Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.01.2015, Síða 29

Opening hours September — May
9:00 — 18:00 weekdays
10:00 — 17:00 saturdays
12:00 — 17:00 sundays
Aðalstræti 10, Reykjavík
Museum of Design and Applied Art, Garðabær
(354) 517 7797 — kraum@kraum.is
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WELCOME TO APOTEK RESTAURANT
Apotek Restaurant is a new and exciting restaurant located in one of
Reykjavíks most historical buildings in Austurstræti 16. Apotek is a
casual smart restaurant, offering delicious food in vibrant atmosphere
and stylish surroundings.
The menu is a fun mix of Icelandic and European cuisine with a smoking
hot Argentinean grill.
Must try dishes are our Icelandic rack of lamb, fresh seafood and
60 days dry aged rib eye.
APOTEK RESTAURANT Austurstræti 16 101 Reykjavík apotek@apotekrestaurant.is apotekrestaurant.is
OPEN 11:30–23:30 Mondays – Thursdays
11:30–00:00 Fridays and Saturdays
17:00–23:00 Sundays
TVEIR HRAFNAR listhús, Art Gallery
Baldursgata 12 101 Reykjavík (at the corner of Baldursgata and Nönnugata, facing Þrír Frakkar Restaurant)
Phone: +354 552 8822 +354 863 6860 +354 863 6885 art@tveirhrafnar.is www.tveirhrafnar.is
Opening hours: Thu-Fri 12pm - 5pm, Sat 1pm - 4pm and by appointment +354 863 6860
TVEIR HRAFNAR
listhús, Art Gallery
offers a range of artwork by
contemporary Icelandic artists
represented by the gallery,
selected works by acclaimed
artists and past Icelandic
masters.
Hallgrímur Helgason
Húbert Nói Jóhannesson
Jón Óskar
Óli G. Jóhannsson
Ragnar Þórisson
Steinunn Þórarinsdóttir
Also works by:
Guðbjörg Lind Jónsdóttir
Hulda Hákon
Sara Oskarsson
Kristján Davíðsson
Nína Tryggvadóttir
– among others
I haven’t picnicked on an iceberg or
searched for my own lost self. I was per-
haps a rather boring tourist, from an out-
sider’s perspective. I didn’t flirt with death
by nature, and I didn’t lose myself.
I did find something, though, that I
hadn’t been looking for. I found in Iceland
something rare in our modern world.
I found: silence.
I found it in 2009, the first time I visited
Iceland. As I sat on the
harbour, breathing in
the clean air and look-
ing at Mount Esja, I felt
it. It was the stillness
I’d never felt before. I
became aware then
for the first time that
silence wasn’t the
absence of sound. It
wasn’t the absence of
anything. It was the
presence of peace.
The world was calm
and I was, too, for the
first time in a long
time.
After that, I never
heard the silence again. Since 2009, I’d
travelled to Istanbul, Amsterdam, London
and Lisbon. I’d gone into the woods in
the United States and sat by still ponds,
but there was always that something—a
cricket, a bird. There was the sound in my
mind of the phone calls unanswered as I
took time to walk in nature, or the voice
of my relatives or friends. I needed that
silence. It completed something in me in
a way that I hadn’t felt before.
Years went by, and it seems the world
became more stressful for everyone. As
technology expanded, it made the world
smaller, and brought us together while
pulling us apart. The phones and emails
flooded. Everyone’s lives became busier.
The world became even more rushed.
Just when I felt at the end of my rope,
by fortune a stopover on a work trip in
2014 brought me back to Reykjavík. I
didn’t have time to go to the glaciers or
Gullfoss. I wanted to visit the Goat Lady,
but that took time I didn’t have. I was in
a hurry. I never did get to experience the
geysers, or to ride a horse. At the Blue La-
goon I was hardly a special tourist, more
of a cliché. I lost count of all the other
American accents I heard through the
steam, clutching plastic cups with beers
in their hands.
On my second day, I sat on the rocks
near Harpa, looking out at the mountains.
I focused on the still water and waiting for
that silence, that silence I craved for so
many years, and which I felt in that same
spot five years ago. Just then, a Caterpil-
lar construction truck ploughed by me,
putting rolls of grass
into the openings
in the cement. The
workmen yelled at
each other while the
engine roared. The si-
lence was lost before
it was found.
What if I would
never experience it
again? What if Iceland
had lost that singular
quality? Since I’d been
there before, there
was considerably
more construction
going on, and more
noise. I mean, come
on, the place now even had a penis mu-
seum!
That night, as I sat in my guesthouse
room on Gunnarsbraut, which faced the
garden in the back, I finally felt it. The
moment was full, of peace, serenity. I was
calm. I would hope that other tourists to
Iceland experience the same thing, but
even if it’s my own personal connection,
I appreciate it nonetheless, or maybe
even more. The silence was there and it
lasted until I absorbed all of it, enjoyed it
for all that it was. I smiled and continued
reading The Reykjavík Grapevine. Örvar
the cat was found! The Icelandic sense of
whimsy was strong as ever. The painting
of puffins and white horses stared at me
from the wall.
I may not have done anything wild
and wonderful like hike a mountain, get
lost on the North Atlantic or discover
elves, but I’d like to think I’ve discovered
something truly special about Iceland.
And it’s more than I need to keep me
coming back.
Go to www.touristoftheyear.is
Kara´s S tor y
I would hope that oth-
er tourists to Iceland
experience the same
thing, but even if it’s
my own personal con-
nection, I appreciate it
nonetheless, or maybe
even more. The si-
lence was there and it
lasted until I absorbed
all of it, enjoyed it for
all that it was