Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.09.2011, Síða 6
6
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 14 — 2011 Do you wish he were YOUR mayor? Why/why not? We have a
fully functional letters page for you to tell us all about it.
Reykjavík | Welcome to!
Dear reader,
Welcome to Iceland. Whether you’re here for fun
and travel or for business, I hope you’ll enjoy a
good time here and will get to know some locals. I
would also like to make a special request that you
spend a lot of money throughout the duration of
your stay. Do not save on dining and drinking.
Allow yourself some luxury. You deserve it, and
it is good for the economy. I ask that you do not
visit the retail outlets run by the Salvation Army
(Garðastræti 6, 101 Reykjavík) or the Red Cross
(Laugavegur 12, 101 Reykjavík). Even though they
are fun shops, they are rather inexpensive. You
should rather visit more expensive shops.
A lot of tourists that visit the country wonder
why it is called Iceland, because—despite what the
name might indicate—it isn’t at all cold here. The
average temperature in Reykjavík is 1°C. Nowhere
in the world has better summers than Iceland. It
might snow in the month of June, however. That
is called ‘a spring snowfall’. July is the hottest
month. When it comes around you better have a t-
shirt handy, because the temperature can reach up
to 20°C. Weather.com often states a temperature
followed with a “feels like” temperature. When
the heat in Reykjavík reaches 20°C, they will of-
ten say it “feels like” 15°C. That is probably due to
something known as ‘the wind chill factor.’ No
Icelander understands this. If we had this “feels
like” feature in our weather reporting, we would
say that it “feels like” 40°C whenever the tempera-
ture reached 20°C, without exception. This dem-
onstrates the importance of ‘mentality’ and ‘atti-
tude.’
But how can it be that such a warm country
came to possess such a frigid name? Yes, the ex-
planation is simple: MISUNDERSTANDING. In-
gólfur Arnarson, the first man that found Reykja-
vík, wasn’t on his way here at all. He was en route
to the United States of America, to buy grapes and
other fast food that grew wild there in those days.
He was very interested in food. And also homicide.
On his way he noticed a cloud of smoke ascending
to the heavens from an unknown country. His cu-
rious nature got the best of him, and he changed
his course and set sail to Reykjavík (Reykjavík lit-
erally means “smoky bay”!).
As he disembarked his ship, he saw that the
smoke was in fact steam rising from Reykjavík’s
many swimming pools. He was therefore quick in
tearing off the suit of armour that he had worn
in case he’d encounter some Native Americans
while picking grapes, and jumping into some
swim trunks. After swimming a good 500 metres
he sat in the hot tub and relaxed. After a fun chat
with the locals he had forgotten all about America.
Who needs to travel all the way to America to pick
grapes when there’s a shop on Laugavegur called
Vínberið (Vínberið literally means: “the grape”)?
Ingólfur decided to settle here. He rented a small
apartment along with his wife, Hallveig Fróðadót-
tir, who many claim was the daughter of Frodo
from ‘Lord Of The Rings,’ Nothing has been prov-
en about that, however.
One day Ingólfur and Hallveig were taking a
stroll around town. They were walking their dog,
who was called Plútó and was a Great Dane. It was
a sizzling hot summer’s day. It was long before the
t-shirt was invented. They were both dressed in
full suits of armour, with swords and shields and
helmets and everything. They stopped by at Ísbúð
Vesturbæjar in Hagamelur to get some ice cream
and cool down. The story goes that Ingólfur asked
the clerk whether she knew what the country was
called.
She thought it was called Thule. Ingólfur felt
that was a stupid name.
“No country can be called Thule,” he said.
Outside the ice cream shop, a crowd had gath-
ered. They had heard that foreign visitors were in
town. A lot of those people were elves. Ingólfur
then approached the crowd, raised his ice cream
cone aloft and shouted:
“Henceforth this country will be called Ice-
land, because one can get the world’s best ice
cream here!”.
Today we have a statue of Ingólfur. The statue
depicts Ingólfur dying of heat, leaning on his dog.
Don’t be a stranger, be like Ingólfur!
Best regards,
Jón Gnarr
Mayor of Reykjavík
Mayor’s Address:
WELCOME TO REYKJAVÍK
Comic | Lóa Hjálmtýsdóttir