Jónsi

One evening Þórður nonchalantly mentioned an upcoming concert, and calmly suggested that we attend. Four seconds later he mentioned that it was a Jónsi concert, and two seconds after that I had purchased my tickets. What Þórður did not realize (or did realize but coyly played down) was that my unfaltering adoration for Sigur Rós might be the largest reason that I ever even considered Iceland as a possible destination. So, with that in mind, I will say that the performance was awe-inspiring, endearingly weird (and I mean weird), and made me cry. Unfortunately, none of my attempted photographs really came out as well as I would have liked, but I wanted to enjoy the experience more than I wanted to stare through a viewfinder so I happily put my camera away and enjoyed the spectacle.

Throughout the whole performance Jónsi was wearing a bizarre suit of straps and frills, and when he finished his set I could only imagine what his encore ensemble would entail. The man did not disappoint and emerged in a colorful Native American headdress that swayed hypnotically with his jerky, peculiar version of "dancing." Since I couldn't get any respectable photos out of the ordeal, here is my one attempt at capturing his garb:



And now here are photos that other people took that I greedily stole through the internet:







And finally here are 3 videos I took during the concert.

J.K. LOLing

On a blustery afternoon (actually, it was surprisingly calm), Caitlin took me on an adventure throughout the frosted expanses just a few miles outside of Reykjavík. I will admit now that I hold absolutely no discretion when choosing photographs to share, so while many of these images may be "unnecessary," "excessive," or even "uninteresting" (bite your tongue!), I refuse to be restricted by the potentially critical whims of my dedicated audience (this is when I say "hello" to my Mom again).



Here's the pipeline that brings warm, toasty water to the fine people of the greater Reykjavík areas.











Due to the ebbs and flows of Iceland's fjords in the winter, the thin frozen sheet of water present at high tides delicately settles in flaky layers during low tides.























Here's another example of the ice flakes. The rivers are just littered with these giant slabs of ice that curiously materialize out of nowhere, adding another plausible piece to the many mythical stories engulfed in Icelandic folklore.





Leaving the upper snowy mountains, Caitlin took me to a far more secluded and remarkable locale.



Beyond the driveway of a small and delightful farmhouse lies this secret fjord...completely isolated and equipped with a quintessential Icelandic luxury.



Out, far and away from the city awaits this beautiful hotpot...constantly brimming with steaming geothermal water, and safely sheltered in a nest of fjords and basalt beach.



The hotpot, endlessly supplied with this bubbling geothermal heat, needs a few modifications before plunging one's pink and frail body into earth's natural broiler. I was in charge of dumping out some of the scalding water, while Caitlin filled the pot with chilly water from the fjord. With the temperature stabilized we were free to enjoy what is easily one of the most picturesque sites I have ever had the pleasure of encountering.

It was Christmas awhile ago!

I think we've all learned by now that I am entirely incapable of keeping up a regular correspondence...

I didn't have much else to add to that statement. Just putting it out there.

Although Christmas happened awhile ago, there is still much Yuletide joy to be shared. In fact, only a few days ago did the last Yule Lad retire to his cozy mountain bungalow, chock full of candles that he apparently eats. Who am I to judge? I used to eat hot chocolate mix straight from the packet with a spoon. We all have our vices.



In order to celebrate properly we, of course, had to find ourselves a Christmas tree. Iceland, having materialized via the fire and brimstone straight out of our dear old Mid-Atlantic Ridge, is not one to boast many forests. Despite this setback, Iceland certainly supplies for those in need of naturey goodness so Evan and I set out for the Christmas Market in search of a tree that would do us proud.



The Christmas Market was actually a square we had frequented during the summer program, though my very busy lifestyle (read as: sitting at home) prevented me from updating any Rekyjavík excursions.

Cue: FLASHBACK

It's an interesting little courtyard, and we had a bomb diggity Surprise Cake Palooza in honor of Caitlin's birthday.



The graffiti is impressive, abundant, and vibrant, and people moseyed in and out of the park whether to relax or drink a few beers in the midnight sunshine.











And then one time these guys showed up, set up a cardboard cut-out of what can only be the Icelandic Brawny man, and started playing music.



FLASHFORWARD

All in all the market was quaint and enjoyable, though they made the mistake of hiring live music to perform for an inattentive and underwhelmed audience....This lead to what I assume were very sarcastic and self-effacing comments from the musicians, though my complete inability to comprehend Icelandic when spoken at a natural, human speed prevents my understanding of what's going on 95% of the time.



Either way, we found a wonderful tree and we named him Abner (and by "we" I mean "me," and by "named him" I mean "decided right now that he should have a name").



Here's the floppy cat that lived near our apartment, Black Kitty! (Þórður and I later discovered that there was a Black Kitty 2.0, but this one was far more floppy).





Here's a caroling parade that we encountered on Christmas Eve (I think?)



Evan, the proficient baker that he is, was in charge of making the skyrkaka (recipe??).



Here is Felix being adorable/explaining the importance of bicycle safety.



We bought a few cheap ornaments for the tree, as well some tiny jingle bells and string to attempt makeshift garlands. Evan popped some popcorn to make a garland as well, and Felix assisted by eating it.



Eventually Felix got full and Evan crafted a beautiful popcorn garland (are they even called garlands? I'm new to this Christmas terminology...I keep wanting to call them "lanyards" for some reason).



And theeeeen....CHRISTMAS



Evan got Felix a great music box!





Maik got a spanky new guitar,



and Felix got an equally spanky new ukulele



Here's the view from our apartment on Christmas morning:



And the view to the mountains:



Some precocious child created an eerily perfect snowman across the street.



Evan and I went on a Christmas Day walk, and found some cool places. The wind was intense and lifted my legs off the ground, and the early darkness mixed with the empty streets made Reykjavík an intensely spooky place.



Gotham City or Reykjavík?



This is entirely unrelated to Christmas, but here's Felix dressed up as a Heffalump...



XTREME HEFFALUMP! Sk8brd4lyfe.



Finally, here's Felix being better at technology than I am. He frequently commandeers Caitlin's iPad and surfs Youtube like it's his job. His favorite video is about Thomas the Tank Engine and he really likes the song...though really dislikes slow internet connections.



For those who are concerned, do not fret. I assure you he was able to watch the video in full a countless number of times. Countless.