Reykjavík Grapevine - 14.07.2017, Síða 64
Perlan in Öskjuhlíð is some kind
of Icelandic version of a Ferris
wheel. The restaurant on top of
the old tanks where Reykvíkingar
used to store their hot water turns
slowly, so guests can see the whole
city from their seat if they stay in
it for two hours.
Perlan is a monument of Davíð
Oddsson’s time as mayor of Reyk-
javík. The structure was opened to
the public in 1991, the same year he
became Prime Minister of Iceland.
Davíð felt that Reykjavík had little
to offer to tourists—at that time,
there were around three tourists
every year, probably all German.
Davíð was criticised heavily
over the cost of Perlan (the equiva-
lent to roughly $64 million dol-
lars at the time), and it didn’t help
when, soon after, fourteen visitors
got stuck in an elevator and almost
suffocated because the emergency
bell didn’t work. But Perlan is
there, and the tourists (which are
around four every year now, and
probably all English) go there and
buy ice cream in this weird spin-
ning political monument.
SALKA VALKA
FISH & MORE
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Steamed Fresh Fish, Traditional Icelandic Fish ‘Stew’, Fish & Vegan Soups,
Smoked Salmon & Vegan Toppings on Sourdough Bread, Beer, Wine, Coffee & more
OPEN daily 12 ̶ 6 pm FREE ADMISSION
only 40 min. drive from Reykjavík
- on the Golden Circle
Creating the Self
Foreign
Installation by Tinna Ottesen
Finnur Jónsson
Gunnlaugur Scheving
Jóhann Briem
Jóhannes Kjarval
Jón Engilberts
Jón Stefánsson
Muggur
Snorri Arinbjarnar
Svavar Guðnason
̶ expressionism
in Icelandic paintings 1915-1945
64 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12 — 2017
Dark are the murky waters,
The deep and stormy sea
Where each and every evening
This fisherman will be.
– Dark are the murky waters.
The first time that he cast
His fishhook overboard,
An old and splendid codfish
Became his sweet reward.
He mumbled something to himself
And sang and laughed and roared.
On every night since then
The man will go back there
And spend the evening fishing
With no need to despair,
For his boat is always full of catch
Though black storms shake the air.
Dark are the murky waters,
The deep and stormy sea,
And some say that the old man
Who rows there frequently
Has horns, a tail and claws
And a hoof below his knee.
When we die, the tale tells,
And death comes to your door,
The soul becomes a codfish
To cleanse what’s gone before ...
And let’s not say any more.
– But dark are the murky waters.
MONSTER OF THE MONTH
Sálir -
Souls
Taken from 'The Museum of Hidden
Beings' by Arngrímur Sigurðsson.
Buy the book at gpv.is/dulbk
REYKJAVÍK OF YORE
A Spinning Political
Monument
Words: Valur Grettisson Photos: Art Bicnick / Reykjavík Museum of Photography
Dark are the murky waters,
Davíð Stefánsson.