get in touch with me here.

There is one café that I like which champions book swapping, and it doesn´t matter about the language of the book. Grái Kötturinn has shelves of books you can swap with .. so long as you replace the one you take with another of a similar colour and size! I have managed to go there once and found it to be a cosy little café with good hot chocolate. However, every other time I´ve passed it has had a gate across with a massive padlock keeping it locked. I´ve peered in once or twice hoping that the café of fine memories is still in business.. and yes, it looks like a normal cafe just shut for the day. So, unless everything was dropped at end of business one day and nobody has returned then I have to assume that it just has odd opening hours. There are no cobwebs or dusty windows after all. Don´t try there for an evening refreshment and book swap experiment though.

So, today I came across another the idea of internet-based book swapping sites. Two seem pretty good for English language readers.. Titletrader which is for books, DVDs and CDs and Readers United which is just books but I think looks much better and has a better range of titles. You lists books (or CDs and DVDs) that you want to swap and then you can requests others from another member. When someone requests one of your books and you send it to them you get awarded points to spend on other books on the sites. Titletrader allows you to buy points so it doesn´t matter so much if you don´t send of books, but then if you live in a town or city you could go to a secondhand book store and browse for hours instead which I think is more fun. Readers United awards you points for joining and listing books so you can request one book straight away. It seems to have a better postage system too.

However, can you really do this? Send your books off into the great big world unaccompanied? I love hoarding books and its only the thought of carrying them up another long set of stairs or moving them to another country (again) that tempts me to send them away on their adventure. And the tax on books in Iceland which makes them into a major investment. Book Crossing looks interesting .. a cross between geocaching and book swapping, you can track your swapped books around the world. I like this idea, it would keep me in contact with my dear books and i wouldn´t feel like I am sending them away into the unknown.

Well, anyone I am trying Titletrader for now and so far this week have received four requests for my books so when the post office opens on Tuesday after the Easter holidays I am going to be sending parcels to Bulgaria, Portugal, Quebec and England. Farewell dear books, I enjoyed your time with me.. find good homes now.

Spring lambs

2007-04-03T17:18:00.000Z

Sheep and lamb bottoms, Fljótsdalur at the end of last summer.

Lambs and sheep make the Icelandic and Scottish news today. The first lambs in Iceland were born in the last week in the south of Iceland and red-sheep have been spotted near Bathgate in Scotland. We are getting ready for Easter here now, with thoughts of a trip to the country, chocolate eggs, daffodils which are still not blossoming and roast lamb or perhaps a little chicken.

Fashionable folk?

2007-03-31T01:41:00.000Z

Talented, fashionable folk! A happy night with friends, January 2006.

I like listening to the radio. I remember well Karen sitting in the wooden summer-house style room in the west of Reykjavík that we lived in consecutively listening to late night shows from an opinionated old guy. I should find out what that is - maybe I´d get some more of it now. My Icelandic is still less well tuned .. I listen to RUV 2 and Bylgjan, equivalent to BBC Radio 2 and Forth FM, and try to understand repetitive song lyrics and adverts for special deals at Bónus. Don´t eat the special offer meat.. just a warning.

I heard a few days ago on a very straight-laced radio program, Woman´s Hour, to which I am a devout expat listener, that folk music is fashionable. I tune into it to get a taste of home and intelligent (sometimes) conversation or when I need to just get a background noise that is relaxing. . translating ads occupies too much of my brain for a sideline activity. It is truly the best place to hear about women´s rights, medical scare stories, old fashioned recipes and excuses for sticky puddings and very proper, slightly blushingly announced, discussions of rather intimate matters!

So, folk music is fashionable.. never thought I´d be a particular fan of fashionable music. Actually, I thought folk was somehow independent of fashion, routed in the past, yet still alive, never really likely to go in phases of popularity like mini skirts or shoulder pads. But now folk is blending so much more with other types of music .. my all time favourite ceilidh band, The Cutting Edge, for example, skillfully plays traditional Scottish folk with a salsa beat.

The Cutting Edge, men in kilts for felis!

Six months ago or so a friendly Icelandic girl asked me which Icelandic music I liked. I was embarrassed to admit I only knew three bands.. not counting Björk who is really less well liked here that in the UK.. 1. Bubbi Morthens, one the nation´s most famous singers, more favoured than Björk at home. His songs are the ones that many people listen to but don´t admit to and they are always the ones people sing when drunk at the end of parties.. 2. Hjálmar, a Swedish-Icelandic reggae band (not joking) and 3. Jeff Who? who are poppy-indie stuff with english lyrics and I mainly remember because I once lived round the corner from the guitarist who stopped me in the street to promote a gig.

Since then I´ve explored a bit more and living with a fiddle player introduces you to more music, though definitely with a folky slant and an awful lot originating in Ireland, Scotland and Nova Scotia rather than in Iceland. The bothy ballads (e.g. The Barnyards o Delgaty) I grew up with, which are proudly attached to a small agricultural heartland in the north of Scotland, are played here with Icelandic lyrics. Iceland in many ways reminds me of Buchan in its fishing and farming heritage and perhaps the songs fit in as well in both homes. I wonder whether they came from north east Scotland or if the Norse left them there on their route north and westwards.

These day in Iceland folk is very alive and blends seamlessly with other influences. There are so many unsigned bands here playing in bars and clubs and living rooms around the town it amazes me. And so many are so good. So, for those of you interested in the Icelandic music scene, have a look at these folk (now try not to read anything into the names, be thankful there's nothing dangerous in there like trolls, Christmas lads or hidden people):

Ljótu hálfvitarnir, the ugly halfwits.. a play on words, I´m told.
Hlynur Ben
Papar, the Irish monks, the Icelandic-Irish folk band
Búálfar, the leprechauns, of course!
My Summer as a Salvation Soldier
Hraun, lava

Small world

2007-03-28T15:33:00.000Z

"It´s a Small World", photo by "BubbaTrout"

It is a small world. Óli met someone recently whom I already know, through a completely different connection. Turns out he has shared links with my sister and we probably know many of the same people in a different city, in a different country. I like this. Everyone is somehow linked to home perhaps.. perhaps everywhere is home. This is probably not news to any Icelanders who can trace their routes back to the settlers, to each other, to kings and princesses in Scandinavia and Ireland. It is special to feel a touch of it as a foreigner. Scattered friends and friends still to be met .. we´re not so far apart.

