Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.10.2007, Blaðsíða 6

10 | Reykjavík Grapevine | Issue 16 2007 | Article
As regular Grapevine readers will know, Iceland is
not the best place for vegetarians. But newcomers
and old Reykjavík hangabouts alike may be inter-
ested to know just what challenges their animal and
environment friendly co-travellers face.
My friend Jan, a strict vegan, and I, a strict vegetar-
ian or relaxed vegan (I sometimes eat cheese and
do not check all food labels carefully while travel-
ling – yes, I am aware of my crimes) recently under-
took the challenge of touring Iceland while doing
our best to stick to our principles about food and
the environment.
As a strict vegan, Jan does not only bypass
meat, he doesn’t eat any animal products – wheth-
er meat, milk, or by-products that no one would
think of, such as gelatine in gummi bears. He also
has the annoying habit of reading every food prod-
uct label intensely, and not trusting anyone about
food content. Even after I assure him that the food
I have chosen for our trip is strictly vegan, he in-
sists on re-reading all labels and then asking me
for translations of words he does not know in Ger-
man. The rest of our team, however, is happy to eat
any product that may or may not have to do with
animal cruelty, environmental degradation, non-
sustainable agricultural practices, over-fishing...
hell, I imagine they would happily eat endangered
whale species or virgin nuns of Mother Teresa’s or-
der if they were cooked with a greasy, spicy sauce,
attractively packaged and available as fast food at
convenient locations.
Adventures at Sea
The difficulties begin already on the ferry from
Bergen, Norway, to the Faroe Islands and finally
Seyðisfjörður on the East coast of Iceland. The ferry
offers a splendid buffet breakfast and dinner – all
you can eat, as long as it’s seafood. There is also
the on-board cafeteria, which offers a dizzying ar-
ray of sandwiches. I had no idea that bread could
be topped in so many ways, especially when all
of the toppings are fish. Not to worry, though, I do
just fine with the instant noodles I smuggled with
me. Basically, the ferry journey has been exposed
as nothing more than a clever trick of the fishing
industry board to sell off their overstocks to a cap-
tive audience.
Fellow traveller Uwe, however, seems to be
doing just fine with the approximately 17 kg of Ger-
man sausage he has brought on board. Bratwürst,
bockwürst, salami, various types and sizes of hard
and soft sausage, as well as spreadable liver paté in
a glass jar. Sausage for breakfast, sausage for lunch,
a light sausage snack during the day, and of course,
after every meal, a nice bit of sausage.
By the time we reach port in Seyðisfjörður,
Uwe voluntarily and proudly gives up the remain-
ing kilos of sausage to the customs inspectors.
He can eat no more. This is the moment we had
feared from the beginning, in fact. Tourists are
only allowed to bring 3 kg of their own food with
them into Iceland. Jan and I had carefully chosen
items we thought might be difficult to get in Ice-
land, and things which carry the maximum value
for weight: yeast powder (a must for B vitamins),
vegetable-based bouillon, organic peanut butter,
various seeds, nuts, and dried fruits, dried organic
soya curds (high protein!), various organic beans,
partially dried tomatoes, etc. Now the authorities
were checking us, and we knew too well that it eas-
ily exceeded the allowed amount.
Luckily, Uwe’s voluntary sausage surrender,
quickly followed by my spontaneous capitulation
of 12 raw eggs the others in our group had insisted
on buying in Norway, convinces the customs offi-
cials of our honesty and we pass, nutritionally un-
scathed.
Icelandic Specialities
Our first few days are uneventful. Our food supplies
are adequate, and the others even seem to accept
my cooking for the group. No one has even noticed
that I use no animal products in the food, apart
from Uwe, who has bought meat at the first oppor-
tunity. After each meal, he goes back into one of his
various rucksacks and travel bags and fetches his
allotment of sausage.
