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After the Wedding

Before the Wedding

Ísland Diaries, Part 6

Note: Cat's text is in the normal color, Gregg's is in light blue.

Day 6: 31th July

Reykjavik, Caving, Falafel, and Our Attempts to Party

One thing we learned from this trip was how to combine our two vacation styles. I wanted to be more laid-back, but actually looking at stuff, in the city while C. wanted to be hiking. Neither of us knew, or fully articulated these feelings before we got there, so we had some friction each morning as we planned what to do with each day. By this point in the trip, we had learned, and planned our last few days well. Our plan for today was:

Architecture Pics of Reykjavik
Cook lunch at the apartment / use up food
Caving
Falafel at Kebabhusið
Sleep
GLBT Center
Attempt to Club/Party

We began the morning by walking around our neighborhood, and taking pictures of interesting things. (BTW, the only good online map of Rvk we could find is here: http://www.backman.is/mapofrvk/, if you want to follow along at home. Our street in is Section 8, just west of the big church.)

This is our street, Baldursgata – that's Baldur's Gate for all the CRPG fans. The building visible is another guest house, that was next door to our apartment.

Rvk was such a weird mix of styles. Most things were sorts of a "saltbox modern" but there were some oddities. Halldór Laxness' house was actually sort of prairie style modern. Then we saw this weird Russian thing, and thought we should snap a pic of it. We did a lot of walking between our place and the commerical downtown and tried to vary our route, so I don't exactly remember where this was. The lake, however, it easy to find on Section 7 of the map. On its north side is the Reykjavik City Hall. This is the view from the east side (in front of the National Art Gallery) looking west.

The Hotel Borg &ndash We just thought this was funny. Resistence is fulile. You will be accomodated.

The Cafe Paris accross the street from the Hotel Borg (at Aðalstræti and Austurstræti). The night before we'd had a wonderful slice of cake there. In the park visible to the left, I saw the first homeless person of the trip, but now I think he was just a slob, and shabbily dressed. He went inside one of the expensive restaurants nearby, and I saw him eating a meal, like a regular customer, so who knows? The other pictures are of an Rvk manhole cover (square, seems dangerous), and the Íslandspostur (Icelandic Post Office) building. Cathy loved the Post while she was there. The have this wonderful burnt brick color scheme on all the buildings, boxes, and vans. Our post to the U.S. took about 9 days (including weekends), which seems pretty typical. It would longer from outside Reykjavik, probably.

From the north side of the lake, we could look back at the art museum (on the left), and the Church at Fríkirkvegur and Skothúhusvegur where turn to go back to our apartment. Visible on the left is the bar where we saw the drunken crowd later on. Near that turn, we saw this dirt soccer field tucked in behind the national youth sports ministry. This neighborhood was full of the apparatus of the national government. Then back to our little street, and our little apartment. Yes, this is how people park in Iceland -- on the sidewalk! We never knew what was allowed, and what wasn't. In the main commercial street, Laugavegur, people parked on the brick sidewalk, and there were meters. It was very strange. Also, people park facing whatever way they want on two way streets, on either side. What a mess! Cat is just visible from our stoop.

We returned the apartment to cook our pesto pasta mix, and everything was on track. Then onto caving. We returned to the main office of the Atlantic Hotel to wait for our shuttle from the tour company. At the booking office (www,this.is/iceland), the girl (a Carlson School of Business student, believe it or not), told us to be ready at 12.30. On webisites for the tour, we had seen times like 1 and 1:30 p.m. At 1, I started getting anxious. Cathy had this delusional idea that people were trying to rip us off, and it was all a sham. I kept trying to call Reykjavik Excursions to see what the problem was. There was no answer. Of course, the problem was that I had booked the tour through Iceland Excursions, a perhaps understandable mistake.

Our situation while waiting didn't help. The proprietor and his man-boy were continuing their wide-ranging argument, I couldn't get through on the phone, and there was this maddening smell of fresh pasty that I just couldn't track down. Our lunch had been a bit light, and I was hungry. We were already fantasising about the cheap (in Icelandic terms) falafel that would be our dinner. So every five minutes, I would get up from the kerb and look around. I never did find the place. I did find a bagel shop (nope!), a strip joint (Bohem), a bathhouse (whether medicinal or otherwise theraputic was unclear) and the local Domino's Pizza. At 1:14, though, an IE bus pulled up, helmed by a doughy Icelandic teenager, and we were off.