A nice cup of tea

2007-03-28T13:37:00.000Z

Fljótshlið from the air, Eyjafjallajökull and Mýrdalsjökull in the background.
Picture taken by Jónas Gunnlaugsson

Coffee is a big deal in Iceland. One of the oldest coffee shops in town is still open, Kaffi Mokka, and it is by far the most relaxing and best place to spend a Sunday afternoon eating Belgian waffles, drinking hot chocolate or coffee and talking to people as they pass. It is a nice social place and it has regulars like Old Mens´pubs at home do.

I only started drinking coffee because of my links with Iceland. A overly kind and welcoming farmer in Fljótshlíð invited my field assistant and I in for dinner (delicious poached haddock with boiled potatoes.. shame she was allergic to fish) followed by coffee (shame I didn´t drink coffee). We both politely ate the meal and sipped the coffee and were shocked, slightly awkward and rather bowled-over by the situation. In fact, we were a little scared by being two young women stuck in a middle aged man´s house being offered dinner and free accommodation. We dashed off so quickly afterwards without trying to seem impolite that we abandoned our spade against the garden fence and never found the guts to go back and get it.

I´ve since learnt that this offer of dinner and coffee was a traditional country welcome and that this man had no history of strangeness or of abducting young women. He has since though married a nice foreign girl somewhat younger than him. She perhaps saw his kindness and friendliness in a different light and certainly she has a good traditional cook to live with.

So, out of politeness I began drinking coffee. I found myself many times sitting in queues in offices and stopping off in gas stations and reaching out for a shot of free, strong and bitter coffee. I wouldn´t say I was addicted but I have at least developed a taste it. Before that I was a tea addict, still am... a nice cup of tea and a sit down. Mmmm.

The British tea council announced last autumn that this is no problem (they are of course perhaps not so objective) and that drinking four cups of black tea is proven to significantly reduce stress levels. Scientists at UCL published results in the journal Psychopharmacology that showed that 50 minutes after an allocated stressful task, cortisol levels had dropped by an average of 47 per cent in the tea drinking group compared with 27 per cent in the placebo tea group. Can we assume these scientists were non tea addicts and therefore unbiased, I mean, isn´t is quite well known how lobby groups can try to influence scientific studies. Anyway, I like the results.. tea is good for me.

Being a tea addict in Iceland is a problem. Melrose´s Tea is the main brand here with its distinctive red packaging and distinctively bad, rather fishy taste. Tetley is gradually infiltrating. Twinings Earl Grey is the answer. I am forever buying Hagkaup out of its Earl Grey supply and am wondering if it is time to make a deal with the importer. Last summer I ordered 20 or so packets of tea from an online supermarket and had it delivered to my parents before they made their annual Landrover and ferry pilgrimage to Iceland. The supermarket didn´t have enough. A day beginning without tea is a tough day.

When my grandfather (Papa) died I inherited his little metal tea pot and it is one of my most treasured items. It came to Iceland with me and has since travelled with us to summer houses around the south and west of the country and even came on the mystery adventure to Viðfjörður and to the rather luxurious mountain hut at Básar in Þórsmörk. I give Papa a happy thought every morning.

Papa´s teapot on holiday at Seljalandsfoss, April 2006

Next time any of you drop by lets go for a tea and waffles at Kaffi Mokka... or we can stop your coffee shakes and try some heavy duty Icelandic coffee. Today though I am sat at home where I can always have a cup of tea to hand and the biscuit box next to me while writing .. for once both papers and blog.

Reykjavík weather

2007-03-26T11:09:00.000Z

Today in Reykjavík. Blue skies and sunshine. Veðurstofa Íslands, the Meteorological office have a webcam at their office on Bústaðarvegur and update the picture every 5 minutes. Check before packing your bags, but remember weather can change every few minutes so you might miss the snow storm between two images. Webcams for road conditions are available from Vegagerðin, the Roads Administration.

Apples, oaks and (mis)translations

2007-03-25T14:24:00.000Z

Ever tried translating sayings into another language? Imagine from the point of view of a non-native English speaker (sorry all non-native English speakers but this is to make a point): Picture the scene and translating this:

Poor, withered old codger, he popped his clogs and they all thought it was just old age. His old lady though knew that the others were barking up the wrong tree. You see, his niece had this butter wouldn´t melt in her mouth look. She was sweet, pretty with big blue eyes and an innocent air but somehow the old lady just never took to her... just said "I´m not going to bother beating around the bush at my age, she´s not my cup of tea and thats that". Maybe when you are someone´s niece you have some sway with the will-writing plans and this idea just wouldn´t budge from the widow´s head. But would anyone believe her, an old lady, slightly not there in the head, long since lost her glow? She didn´t think so."Lost the last of her marbles with grief and years of bottled up jealousy" they´d say. That girl was going to run off with all the gold and get off scot free.

And, haven´t you always wondered, what was the "best thing before sliced bread?"

In Iceland you can say "Ég borga bara með reiðufé" mistranslating to "I will only pay with an angry sheep", "Hver á þessa bók?" being "Hot spring river this book" or "Hann stóð á öndinni", "He stood on the duck". In Iceland also no apple falls far from the oak tree! Apparently. But then apples are giant heavy American ones with little taste and oak trees are few and far between.

Here is the ever-present issue about how much one understands as a foreigner in a country. I always wondered if many foreign students I met were desperately shy or had little sense of humour but I realise being in Iceland and often being lost in conversations that it is really hard work listening to a foreign language you are not fluent in. Add sleepiness or background music and it is virtually impossible. So.. one can easily become quiet and drift off in conversations to a dreamy world of ones own and rarely will you laugh at jokes or crack your own. It takes a determined and outgoing person to avoid this trap. Things get better though and after a phase of being silent as your learn some words yourself, feeling lacking in a sense of humour and being really frustrated, once in a while you'll laugh out loud at something or answer wittily to some over-blunt Icelandic comment and my, it is nice to feel more part of things. It is like being released from some sort of cage.

