These forthcoming entries under the
title ‘A Day Late and a Dollar Short’ were originally written as brief journal
entries detailing my first five or six visits to Iceland. The first of these date
back to 2009 and then there is one every year after that until I decided to
stop commuting here every year from my base in Belfast in Northern Ireland and
just settle down where I really wanted to be. I am going to read through them
again as I haven’t read many of them for some time now and make a few
alterations based on my observations about the differences between visiting
here as a tourist and actually living here as a permanent resident. Hopefully
all this will go some way to explaining how it was that I ended up here which,
if I’m not mistaken, was the whole point behind this blog in the first place.
Coming as I do from New Zealand I
guess I’ve always had a thing for small, remote islands. They always seem to be
inhabited by the most interesting people. My first visit to Iceland was in June
2009. My 40th birthday, a treat. It was a place that I’d always wanted to go
but had always found the cost prohibitive. Their recent banking meltdown in 2008
had reduced the value of the króna to a point where it was now affordable.
Since then of course it has rapidly become one of the most popular tourist destinations
on earth with possibly over a million visitors expected in 2015. This is a
pretty rapid increase in visitor numbers and considering that the population
here is only just over 300,000 people, it’s a lot of visitors.
Of course being my first trip to
Iceland I did all the touristy things: walks along the seashore, a trip to the
local swimming baths with their communal showers and naked locals, lobster
pizza and fish stew in a city centre café, a day out to the Geyser area and
Gullfoss, a lazy afternoon at the Blue Lagoon, catfish and cod for dinner, and
of course those greatest of Icelandic delicacies; hotdogs. I think they played
their part in convincing me to move to Reykjavík, you could indeed eat them for
the rest of your life.
I heard an American describe
Reykjavík as a town full of Christmas houses, not far from the truth. For a
city that has virtually no wood involved in any of its construction it does
look rather Christmassy with its heavily slanted roofs and corrugated iron walls.
I’ve also heard it described as clean and well organized which is also true.
Two very good qualities in my opinion. If that American guy thought it looked
Christmassy in the middle of June he should have seen it at Christmas time. It’s
very impressive. In order to brighten up the place during the months and months
of long dark nights everyone really goes to town with the Christmas lights.
Every window in town is lit up and a good few trees as well just for good
measure.
In the same way that the island has
been formed by the coming together of the European and American tectonic plates
there seems to be a cultural convergence as well between everything European
and all things Americans. Lots of American cars, bikes and vans imported during
the long American presence through the Cold War and beyond give the place a
look not dissimilar to an American TV show some Saturday evenings in summer
when loads of people cruise the middle of town in their cars in much the same
way that the kids did in ‘American Graffiti’.
Yet despite these pointers to American
television the place is definitely European. Geography does a great deal to
define nations and their history and I guess it’s been that way for Iceland too
stuck out here in the middle of the North Atlantic removed from continental
Europe but not really that close to North America either. The mixture of the
two is rather likeable. A wonderful combination of tradition and modern ways
that gives the city a cute feel but with every modern convenience you could
possibly think of at your disposal.
(To be continued)
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