The weirdest part of this excursion was the tour office. The little shuttle drove us and trio of Low Country teenagers to a gas station on Miklabraut. There, the IE mobile office awaited us, pictured below. Inside was a working office, with a man and a ticket booth, and a waiting room. It was thoroughly strange. Having already bought out tickets, we were free to hang out. We went in to the gas station (Orkan brand), and had our best interaction with Icelanders. We try to enter but the door is stuck. Inside we see the man and woman working start doing this little arm-waving dance. In an epiphany, we realize that this means to push the door instead of pulling. The mention that all Icelandic exterior doors act this way, and we realize that they are right.

Having already bought out tickets, we were free to hang out. We went in to the gas station (Orkan brand), and had our best interaction with Icelanders. We try to enter but the door is stuck. Inside we see the man and woman working start doing this little arm-waving dance. In an epiphany, we realize that this means to push the door instead of pulling. The mention that all Icelandic exterior doors act this way, and we realize that they are right. What a concept! Didn't they learn from Apollo 1? I buy an orange juice, and we discuss junk food. Every candy and drink they suggest sounds disgusting to us. Cat wants a marzipan bar. They suggest orange drink, and he suggested Egil's Malt Extract Drink, which he has heard is "sort of like your root beer, but I've never had root beer". We were (slightly) tempted, but not stuck with our original choices. These two should be the travel ambassadors of Iceland! The time came, and we boarded the new bus.

Then, in the bus, our guides ask, who has been around? Have you seen Þhingvellir? About half the bus said no, so it was Þhingvellir, again, for the third time!

Once were were at the caves, things were great. The cave entrance was just to the east of the Þhingvellir visitors center, on the north side of the road. Into our orange 66° dry clothes and in we went. It was a lava tube, and completely undeveloped. The rocks were damn sharp basalts, and there was no evidence of erosion inside. However, there were th beginning of formations, mostly flowstone.

On the way back, we stopped for pylsa (hot dog), which I ate some of... it wasn't very interesting. The real pylsa action is in Rvk, where they have "American-style" dogs, which have toppings like red sauce and pepperoni, and other such things I have never seen on an American dog.

We returned to Rvk, and went back to the apartment. By now at 7pm or so, we were damn hungry and looking forward to our falafel. We walked downtown, taking some pics along the way, including the German / British Embasssy (they share the same building), and "Bernie" (my name for him anyway) the Kraut bear pointing out taht it's 2380 km to Berlin. The U.S. Embassy prohibits pics near it, so we wisely moved on.

Finally, we arrived at Kebabhusið (this pic is from later on that night, though!), and find the three teenage girls working there struggling under the load. The line goes out the door. Meals were 650Isk or so ($9, a bargain, for the quanitity), and I get fish and chips, and C. get falafel, and we are excited. Damn, it was good to get some greasy tasty fresh battered fish. Mmmm... we stop at the 10-11 (the local convenience store) and get breakfast for the next day. Then it's to home and napping before going out.

As for going out... We hoped to make some friends, drink a little, and see the town alive. We got up at 11pm or so, well rested, and headed out. The night before, the barkeep at the Jón Forseti had told us there would be a drag show. He didn't mention it was $10/head, so we skipped it. We did make it to the GLBT Community Center, and its library, which were awesome. Their library has been accessioned into the national library system, so books can be ordered all around Iceland! If only some private libraries here in the Cities were like that! Then we walked around and around, stopping places that looked fun. We were up until about 2 before we accepted taht smoky bars and expensive beer just isn't really our thing. It would have been nice to have a guide, but that is life.

What was important was that we were together, and our fighting was done. We were both fully participating in the trip, and thinking about how good the future together would be. And it was dark. For the first time, it was dark! On our way home we saw a drunken gathering outside a concert, and they were lame, lame. Totally drunk, with broken beer bottles everywhere. And we had wanted to spent time with people like that? Shame on us. As for the crowd... they looked like mix of Ukrainian hookers and Strokes stunt doubles.

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Last Updated: February 07, 2005 -- 17:19:02.
Time since the wedding: 2197 days 23 hours