"Epli og eikur" (apples and oaks) is a new musical production from the theatre group Hugleikur, written by Þórunn Guðmundsdóttir. I went with Óli to the premier last Friday. It is a twisty-turny story of love and confusion and criminal activity.Even foreigners can follow the plot and get at least one pet worm joke. Many of the songs and jokes are constructed on plays on words so that is difficult, but very funny if you get it.. and if you don't there are always the slap-stick moments and the musical interludes that will keep you amused. If you can go, do.. Möguleikhúsið near Hlemmur for the next few weeks. This is of course a blatant plug for a play with my boyfriend and the two English gentlemen in so I´m not particularly objective. But it is fun. Truly. The music is fun and the acting is really professional. They are another bunch of super-talented musicians and artists, jacks of all the entertainment trades (almost) and masters of many. Möguleikhús is really intimate so you feel like you are in someone´s living room. It´s cosy and nice. I´ll go again.

Untamed beauty

2007-03-22T16:57:00.000Z

Beautiful. This image of a woman’s eye was photographed and titled by her 15-year-old granddaughter. JENNA KARLSBERG

Icelandic women are famed for their beauty. Icelandic men, for reasons I just don´t get, are not. But then I like men with beards and character and fall head over heels for musicians. In this country you are outcast if you can´t play requests straight from memory on at least one instrument. Or thats how it seems. I am making a rushed attempt to learn some Scottish folk songs before it is time to reapply for my residence permit.

Beauty pageants are something I always associate with America and prom queens or swimsuit beauties from the 1970s. I think of myself in a swimsuit at my most sleek and still see a different creature from the high heeled, long legged beauties of pageants. There are giraffes and then there are Scottie dogs.. it takes all types. But then, I like being my shape and size and not having to discuss world peace. Sure, we´d all like it but it is most likely virtually impossible and chocolate cake is so much more attainable. Perhaps I am the shallow one.

Anyway, Ísafjörður in the northwest of Iceland has a different take on the value and definition of beauty and I was most impressed when I first heard of the idea of Untamed Beauty, bizarrely on the world service radio show the other morning. I haven´t spoken to anyone in Reykjavík yet who has heard of it , perhaps in the city they prefer the high heels and swimsuits .. and Ísafjörður is admittedly rather remote and windswept. It has its own untamed beauty I´m told and I really want to go there. But I like windswept, in landscapes and people. Maybe foreigners are more romantic about wilderness and the untamed? This is the land of the superjeep after all.

Time will tell. It is not too late to enter, just register before April 11th. You can be male or female, must be over 20 and are not encouraged to loose weight for the event. Don´t make too much effort with your hair either .. the west of Iceland is windy. They state that they want to celebrate wrinkles and timeworn hands as stories of your life and this idea really appeals to me. I hope I will be a wrinkly old grandmother with sparkling eyes and tales of wonder to tell. Perhaps I´ll wear purple. I found my second white hair last week.

Brits in Iceland and the ex-pat image

2007-03-22T15:05:00.000Z

A few nights ago I met two fellow Brits. Well, both very polite English gentlemen so not so much my fellows but fellows themselves. I can´t say I felt particularly British until I came to Iceland. I realise despite being a proud Scot I have some of that British reserve and a liking of polite conventions which I´d never even recognised before. I suppose I believed that all those pleases and thankyous were just part of being a good girl and a generally acceptable human being. It turns out I was wrong. Icelanders are great thankers and will thank you many times in a conversation, always thank you for dinner and wish you your good health, say thank you for the last time you met and how good it was to see you but don´t expect to hear please and try not to be shocked by a direct expression of opinion, request for anything or abrupt comment in passing. It is just how things are done here and though perhaps takes a while to get used to .. took me a while to get used to and still I sometimes come away from an encounter with another person feeling like I´ve met the most rude and rough person yet.. in the end anyway, it turns out there are different rules about being polite even in countries just separated by a little bit of warm ocean current and cod-rich waters.

Back to the Brits. I keep coming across them all over the place. Why are we all here? What makes a British person head even farther north? And why oh why don´t we all get in touch? There are times of the year when you want to share Christmas cake, light a sparker to celebrate or otherwise Guy Fawkes´attempts to blow up Parliament, paint and roll Easter eggs and share some haggis when nobody else around quite gets it. I am attempting a blend of Scottish and Icelandic traditions in our household and though nobody quite understands the point of Christmas crackers that don´t explode even half as much as any Icelandic cracking festive traditions, they are all polite and join in, slightly bemused.

Is it the ex-pats in Spain image? Overdone tans and fish and chips? Is that the problem? There is no risk of overdone tans here, at least not naturally and the fish will be so much fresher than anything back home. Iceland is becoming a very diverse society. There are many cultural groups here .. for people from far away and from those as close as the Faroe Islands and Greenland. There is even an organisation called the Edinburgh Society which is a group of Icelanders who have all studied in Scotland. There are both Irish and Scottish themed bars. Icelanders make societies wherever they go, for example the Icelandic Society in London, to stay in touch with each other and maintain their traditions outside of the family home. Maybe the Brits are all here to get away from other Brits. But I don´t think so. I´d say we have a lot of things to share with each other and the varied nationalities here .. start a sausage making club, a morris dancing organisation, a deep-fried Mars bar trend.. I´m not saying lets all go round singing the National Anthem.. who knows the words anyway.. though perhaps Jerusalem or Flower of Scotland or Danny Boy (also a traditional Icelandic song) might be fun. Maybe we are all ashamed about being from the UK; what a shame.

Anyway, nice to meet the English gentlemen. Now, do I want to start the haggis, bread and butter pudding and gin and tonic club in Reykjavík? Maybe a Buchan-Icelandic club would be less offensive. With one Scottish member , some Icelandic ex-Aberdeen students and a few bothy ballads (also locally known as traditional Icelandic songs.. more on that later). All ideas for celebrating British and North Atlantic culture very welcome.

chocyamo

2007-03-22T12:18:00.000Z

She is so wonderful.. watch their Bernard Drake video

Spring snow

2007-03-19T13:07:00.000Z

We have snow in 101 Reykjavík! The view from Askja, where I work.

