Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.08.2010, Blaðsíða 38

22
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12 — 2010
It’s been already two months since I
left my hometown in Austria to work
as the programme coordinator at RIFF
(Reykjavík International Film Festival),
and Iceland already feels very familiar. I
jumped into the cold water of alienation
and was warmly welcomed by the city
and its inhabitants.
I soon discovered that Reykjavík and
Iceland have so much more to offer than
the standard tourist package (Blue La-
goon, whale watching, Golden Circle,
Þingvellir—all are great experiences by
the way). You will find an exhilarating
culture, art and music scene; excellent
food and a Dionysian nightlife; more-
over you can contemplate mind-blowing
landscapes and a spectacular animal
life. I’ve had some fun, and I’d like to
share some of my experiences with you
Grapevine readers.
My friend Addi and I just went on
a spontaneous road trip to the West-
fjords, which is a mountainous, hardly
populated area in the northwest corner
of Iceland. You should most definitely
check out Látrabjarg, which is the most-
western part of Europe and its largest
bird cliff (120–440 metres), which is
home to millions of birds such as puf-
fins, gannets, guillemots and razorbills.
Just make sure you don’t fall of the edge.
We slept somewhere in the grass-
land opposite Patreksfjörður on a bed of
moss, and witnessed the midnight sun-
set (which is one of the most amazing
sights ever), while playing the guitar and
eating one-way BBQ. The next day I felt
like Colin McRae as we drove to Þingeyri
on dirt roads, that are barely passable
on a Toyota Corolla, it was sheer lunacy
(no guard railing, steep ravines and
huge rocks lying on the road)!
We visited my Danish friend Janne
and her Belgian boyfriend Wouter, who
opened up the most jovially and home-
like coffeehouse the world has ever seen
(it’s called Simbahöllin, and the five year
renovation was totally worth it), so if you
want to taste the most delicious, exqui-
site, mouth-watering Belgian waffles
(with jam and whipped cream or choco-
late) make sure not to miss this place.
Our last destination was Ísafjörður,
capital of the West fjords, where we at-
tended a hip hop show by MC Erpur Ey-
vindarson (from Icelandic hip hop leg-
ends XXX Rottweiler), who let me spit
some spontaneous rhymes on his still-
popular club banger ‘Viltu dick’ (“Do
you want dick?”) and later introduced
me to the infamous, home-made booze
called ‘Landi’ or ‘Moonshine’, which, if
not properly made, can make you blind.
On our 12-hour ride back home,
coming straight from the post-afterpar-
ty get-together, I tried to chase a sheep
and failed epically. All in all, I would
recommend going to West fjords to any-
one who is looking for adventure and
breathtaking scenery.
I didn’t know what to expect when
I arrived in this arcane, mysterious,
moonlike country eight weeks ago, but
in retrospect, I’d like to quote Milos For-
man (who was the honorary guest of
last year’s RIFF) who said: “In compari-
son to Iceland, the moon seems quite
boring.”
Jakob Kattner (AKA Big J) is a rapper, jour-
nalist, producer and currently working as pro-
gramme coordinator at the Reykjavik Interna-
tional Film Festival.
Opinion | Iceland
diving Into Iceland
An Austrian in Iceland
Opinion | Tourists
What Not To Wear
The unique fashion of Iceland’s tourists
During my time in Reykjavík, it has
become quite clear that something is
severely wrong with Iceland’s tourist
population. “Whatever is the matter?”
you might wonder. I’m talking of course
about the misconception they all seem
to carry about what to pack when com-
ing to this fine country.
Summer means tourist hunting sea-
son and boy, do they have yet to evolve
a proper Scandinavian camouflage.
Someone seems to have told everyone
who steps off an international flight in
Keflavík that downtown Reykjavík has
treacherous mountain ranges at every
turn and boasts an average temperature
of 0°C. At least, that’s the explanation I
can come up with when puzzled by the
odd state of dress of our foreign friends.
Everywhere you look, the feet of
these outsiders are clad in hiking boots,
their torsos covered in thick layers of
Gore-Tex, and their backs hunched for-
ward by the weight of backpacks the
size of obese children. They really are
hard to miss.
Perhaps they want everyone to know
they aren’t Icelandic? Maybe they figure
they have no chance of being mistaken
for a local? Or, is it really that they just
don’t want to risk having to try out those
awkward Icelandic phrases they learned
and instead wish to be spoken to in Eng-
lish right away? I’m really not sure.
These globetrotters seem to en-
joy walking around looking like they’re
ready for extreme winter sports or a
blizzard at the drop of a hat. Don’t they
realise that it’s summertime here in the
Northern hemisphere? Were they not
aware that Icelanders dress fashionably
too? I mean, okay, sometimes people
dress a little odd, creative even, but defi-
nitely not like they walked out of a North
Face advert. At least not all the time.
Where exactly are these visitors get-
ting the idea that they need to be pre-
pared for every climate all the time? Yes,
Iceland is notorious for its harsh, rugged
landscape and the saying “if you don‘t
like the weather just wait five minutes
and it will change,” is well known, but
does that automatically mean you have
to dress like that poor kid in A Christmas
Story? I guess so.
If you’re reading this, lamenting over
the fact that you only packed those wa-
terproof hiking boots and fleece pull-
overs, don’t fret—you can always head
to the Red Cross shops and find some
cheap duds. That is, if you’ve got some
krónur to spare. If not, just tough it out,
you don’t have to look like a local. Now,
you know better for next time.
If, on the other hand, you’re prepar-
ing for a trip to this northern island, take
heed and place some fancy rags right
next to your snow pants! Icelanders can
be pretty snazzy dressers, even if the
colour black dominates their wardrobe.
ALLISON SAvAGE
JULIA STAPLES
JAKOB KATTNER
JAKOB KATTNER
To the tourists pictured: We're really sorry.
It's nothing personal, OK. We just needed a
photo to go with it.
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