So I guess you could say that my
third trip was always going to be a matter of when as opposed to ‘if’ I was to
return. I decided to give the summer period a miss in 2011 mainly because my
passport would be away with the Home Office as I finalised my British
citizenship. By the time it had arrived back and I had finally (after six and a
half years) achieved British Citizen status I was well and truly ready for the
trip back to the place that was slowly beginning to really feel like home. It
would also allow me to stay longer as the accommodation rates drop dramatically
later on in the year. As the Airwaves Festival falls in October over five
nights I decided that this would be a good time to go. A pass for the five
nights cost 13,500 ISK which is a pretty sweet deal and would be a great way to
get to know more of the town’s venues.
Having had an uncomfortable
experience going through Heathrow last time around I decided to try a different
approach. I booked with Iceland Express who had attempted to set up a direct
route from Belfast in 2011 but wound up putting it off for a year. This time I
would transfer through Gatwick and see how that went. Going in October allowed
me to book eleven nights at the Hotel Cabin for £252. This would give me the
five nights of the festival and plenty of time to do whatever else I wanted to
get up to. Visiting Harpa would be on the agenda which I would do as part of
the festival as would a day doing the South Shore Adventure with Reykjavík
Excursions. Shopping would also be necessary for some new cold weather gear.
There would also be a lot of photo taking and a little writing to be done this
time around.
Finally the weather has turned up
as I have always expected it might. The first night in town was peaceful enough
but the following morning I woke up to an outdoor sound that reminded me of the
road works back in Belfast that had been going on up and down the Lisburn Road
for a week before I left. It was the wind. Wales were winning against the Irish
in the World Cup Quarter Finals and France were just about to beat England,
with or without the wind.
The Iceland Airwaves festival proved
to be a revelation, I had no idea that such a small place could have so many
great bands. Vicky, Skúli Mennski, Cliff Clavin, Endless Dark, the talented
Valgeir Sigurðsson, the enormously likeable Dikta and the fucking incredible
Norwegian outfit Honningbarna.
October in Iceland; the ground is
nearly always wet and the girls are impossibly beautiful. If the wind’s not
knocking you off your feet then they most certainly will. Speaking of beautiful
sights, one night walking home the Northern Lights gave a brief, green display
over the harbour. It truly is a magical place.
After the wind had died down the
two days leading up to the festival were beautiful weather-wise and I decided
to take full advantage of them. The Monday I did the South Shore Adventure
which took us to Skógur, past Eyjafjallajökull all the way down to Vík and the
incredible black sand beach nearby with its basalt columns and other-worldly
surf. On the way back we visited Skógafoss and Seljalandsfoss, both stunning
waterfalls and we also walked up to the base of a nearby glacier. On the way
down we passed through Selfoss and Hella and on the way back the guide pointed
out the final resting place of Bobby Fischer my favourite, crazy chess grandmaster.
The Tuesday I went horse riding at
Íshestar Riding Tours near Hafnarfjörður. The day was another stunning
afternoon and I can now fully appreciate the attraction that people have
towards horses. The connection between horse and rider is a truly beautiful
thing. My horse was called Hoppiloss. The trail took us through the lava fields
weaving in between people’s little summerhouses. One of the guides was one of
the most stunningly pretty women I’ve ever met. This trip would be the one when
I would fully appreciate the intense appeal of Icelandic women.
Before the festival kicked off I
checked out Bíó Paradís and saw ‘Carlos: The Movie’. The theatre reminded me of
Charlie Gray’s from the 1980s in Auckland. The first festival moment was seeing
‘Everything, Everywhere, All The Time’ which was a great insight into some
local artists and introduced me to the work of Valgeir Sigurðsson who composed
one of the pieces that I would see performed at Harpa the following night. The
Wednesday night I waited patiently (too patiently as it would turn out) for the
wind and the rain to die down before heading down to NASA to see Sykur. By the
time I’d arrived there was a huge queue around Austurvöllur Square waiting to
get in and I gave up and went to Harpa instead. As I was getting there the
crowd from Björk’s first gig was getting out and this would be the night that I
discovered Dikta who are still quite possibly my favourite Icelandic act
(still).
The next night was in the concert
chamber at Harpa which was even more incredible than the photos had led me to
believe. The place is spectacular to look at, sounded great and had a really
intimate feel to it despite being so big. All of a sudden the Ulster Hall in
Belfast looked really sad.
Out the back of Harpa in the
exhibition space I discovered a series of documentaries on Nick Cave and the
making of three of his albums which had recently been re-mastered being played
around the clock for anyone to watch. Interviews with band members, producers
and friends about the making of The First Born Is Dead, Tender Prey and The
Boatman’s Call were an incredibly unexpected treat about a truly inspirational
man.
The Friday I decided to go see Dikta
again at Hemmi og Valdi’s, a tiny Café on Laugavegur before heading down to
Gaukur á Stöng nice and early to settle in for a night of rock ‘n roll. The
bands started with the incredibly sexy Vicky and then continued with the weird
and wonderful Cliff Clavin. Then came the almighty Honningbarna and the night
was finished off by Endless Dark.
I managed to get all my location
photos done for my first novel while I was there and can now see all the places
where the story takes place which is a great help. I went back to Bíó Paradís
one last time to see ‘Midnight in Paris’ which completely rekindled my passion
for Woody Allen. The overwhelming feeling as I left once again was that I
already missed the place and despite the terrible weather I wanted to live
there. Badly.
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