Colours

2007-03-18T15:00:00.000Z

It´s been dark over winter but on sunny, clear days the colours are so bright and I have to go out for a walk. Amazing to believe that the daffodils and snowdrops are blooming in the UK. The ravens (krummi) are calling but no garden birds and I´ve not seen the redwings for a while. Nobody has eaten the seed balls we left out. I don´t think they know they are there... will make a big sign "Nesti" ("travelling provisions") and paint them red.

Land of Mountain and Flood

2007-03-14T12:27:00.000Z

Today I went to the post office to collect a parcel waiting for me. It is always a special day if it starts with a brown paper parcel. I can usually tell from the writing who it is from .. or in the case of my sister it usually has special tape sealing it shut. There was a phase of yellow tigger tape and then also some holographic shiny tape. This parcel I'd been looking forward to arriving since I'd heard about it being en route to me. I couldn't wait until I got to work to look inside so sat inside the car ripping open the brown paper like a child at Christmas .. and just like a child I have kept the bubble wrap in my desk drawer for a moment where popping bubbles will add light to my mood. I look forward to that delight and am keeping it until later. Inside the bubble wrap was a new, shiny, beautiful hardback book "Land of Mountain and Flood: The Geology and Landforms of Scotland" Thank you Sarah at Birlinn.

Now, I have a lot to do today.. decide if I have any good results to present at a conference in Vancouver in the summer, decide what they might be, write a draft of the abstract. But first.. just a wee quick flick through my nice new shiny book. I almost never buy hardbacks; they cost so much and are so heavy but they look stunning and I always mentally give them a little stroke when I pass them in the shops, gaze longingly at their glossy covers..

I've not read it yet so this is no book review.. but it looks good, covers geology from the very beginning to some time in the future, says why it is important and interesting to everyone and presents a pretty good case (note that for future grant applications and justifications of why I get paid to do what I enjoy to the next tax payer who asks), has lots of lovely pictures of Scotland, of Edinburgh, of great landforms, of people..

I'm going to put it out of my reach for the day and take it home tonight. I have a lot to learn about geology before the last few million years. I think this might even be the book for me to start going down that road.. minimum of one picture per page, good accessible language, accurate geological facts and explanations. Very happy.. thanks thanks..

Until then.. aerial photographs of Snæfellsjökull.. and applying myself. Ah .. it is so sunny outside, ten minutes ago it was a blizzard.. I could watch the weather all day.. a good cup of tea, my new shiny book and a big window on the world...

Part of a big happy Icelandic family

2007-03-13T14:45:00.000Z

A lovely picture .. thanks Sigga.

New enthusiasms - dance and blogs

2007-03-09T17:21:00.000Z

I always wondered what the appeal of this blog-writing thing was but since I finally went for it and made one of my own I have been exploring other people´s thoughts, pictures and stories and playing with my own. Its´s fun. How can it be harder to write a scientific paper with a pre-determined outline with pre-determined language guidelines than it is to write an ad-hoc freestyle piece of prose about something far more personal?

I have the same question about my more long-standing obsession. Disco dances were always a minor trauma in my teenage years and clubs are still almost as horrifying despite now being aged over 30. The idea of having to make up a dance was just too much even when the music was inspring and it was hard to stop your bottom wiggling or toes tapping. Now, ceilidh dances with set steps or even ballroom dancing were more my thing. More recently there is tango which is fairly constrained and mostly it is the man that has to be inspired. But now.. belly dancing and salsa. Have a go girls (or boys) - they are both wonderful. And you can celebrate all those curves or your beautifully flat tummy. And you can improvise, feel sexy and sneak in a bit of exercise into life without really trying.

Maybe by the time I´m 70 I´ll be out there in the nightclubs taking my place on the floor having finally taken to improvisation and spend my days writing stories of all the adventures I´ve had and those I´ll still be planning.

Anyway, what better way to brighten up the long dark nights of winter. It is March now, nights are taking longer to set in but it is still cold and the wind gets into all the gaps between your buttons and into the creases in your scarf. I can see that spring is on its way but it is creeping its green fingers very slowly into the north. Perhaps scared of frostbite.

You can find out more about belly dancing in Iceland here and salsa here. Good dance pages in Scotland can be found through Edinburgh Salsa.

Our family

2007-03-07T10:33:00.000Z

This is us.. Óli, me and Þór.

Óli is Icelandic, from the east of Iceland and very tall (picture taken in Scotland). He likes playing the fiddle and fireworks. I am from Scotland and normal in height where I come from or rather small here (picture taken in the east of Iceland). I like being outside and dancing. Þór is a Campbells Russian dwarf hamster born in Iceland. He is extremely small but big for a dwarf hamster. He likes eating sunflower seeds and drinking milk.

New blog page

2007-03-06T13:00:00.000Z

I've been playing with webpages for a while now but never actually put them online so I'm going to start writing little posts with stories and pictures of what I get up to in Iceland and elsewhere. I'll also put old material up here so that some of last year's adventures and the start of my story can be read. We've had stunning weather this February .. sunshine and bright skies. I want to stay here for good when the weather is like this. Step outside though and your ears and nose drop off from the freezing wind.. then I start dreaming of the delights of continental destinations with wonderfully civilised food and prices and the warmth of the sun on my skin. Well anyway, this weekend I got a grant approved so I'll be here a bit longer at least and I hope it is the start of something fun and exciting. More later.

Áramót - Hogmanay

2006-12-31T00:00:00.000Z

Hogmanay or New Year´s Eve is a frenzy of explosions and fire in Iceland. The battery begins around the 27th of December and continues until around the end of January. Áramót itself is hard to describe.. explosions all around in built up areas. I was reminded of live TV broadcasts from war zones. A lovely old couple appeared on the TV news to say that they had phoned the emergency services to ask when the explosions would end but the police couldn´t help, so they filled a flask with coffee and hid in the their bathroom which had no windows until around 3am. Þór did the same.. we put his cage in the bath. I enjoyed it though was rather alarmed at the proximity to houses, cars, people. The boys bought a big cake called Katla for me .. so I got to see an eruption of Katla. Thankfully nobody was hurt. The fireworks picture above was taken close to midnight, but we started the evening by going to an bonfire where children were playing with rockets, then went to Óli´s uncle´s house where they set up a last hot air balloon. There was a wild west feeling to the street full of boys of all ages wielding flares and explosive devices and spoking cigars and drinking beer. Icelanders are mad (madly fun) and strangely there are still some of them alive to set the night sky alight and perhaps a few unwary obstacles that don´t run away fast enough.

