Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.07.2011, Qupperneq 31

Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.07.2011, Qupperneq 31
31 The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 11 — 2011 The Viking Tavern In Reykjavík restaurant & bar VÍKINGAKRÁIN - HAFNARSTRÆTI - TEL+ 354 861 7712 WWW.VIKINGAKRAIN.IS Let’s talk Iceland The history of Iceland in one funny hour shown every day at 8pm Viking market Handmade Icelandic design for sale outside open when the weather allows Noodle soup with chicken IKR 930 IKR 930 Noodle soup with beef Home of the best noodle soup! Skólavörðustígur 21A “It’s out of my hands,” he says. There are plenty of grills in stock, which is more than I can say for the ostensibly waning condom reserves behind the counter. VÞ 18:00 Between acts I decide to stroll down the main drag Austurvegur, and pay a visit to Arní Sveinsson (director of Backyard). People huddled together between vehicles; the scene is reminis- cent of a tailgate—the guzzling of booze and blasting of disco beats. There is a small fold up table littered with beer cans, cigarette fixings, and mittens sur- rounded with foldout chairs and stolen seats from the guesthouse kitchen. I had joined them with the assumption that dinner was next on schedule, but once the pint of vodka is introduced, the bad stories and ski gear keep piling on. Though the sun provided light, the evening air had an unforgiving nip. The idea of a steadfast meal was no longer a main concern. Following a bout of ban- ter about Arnþrúður’s attire and her il- logical choice for fashion over comfort, we finally conclude to venture to the local restaurant and hotel, Skaftfell. ML 20:00 A group of four bickering, mid- fifties women occupy the table next to ours, and are clearly at home amidst the buzzing energies of small children and drunken customers. They are all residents of Seyðisfjörður, and wel- come me whole-heartedly to join them. The festival is something they had seen grow from a small gathering estab- lished by bored art-deprived teenag- ers, into a full-blown festival attracting Icelanders from across the country. “I think this festival is wonderful,” one woman comments enthusiastically. “To have so many young people come here for a whole week and work on art has really created quite the hype for this town,” she adds. “Yes, but it would be interesting to see how much it costs this town in the end,” argues the scep- tic of the bunch. “Last year there was a lot of drunken partying going on and I know it cost a lot to regulate and fix damages.” ML 00:00 People are desperate to forget, aren’t they? I mean, entire countries are founded on a certain historical forget- fulness. The washing away of the blood spilled the night before. And isn’t it just so that we dive head first into the deep end of alcoholic oblivion? Where we can adopt a new persona, discover an internal landscape where the world melts into something bigger than our tiny, muddled heads—something more expansive and exotic than this tiny is- land? VÞ 00:30 Outside Herðubreið, I witness a ‘balloon shakedown’ as a young man climbs onto the roof of the awning and snatches the string of one of the yellow helium balloons fastened to the house. A woman in red—a red fleece—comes tearing through the crowd, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him as she presses her face to his. VÞ 01:00 Horseplay and drunken buf- foonery are indeed major themes of this festival, and provide an easy playing field for singles. Come the A.M. hours smooching and ‘knúsing’ envelope the premises, especially at the local bar Lára. It is jam packed and even offers special LungA cocktails, which natu- rally include a double shot. ML 02:00 At Láran—the ‘kaffibarinn of the east’—someone is shouting: “I’m not backwards, you see. I’m not back- wards like a sailor!” Outside there are ‘security’ everywhere, not cops, but men walking around in vests, patrolling parking lots, picking up bottles from the street. The sound of breaking glass somehow manages not to be sinister in this environment. VÞ 03:00 The bridge serves as a kind of runway as people drunkenly pass back and forth between the dance at Herðu- breið and Láran, on the way perhaps stopping to greet friends, perhaps look- ing for a moment out at the still water. A man passes by me with a beer in every available pocket. He eyes me and ev- eryone around me leeringly, as though looking to pick a fight. A moment later a very drunk girl, being carried by one of her friends, accidentally kicks someone in the face. VÞ 03:30 Back from smoking a cigarette at the dance, my friend looks visibly agitated, and says he has just been told that he deserves to be punched for be- ing from Reykjavík. VÞ 04:00 Daníel Ágúst performs the 1999 GusGus song 'Ladyshave' with sup- port from the Hjaltalín band. Urður Hákonardóttir, Sigríður Thorlacius and President Bongo singing backup vocals into a single microphone, swaying in tandem, snapping with one hand, drink in the other. Everyone is dripping with sweat, clothes drooping off them, sexy, serious. VÞ 05:00 Not being aware of the track record, someone else attempts to nab the helium balloon as his friends watch on. Yet another player on defence shuts him down, this one clearly a civilian. VÞ 06:00 A group of spun motherfuck- ers are gathered on a patch of grass. Avoiding sleep is like a teasing game at this point. We join in belting out Sub- lime, and rolling around on our backs. "What time is it?" "Uh, I think almost six" "Shit. I got a plane to catch at 11:00" "Want some magic mushrooms?" "Fuck it, why not?" ML SUNDAY 13:00 The rain finally fell. Sitting at the kitchen table of the old lady’s house— the woman we had never seen but who had graciously donated us her space; the woman we had probably been keeping awake for two days now—I look out the open door. The fog, which had been blanketing us for days, has finally come to enfold us, and my eyes can't reach beyond the inlet. The water still, the campsite abandoned, nothing left in the house but an empty 2 Litre Coke bottle. The door unlocked as it had al- ways been. VÞ Flight provided by Air Iceland. Air Iceland flights are to Egilsstaðir then a 20 minutes drive to Seyðisfjörður. Book flight at www.airiceland.is or phone +354-5703000
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