Another member of our travel team, Chris
from England, happily eats just about anything, in-
sisting that as long as he gets some greens every
few days, he will remain healthy, regardless of the
rest of his diet. And he sticks to this philosophy as
strictly as Jan and I stick to ours. He is keen to try
the local specialities, and at every stop along the
way he manages to come out of the petrol station/
grocer/fishing tackle shop/kiosk (I am not describ-
ing a variety of places, but here the versatility of
every shop in Iceland – they have taken the “one
stop shop” ethos to its logical limit) with some sort
of locally packaged delicacy. In this respect he is
ahead of Jan and I, who according to our own
philosophy try to buy as local as possible, thus not
supporting the environmental damage caused by
the long distance shipping and trucking of foods,
as well as avoiding multinational mega companies,
which typically are very anti-environment players
on the world stage.
Sadly, much of the food labelled as organic
in Iceland is shipped thousands of kilometres from
Germany, thus defeating the very purpose of or-
ganic foods. Chris, though, manages to outflank us
at every turn, coming out of one shop in particular
with something called Hákarl, which reeks of male
cat urine, or perhaps something a pregnant female
moose sprays on trees to mark her territory. In any
case, he informs us that this very Icelandic concoc-
tion of putrefied shark meat had the advantage for
the Vikings that even carrion-eating birds would not
touch it, and he soon finds that it is equally safe from
the rest of the team. Later he samples Svið, known as
head cheese in English, to much the same success.
We applaud his cultural sensitivity, and secretly envy
the strength of his digestive system.
The Bread Challenge
As our imported supplies run low, we start relying
more on Icelandic food. To be more accurate, we
start relying on food bought in Iceland. We were
disappointed to learn that so many products are
imported, and as long as they are allowed to make
the long ship journey from Denmark, why are tour-
ists not generally allowed to bring in their own
food? This would at least save a trip or two, and all
the diesel exhaust that this inevitably causes.
We do manage to find cucumbers and Chi-
nese cabbage grown in Iceland, and buy it despite
its higher price than lettuce and other vegetables
imported from Denmark. Bread is another prob-
lem. While elsewhere in the world butter in bread is
seen as something special, try to find an Icelandic
bread without smörlíki. In the end we settle for a
nice brown bread that looks rather hearty but turns
out to be a sweet bread. It goes fine with peanut
butter or jam, but does not compliment soups very
well.
With most of our food issues solved, we go on
with the last stage of our trip. One of our final stops
is Húsavík, where we plan to go whale watching.
While most people would regard this as an inher-
ently pro-environment thing to do, as the harmless
act of simply watching and photographing whales
has replaced hunting and killing them, Jan is, pre-
dictably, sceptical. As we read the pamphlets of two
competing whale watching firms which boast of
incredible sighting rates (99.1%?!?!) on their boat
tours, Jan’s vegan fantasy starts working, and he
insists that the whales must have been fitted with
radio senders to achieve this. Worse yet, he asserts,
as the pure girth of a whale’s neck would make a
radio collar as used on, say, wolves, utterly prepos-
terous, any radio sender would be some sort of de-
vice which is attached be being shot through the
whale’s flipper.
When we ask the young man at the whale
watching booth about this, his eyes widen in in-
credulous surprise at our query, and he responds
with aplomb and diplomacy (by this I mainly mean
that he manages not to laugh in our faces), not to
mention flawless English, stating that the captain
did once drop a radio into the water, but the whales
have yet to give any response.
All in all, I can report that, contrary to my own
scepticism, it is possible to visit Iceland and main-
tain your vegan or vegetarian principles. You will
need to adapt, to accept a diet of reduced variety
and at times unusual combinations. You will need
to learn to read Icelandic ingredients and expect
animal products lurking in unusual places. But
you will NOT need to compromise your principles
by piercing, fitting with radio collars, or harming
whales in any other way.
Text by Daniel Vallin
Vegan Iceland?
He informs us that this
very Icelandic concoction
of putrefied shark meat
had the advantage for the
Vikings that even carrion-
eating birds would not
touch it.
Imported organic juices at a local organic store.
Photo by GAS
www.listasafnreykjavikur.is Tel +354 590 1200 listasafn@reykjavik.is Fax +354 590 1201
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Reykjavik Art Museum
Open daily 10–17.
Free entrance on Thursdays.
One admission ticket is valid for three days
in Hafnarhús, Kjarvalsstaðir and Ásmundur
Sveinsson Sculpture Museum.
The Icelandic Love Corporation
Hafnarhús
31 August – 21 October
Gjörningaklúbburinn
Kjarvalsstaðir
8 September – 4 November
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