Sparkles

2006-12-29T22:00:00.000Z

Hot air balloons

2006-12-23T10:38:00.000Z

In depth testing of hot air balloon engineering marked Christmas for Óli, Rikki and their Dad. They look beautiful but there is a hair raising element to watching a burning thing float over the houses of Reykjavík.

Smákökur - Christmas cookie competition

2006-12-10T23:15:00.000Z

Advent and the lead up to Christmas in Iceland is a time for baking, as it is elsewhere. Here though there is a very special tradition of baking smákökur, small cakes or cookies. Not just one type but as many as you possibly can. The question isn´t have you baked your smákökur this year yet, it´s how many types have you baked and which ones? I don´t know how many there are, perhaps as many recipes as there are for cookies around the world but I spent this December being offered new and exciting cookies at work and at Óli´s family home and thoroughly enjoyed this cultural adventure. Some of the cookies must have origins abroad and some feel very Icelandic, with cinnamon taste. Rúsínukökur are one of my favourites and piparkökur are one of Óli´s so I include them here. Have a look here for some others (in Icelandic).

Rúsínukökur

225g plain flour, 200g butter or margarine, 180g porridge oats, 220g chopped raisins (we minced then in a .. well.. of course, a mincer), 460g sugar, 2 teaspoons of bicarbonate of soda, 1 teaspoon of salt, 2 eggs

Mix everything to together except the raisins. Add raisins to mix. Let the dough stand in the fridge for a day and bake the day after. Line a baking sheet with baking parchment (no need to butter baking sheet). Roll the dough into small balls about an inch (2.5 cm approx... in weight, 20g dough balls are big, 15 to 20g is fine) in diameter and place on baking sheet leaving a lot of space between them because they completely flatten out when cooked. Bake for 9 minutes at 200 degrees C.

Piparkökur

500g plain flour, 500g soft dark brown sugar, 250g soft butter or margarine, 2 eggs, 5 teaspoons of baking powder, 1 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda, 2 teaspoons of ginger, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, half a teaspoon of ground cloves, half a teaspoon of pepper.

Mix everything together into a dough. It will feel grainy because of the sugar but that´s ok. If you can get caster sugar this would be better. Roll the dough into cylinder 3-4 cm in diameter and wrap in clingfilm. It needs to be in the fridge for at least a few hours so best to do this the day before. Slice the dough into 1 to 1.5cm slices. Bake for 9-11 minutes at 200 degrees C. We baked ours for 8.5 minutes and after that they got too dark underneath. Óli says this makes enough to fill a standard-sized Mum cookie box. This means little to me and Óli´s Mum is a busy and wonderful cook and has what appears to be an infinite number of cookie boxes of all sizes. Let´s say this makes plenty. Apparently though we are doubling the recipe next year.. 2 of everything.

Christmas tree hunt

2006-12-01T10:22:00.000Z

Christmas puddings - serve flaming

2006-11-26T22:41:00.000Z

Christmas baking rule number 1 .. never bake only one of anything. Two Christmas cakes, two Christmas puddings also. At least two batches of favourite Christmas cookies or smákökur.

Christmas baking rule number 2 .. always sample ingredients prior to inclusion in recipe .. dried fruit, glacé cherries, brandy, sherry..

Óli’s general Christmas rule .. set fire to as many things as possible.

On holiday in Scotland in November I found individual Christmas puddings for sale way before advent even. Along with mulled wine and mince pies. Maybe like hot cross buns they will become year-round delights. But does that remove the delight? Thankfully we arrived just a little too early for the Christmas shopping carols, otherwise our hunt for Christmas presents in 2 days would have been even more trying that it was. Living in Iceland it is hard to go to the world outside without feeling like a child in a sweetie shop when presented with a big range of shops, culinary delicacies and prices which don’t break the bank. Mmm.. cheese, black pudding, .. shoes. I read once, when working over Christmas in a book shop, that the incessant playing of Christmas carols in the high street has a measurable detrimental effect to the mental health of shop workers. I can well believe it and I think I am still struggling to recover. Well, Christmas pudding joined the list of Scottish hits and true to style we decided to make our own. We spent the summer squashing berries and stirring pots of gooey blood so Christmas puddings really had to be homemade. Anyway, the suitcases were too stuffed with secret Christmas presents, glacé cherries, cheeses, haggi and black puddings for any shop-bought Christmas food.

Step 1, gather rather ugly but practical plastic pudding basins from Lakeland plastics. No chance I am messing with string and fancy knots a la Delia after the black pudding scenario. Step 2, gather all fruit left over from Christmas cakes and brandy stored away from Óli. Dig out trusty “Mrs. Beeton’s Favourite Recipes” book. Very small, it always hides behind the fancy, shiny, glossy photographic coffee-table type cookbooks which I hardly use. However, once tracked down it is a cookbook to be treasured, with age-old standards such as roast beef and yorkshire puddings, eccles cakes and .. Christmas puddings. Mrs. Beeton’s recipes work for me, Jamie Oliver’s don’t.

Mrs. Beeton was pretty amazing .. her book on household management became Britain’s most famous cookbook and despite the wealth of glossy modern books on cooking and food probably remains so. Originally published as a collection of articles from the "The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine", "The Book of Household Management Comprising information for the Mistress, Housekeeper, Cook, Kitchen-Maid, Butler, Footman, Coachman, Valet, Upper and Under House-Maids, Lady’s-Maid, Maid-of-all-Work, Laundry-Maid, Nurse and Nurse-Maid, Monthly Wet and Sick Nurses, etc. etc. – also Sanitary, Medical, & Legal Memoranda: with a History of the Origin, Properties, and Uses of all Things Connected with Home Life and Comfort." was published as a complete volume in 1961. Phew, was anyone left out of that list? I suppose the etc. etc. covers them. Just imagine the acronym. Also called Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management or Mrs. Beeton’s Cookbook. It is now mostly available on-line where you can also read about the history of a Victorian household. Times for people in Britain really were different then. She died aged 28 after giving birth, like many others of her era.

