Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.07.2016, Blaðsíða 10

The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 10 — 2016
10
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In what is an example of
either discrimination or
entitlement, pet owners
want to take their pets
on the bus, and whether or not that’s
going to happen is anything but simple.
First, dog owners in particular rallied to
pressure the city bus company, Strætó,
to change their no-pets policy. Then
objections rose from the allergic and
asthmatic. Finally, the vast majority of
the bus drivers themselves have said
they see nothing but more headaches for
them if the measure passes. In fact, the
only people who seem to support this
idea are dog owners themselves, which
shouldn’t really be surprising. Even if
the policy does go into effect, it will be
limited to a single year at first, and will
likely not begin until this autumn.
Does the name Marco Evaristti mean
anything to you? It should: he was that
Chilean artist who dumped non-toxic
red dye into Geysir last year, turning the
water pink. He was eventually slapped
with charges, accused of violating Ice-
land’s nature conservation laws. Earlier
this month, South Iceland District Court
acquitted him of these charges, saying
no proof his stunt did any damage had
been presented, and the court further-
more order the state to cover Marco’s
legal expenses. I think we can all agree
this sets a momentous precedent for
geyser-dyers the world over.
We had been missing a nice Tourists
Behaving Badly story these days, as it
seems that either tourists have wised up
or Icelanders have gotten used to them.
So imagine our delight to see the story
of tourists using a car wash to [cont p 14]
NEWS IN
BRIEF
“So it’s a Monday night and 30,000
proud, stout Icelanders/Vikings/
Beards are down at Arnahóll wel-
coming their glorious heroes, the
men’s national football team, home
after their fairytale run in the 2016
European championships. Everyone
in Iceland has been going crazy over
this tournament. Everyone is flying
flags and wearing Icelandic facepaint.
Companies are taking out full-page
ads in the national press cheering on
‘Strákarnir Okkar (Oh, and shop at N1
gas stations).’ Even the sober-minded
communist hippies at the Grapevine
have been going into overdrive, mak-
ing t-shirts and spunking out #Ice-
landsmites tweets every five minutes.
“But while everyone downtown
chants ‘HÚH!’ and does their best ‘Tri-
umph of The Will’ cosplay, here in our
bar it’s quiet; just some dub music and
the few remaining tourists who have
no idea what’s going on. And if you
ask us bar workers our thoughts on
the whole thing? We would safely say,
‘Thank Christ it’s all over.’”
Iceland... or else
“Because this tournament has been
one big fucking slog for us. Most of
the main bars in 101 Rvk on the days
Iceland have been playing have been
inundated, at times overrun with
hordes of people experiencing full-on
sports nationalism for the first time
(true, Iceland won silver in handball
at the Beijing Olympics, but people
watched that at home. Meanwhile no
one cared about the women’s football
team reaching the European champi-
onships in 2013). Our bosses are over-
joyed with the takings, but with the
swell of tourists taking part in the ac-
tion, you’ve got a sea of drunkenness
and potential dickwaddery that sends
your ‘fuck you’ meter all the way up to 11.
“While most locals and tourist have
been content to simply get hammered
and go ‘HUH!’ and proclaim that they
are Viking warriors (while vomiting in
their shoe), there have been numerous
times when the mood has tipped over
from exuberance into outright aggres-
sion and violence, often with us having
to hold the line before it gets real nasty.
You’re told plenty of tales from other
workers of shit that went down on var-
ious match days. One friend said that
the worst at the bar she works at was
after the Iceland vs. Portugal game.
They had to forcibly throw out about a
dozen people for threats and violence,
while many of the locals hurled abuse
at anyone they felt wasn’t Icelandic,
spouting full-on racist comments of the
post-Brexit variety. At another bar, one
friend tells of how the mood was pretty
ugly as local fans harassed the DJ to play
music they could sing to, all the while
looking for people to get to proclaim
their support to Iceland… or else.”
And now it's over
“For us our nadir was after the Iceland
vs. England game. Up to that point
we just had to deal with a few idiots
and drunk bro tourists in Icelandic
football shirts pretending to be
Vikings. But after the match, it was
like the city descended on us. We were
swamped, only for several locals to
decide that fighting and threatening
people would be a real cool thing to
do. We ended up having to call out the
police, and it took them over thirty
minutes to arrive (it turned out the
police were also stretched after the
game). Two guys were arrested. Cue
rivers of spilt beer and broken glass.
It was a veeeery ugly night. When we
tell people about this they’re honestly
quite shocked—How can Icelanders
behave like this?’ But for us it’s neither
shocking nor surprising. This type of
behaviour happens downtown every
weekend. The only difference is that
this time around it was fueled by
rampant nationalism.
“But just as the fire of sports na-
tionalism burns fast and hot, it dies
just as quick. We and several other
bars were on high alert for the France
game, but in the end France simply
turned up and tore the Icelandic team
a new one in the first half. We were
busy, but people just simply wanted
to get drunk and commiserate. There
were no chants or beating of chests
or forcing tourists to pledge their al-
legiance to the land of fire and ice. We
all breathed a sigh of relief in the end.
“And now it’s over. After the gather-
ing to welcome Iceland’s fallen heroes
back, everyone goes home, because it’s
a school night and you’ve got work in
the morning. All we have to deal with
in the end is one middle-aged Ice-
lander in a suit who spends his time
insulting a group of Americans, than
Germans, while trying to insist that
he’s allowed to smoke in the bar. And
so it goes…”
As told to
BOB CLUNESS
Photo
ART BICNICK
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STRANGE
BREW
101 Rvk’s bar workers flex their armchair pundit muscles throwing fools out the front door…
“One Nation.
One Soul.
One Race.
One Football...”