This recipe makes 4 puddings, each in a 1 pint sized basin. What on earth do you do with 4 puddings? I think this dates back from the days of 16-person families. One spoonful of this Christmas pudding is enough to satisfy a craving for rich food for at least a week. So, it was Christmas, we halved the recipe and made two, following rule number 1 and ate about one sixth as a serving each, enough to make it almost impossible to move for a few hours. The rather disgusting, yet traditional, Christmas feeling.

Ingredients: 225g (8oz) plain flour, pinch (meaning a little, I have little hands so that’s very small) of salt, pinch (again) of coriander, teaspoon ground ginger, teaspoon cinnamon, teaspoon mixed spice (I think it is a UK thing ..includes ), teaspoon grated nutmeg, 50g (2oz) chopped almonds, 450g (1lb) soft brown sugar (dark makes a nicer colour), 275g (10oz) shredded suet (beef fat, from Scotland, do not use chopped Icelandic lamb fat.. yucky yuck yuck), 275g (10oz) precious sultanas, 275g (10oz) currants or chopped figs or dates if currants have suddenly become more precious than gold.. maybe everybody was making Christmas puddings, 225g (8oz) raisins, 225g (8oz) mixed peel, 200g stale white breadcrumbs, 6 eggs, 75ml stout (e.g. Guinness.. give remaining to Óli, make a friend for the day), 50ml brandy (or to taste.. I wonder what becomes too much), tablespoon of rum, juice of 1 orange, 150-300ml (1/4 to 1/2 pint) milk. Not entirely authentic .. we added the figs (Figgy Pudding), cinnamon and coriander (because it didn’t smell Christmassy enough and most Icelandic baking has some cinnamon) and the rum (to dilute the brandy!). Like with the Christmas cake do the cooking show thing of measuring out everything into cute little bowls before mixing together otherwise something is bound to get missed. I felt a little silly with my long list, ticking everything off .. just needed a clipboard and to push my glasses to the end of my nose. Find someone else to do the washing up.

Method: Mix all dry things together (flour, salt, spices – you can sieve these if you wish, I don’t think it matters – dried fruits, almonds, sugar, suet and breadcrumbs). Beat together eggs, stout, rum, brandy, orange juice and 150ml milk. This really isn’t a pretty combination. Gradually stir this into the dry ingredients until you get a soft dropping consistency, which means what I ask? .. it drops softly, note dropping not dripping, soft and will drop off the spoon I suppose, but having investigated this now to some degree that can mean almost anything.. I’d aim for something like slightly melted ice cream. Put the mixture into four (if using the whole recipe and feeding your entire neighbourhood or one Edinburgh tenement) plastic pudding basins and cover with the lids. Leave about a 1 cm space between the pudding mixture and the lid. We overfilled one and of course it popped and then became too dry inside. Put into deep boiling water in a very big pan (big enough to boil yer head; really I don’t boil heads, its just a turn of phrase .. and reminds me of student fieldtrips and accurate measurements of boulder sizes.. “It was as big as my head”, perfectly describing the boulder in question and giving a lovely impression of the degree of roundness and density also, see attached head in appendix for calibration of the scale). Boil steadily for 6 to 7 hours. Puddings not heads. You need to be at home for this to top up the water now and again and to stop your children and pets climbing into the pot. It will be a slightly darker colour when cooked and you will see some tasty sweet syrupy juices in it. Let it cool, wrap tightly in foil and place in the fridge. Keep for as long as 12 months or preferably at least 1 month before eating. We had one at Hogmanay since there was no space after the turkey at Christmas and another for our Burns supper around a month later. The Burns night one was definitely better.

Reheat before serving either in the microwave for a few minutes or by boiling again for 1 and half hours. Leave to stand for five minutes or so before serving. Serve flaming! Heat an eggcup full of brandy for a few seconds in a microwave or in a small pan. Pour over up-turned pudding and set alight. Do not place under paper lampshade over the table. Whoosh! Good with cream or ice cream. How can anyone really seriously consider sweet brandy sauce?

Christmas cakes

2006-11-22T11:32:00.000Z

My first Christmas away from a UK family so lets do it right. What do we need? A real Christmas cake, a Christmas pudding, Christmas dinner, crackers, tinsel, Christmas cards.. First the baking.

As predicted after baking fruitcake, Christmas cake was a drama. But fun. I bought decorations when in Edinburgh in November and hoarded dried fruit, putting the sherry, sultanas and glacé cherries out of reach of even Óli. I needed a set of steps to reach them. Mum gave me her recipe and we got hold of one from Delia online. We made two cakes.. Mum´s real Christmas cake with lots of halved cherries and Delia´s rich traditional cake which of course can´t beat Mum´s one. But being part of the real cultural experience I was told we had to have the traditional as well as the Mum version. I am writing this in March and .. well.. all the Mum cake disappeared before New Year but we have still got a small wedge of the Delia one wrapped in foil in the cupboard. Mum, can I give away the recipe?

For once it really is worth doing the cooking show thing of measuring everything into little bowls and placing them in the order of appearance in front of you. Tick each one off on the list. Prevents 4 times the amount of sultanas (so no more fruit cakes until next foreign trip and no Christmas pudding) and also prevents subtle theft of cherries to the detriment of the cake. More cherries in the cake the better, less cherries directly into Óli the better. Follow the secret recipe (is it secret Mum?) and place in a round tin, 8" diameter. Put brown paper or baking parchment around it and make a paper lid to stop it burning. Cook for about 3 hours. Feed with sherry once per week at least. Then, cover with marzipan rolled to a sensible thickness, less than 1cm perhaps. Make royal icing and forget to include gelatine and create a snowscene on your cake. Make everything nice and spiky. Break teeth on hard icing but enjoy cake.

Slátur and a not so full Scottish breakfast

2006-10-22T11:30:00.000Z

Slátur (slaughter), traditional Icelandic food, is prepared every September to October during the peak of the sheep slaughtering season. There are two main types of slátur, blóðmör or blood pudding and lifrapylsa or liver pudding. The first is similar to British black pudding and the latter similar to haggis, though both without the spices and much smoother in texture. We both like the Scottish versions of slátur and Óli likes some Icelandic versions so we thought we´d have a go.. the plan was to make 4 things .. Scottish black pudding and haggis and Icelandic blóðmör and lifrapylsa. We only go as far as part 1, Scottish black pudding..

Ingredients: sheep's blood, sheep's fat (chopped), chopped onions, oatmeal, herbs and spices (nutmeg, cayenne pepper, thyme, pepper, salt), full fat milk, sausage skins, strong stomach (your own)

Method: Step one, ask your friendly chef-turned-meat-factory-worker friend for some plastic sausage skins. Then, take a trip to your local supermarket where they have an angelic and helpful slátur adviser to guide you through your options. Leave the sheep´s heads alone and head for the bottles of fresh (or frozen) blood and chopped sheep fat. Try not to think too hard about what you are buying. Grab one carton of full cream milk and some onions. Take your goodies home. Dig out the precious bag of Alford oatmeal and raid the cupboards for lots of spices. Put on the biggest apron you have. Chop that fat some more and your onions too. Pour the thick gooey blood into a big, hopefully but ultimately of course not splash-proof, bowl. Stir. Keep thinking about spring flowers or other non-morbid topics. Add fat, chopped onions, oatmeal, milk and spices. Put aside camera which is getting cover in splashes of yuck. Construct a sausage filling contraption from the largest funnel you have. Fill sausages and spill goo all over yourself and the floor. Sit on floor tying string at regular intervals along probably the world longest bag of bloody goo. Place wobbly, smelly sausage cases in oven with some water. Poach for 3 hours. Put in freezer to hide because experience was so messy and smelly and yucky. Take one sample black pudding out of freezer some weeks later when feeling brave and dreaming of the famous full Scottish breakfast. Slice black pudding, look disappointed at distribution of onions and oatmeal, fry and discard. Enjoy untainted bacon, eggs and beans.

Lesson learnt: For a good recipe, try elsewhere. Resolve to buy local specialities at Melabuðin and import Stornoway black pudding in future.

Snæfellsnes

2006-10-20T15:58:00.000Z

Snæfellsnes is by far at its prettiest in autumn when the light is low and there is a dusting of snow on the mountains. Step out of the car and you´ll probably be blown away.

Fruit loaf

2006-07-01T12:00:00.000Z

Apparently this loaf is worth a picture .. or so Óli says .. though the taste really should be captured instead since it looks pretty plain and tastes really yummy. In Iceland fruitcakes are special.. sultanas are imported from the UK in boxes of textbooks and school notes posted on the land route .. by truck, by sea for cheapest possible, hope-it-arrives-one-day type price.. glacé cherries are crammed into the corners of suitcases and the small rucksac side pockets of little use that always rip in aeroplanes, self-raising flour is made at home. After some searching I finally found a reliable recipe for self raising flour that produced a quantity of less than 1 stone. Imagine the drama for Christmas cake and Christmas pudding!

Ingredients: 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water, 1 cup sultanas (land shipped), 1 cup raisins, 2 level teaspoons of baking soda (bicarbonate of soda), 4 ounces (approximately 115g) of margarine (or best Icelandic butter), 2 eggs, 2 cups of self raising flour (or 2 cups of plain flour, 1 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda (yes, more) and 2 and a half teaspoons of cream of tartar, sold in the spice section not the baking section of the supermarket.. imagine how long it took to find that .. 6 whole months without Scottish baking). You can replace the dried fruit with 225g of any dried fruit.

Method:
1. Put all the ingredients except the flour mix and the eggs in a pan*. Boil for 15 minutes. Smells good.
2. Cool then beat in2 eggs and the flour mixture.
3. Mix well until smooth. Spoon or scoop into a greased loaf tin.
4. Bake in a moderate oven (160-180C/gas mark 3-4) for 45 minutes. Length of time may vary depending on oven and size and shape of baking tin.
5. Cut off four slices and freeze for producing later when Kate has forgotten about the loaf and misses home, or for sneaky midnight feasts which you don´t tell Kate about.

* Pan is a pot in Iceland, a frying pan is a pan. Might work, could be messy.

Viðfjörður, mystery trip to east Iceland

2006-02-28T12:00:00.000Z

Waking up horrendously early in the pitch black of a February morning I was bundled into the car with what I would need to stay in a "summer" house for a night .. with no idea of our destination. We left late, as is our wont and rushed out of the city towards the south. We drove.. reached the turn off for Þingvellir (my first guess), headed for Vík í Myrdal (my second guess) and kept going. Further east we hit Höfn in Hornafjörður with barely enough time to refuel and grab a sandwich to feed our famished tummies. Still so far to go.. but yet little clues to our destination.. though I was beginning to guess. We were entering the east of Iceland, Óli´s world, where reindeer run free and where I was completely at his mercy!

As we drove, still late, I guessed we were heading to Neskaupstaður but still no idea where. Thats a fishing town not a summer house. We pulled up by a big building in the port, humphed out our rucksacs and put on our waterproofs, covered everything in black bags and lowered a boat into the water. Ten o´clock at night, in pitch black again we were still on our journey, now across the dark rather scary-looking fjörð and into the night. My first time on such a boat. It was cold and we dashed with apparent focus across the water towards a destination that those around me knew so well they had no need to question navigation or go haltingly, instead catching up on their news from lives in the east and in Reykjavík. They dropped us off at a pier that we couldn´t see, in a fjörð a little around the coast from the town where no lights shone bar our head torches and the only sound was running water. And then they were off, colliding with nets on the way out so as to send back peels of laughter to us left on the shore in the pitch black with just our bags and a fiddle.

We struggled up the deeply dark path and the unusually tall white house appeared ahead of us. Rather ghostly.. but perhaps that affect had as much to do with the stories I´d been hearing over the winter of teenage trips to the house and apparitions and eerie atmospheres encountered there more than the actual sight before me. We went inside and explored with our head torches .. I went around setting gas lamps and little candles in the rooms we were always going into to chase out the shadows. The house has no electricity and no water during the winter when its only very occasional occupancy (apart from the ghosts, who we assume don´t need running water) would allow the pipes to freeze and burst. We set the fire to a roaring, friendly glow and went back into the night to fetch water. Completely light adapted again we could see so little as we walked over the mirey ground to the river with our bottles.. and turning around to look back at the path we were taking so as to be sure to go the correct way, we saw all windows of the house full of that roaring flame. To anyone it would have looked like the house was on fire and we stumbled back to check and found only a cosy living room with the glass cabinet stove full of lively, but perfectly contained, flames.

We spent much of that weekend carrying water! In bottles and buckets, even in a plastic baby bath. The little house at the back has a cleverly designed steam room and shower, all lined beautifully in wood. It looks like a little Scottish croft house but is a luxurious Nordic spa! But, in winter there is no running water..

It was a wonderful weekend.. in February it was so warm that we could go outside in short sleeves amazingly and took a little walk and saw seals and stunning mountains. We explored the attic and looked in the bedrooms and I ran really quickly between candle-lit oases once it got dark. We never saw the ghost but the lack of heating and light makes for cold, drafty patches which contrast alarmingly with the toasty fire and the warm glow of flames.

On Sunday the men from the boat came back to get us and we headed back to Reykjavík and back to reality with full wintery blasting winds and icy roads. It took ten hours to drive east and three days to drive back again. In between we had unexpected spring, wild nature, romance and music and the wonderful 30th birthday present mystery adventure break from the long winter could not have been better. Thank you Óli and also thank you Skúli, Ingvar, Helgi and Óli´s family who helped in the subterfuge.

Tango

2005-11-30T12:00:00.000Z

There is an amazingly active Argentinian tango scene in Reykjavík. Its apparently just like walking and certainly easy to get started with, though I´d say you need to keep practising to be any good. Well, in an attempt to meet people I started going to tango nights at Alþjóðahús, the Intercultural Centre in Reykajvík and met friendly people, and then joined classes ran by Kathrin, where I met my boyfriend, Óli.

We have kept dancing ever since and have taken classes at Kramhúsið with Hany and Brýndis. Regular dances, called Milongas, are held at a number of halls in town and a festival in September and they are such fun to get dressed up and dance, especially in the winter when it is dark and snowy outside but warm, romantic and elegant inside.

You can find out more about tango in Iceland here and here.

Turin, Paris, Brittany, Normandy, London, Edinburgh

2005-10-31T12:01:00.000Z

In October 2005 I went to the MAEGS 14 Association of European Geological Societies natural hazards conference in Turin in Italy. On the way home I took a long weekend in France and went to Edinburgh to catch up with people there. I wouldn't recommend visiting three countries in the space of ten days or so. However, the french trip was fun. I went to my favourite bookshop "Shakespeare and Company" .. a beautiful independent bookshop in the Latin Quarter of Paris, with fascinating books and in a magical setting opposite Notre-Dame .. revisited family haunts in Carnac and along the Breton coastline and slept in my tent behind a hedge with a view of Mont St. Michael on my last night. It is fun how childhood memories enlarge the scale of everything. I had a great time and just needed it to be ten times as long.. so busy I seem to have no photos.

As for accommodation.. I stayed in hostels as usual and my tent. The youth hostel in Turin is exceptionally cheap, in a nice residential part of town and though not very central is still within walking distance of the centre. It has no kitchen facilities. The Aloha hostel in central Paris had a great location and friendly hostellers but was cramped and noisy at night. My tent is compact and usually has a great view.

Markarfljót and Gigjökull

2005-09-15T18:12:00.000Z

I´ve been helping out on the Geography, University of Edinburgh undergraduate fieldtrip. Students study palaeo-landscape reconstruction, ecological processes, geomorphology and glaciology, among other subjects. The field area, usually along the southern margin of the Markarfljót valley in southern Iceland in an area called Langanes and on two outlet glaciers from the ice-capped volcano Eyjafjallajökull, Steinsholtsjökull and Gigjökull, is one of my favourite places in Iceland. You can read about past flood events in this area, associated in some cases with eruptions of the volcano Katla, on my research page.

Landmannalaugur to Hrafntinnasker

2005-09-15T15:50:00.000Z

Fieldwork in usually about work, work, more work, though almost always in a stunning place, outside, in clean air doing fun things. For once I took a break, a weekend off .. and Nick and I had an adventure into some of Iceland´s most bizarre and stunning places. We had Flo the Landrover as our stead. We used her as our rather leaky tent at night and drove exciting mountain tracks to get to places that most tourists never see during the day. One day I´ll go back on foot with a proper timeframe for exploration. Ice, lava flows, green and yellow and orange rocks, steam and bubbling pools of mud, holes in the ground with steam that make sounds like a jet engine. Hrafntinnasker is so much more than I could have imagined; a wonderland. Add sunshine to the mix and it becomes almost unbelievably amazing.

Edinburgh to Iceland - the start of the adventure

2005-07-10T12:59:00.000Z

I was living in Edinburgh in Scotland, a lively cosmopolitan city.. there was sunshine and friends. Sometimes. I worked as a bookseller and occasional tutor and laboratory research assistant. But Iceland held an exotic appeal.. land of fire and ice! So I left, bought a big Landrover and filled it with all my belongings to the point of bursting and set off on my adventure. I didn't want to leave my friends and I miss you folk. It was a long required and partly desired time for something new.

So Iceland: I came by ferry from Aberdeen with my big green Landrover Defender Hard Top 110 called Flo, stopping off in Shetland, and visiting my friends Ruth and Jonathan. We had an dramatic walk along the beach to St. Ninian's Isle blasted by northern winds bent double to be able to make slow progress, feet sinking into the wet sand. Returning back to their new house was a delight.. new and clean and warm, painted red, with gloriously luxurious heated floors. In the deep of night I queued up, with other Landrovers, bicycles and passengers to catch the Smyril Line ferry to the Faroes and then ultimately to Iceland.

My first house in Iceland was one from a fairytale, perfectly fitting my image of life in Iceland.. blue corrugated iron, with pretty details above the window, wood-lined interior and views from the windows of the old town patchwork of sweetly-coloured toy houses. I really loved it. And my flatmate Karen ensured the most calm and warm welcome; a fine companion. To come home to the fairy-tale house with my peaceful flatmate was the best way to start a new life.