Reykjavík Grapevine - 16.07.2018, Blaðsíða 2

Noemi Ehrat is a
student of English
and political science
hailing from the
Swiss city of Zurich.
She came to Iceland
first through her
love of the majestic
Icelandic horse and
could somehow not
stop coming back
ever since. Reading,
writing and hating
make her happy, too.
Elín Elísabet is an illus-
trator and cartoonist
born and raised in
Borgarnes. At the
tender age of 15, Elín
moved to Reykjavík
and hasn’t looked
back, except for the
annual springtime
impulse to move
someplace quiet
and keep chickens.
Elín likes folk music,
stationery, seal vid-
eos, the country of
Ireland, and eggs.
Hannah Jane Cohen
is based out of Ice-
land by way of New
York. An alumni of
Columbia University,
Hannah has lived
on five continents
and speaks three
languages fluently,
which is very impres-
sive. Her visionary
work is known for
expanding the defini-
tions of emotion,
introspection, and
above all else, taste.
John Rogers an
Englishman who
first joined us as
a music writer,
later graduating to
Managing Editor. A
constant traveller, a
lover of art, culture,
food and nightlife,
he edits our Best of
Reykjavík, Best of
Iceland and Iceland
Airwaves sister
publications. His first
book, “Real Life,” was
published in 2014.
Sveinbjörn Pálsson
is our Art Director.
He's responsible for
the design of the
magazine and the
cover photography.
When he's not work-
ing here, he DJs as
Terrordisco, hosts
the Funkþátturinn
radio show, or sits
at a table in a Rey-
kjavik café, drinking
copious amounts of
coffee and thinking
about fonts.
Christine Engel
Snitkjær has a
diverse interna-
tional background
in studies ranging
from Literature to
Character Animation.
An avid traveler and
cosmopolitan, Chris-
tine uses her experi-
ences as sources of
inspiration for telling
stories. Her passport
says Denmark and
she loves rabbits.
Andie Fontaine has
lived in Iceland since
1999 and has been
reporting since 2003.
They were the first
foreign-born mem-
ber of the Icelandic
Parliament, in 2007-
08, an experience
they recommend for
anyone who wants
to experience a
workplace where
colleagues work tire-
lessly to undermine
each other.
Timothée Lambrecq
is a French freelance
photographer and
filmmaker who can
be found exploring
Iceland’s nature,
small towns and 101
music scene, or on
the dancefloor at
Berghain in Berlin.
He’s made music
videos for sóley, JFDR
and Samaris, likes
shibas and techno,
and is an avid burger
aficionado.
Lóa Hlín Hjálmtýsdóttir
is a national treasure.
One of Iceland's lead-
ing illustrators, when
she's not drawing
she's the front-
woman of Icelandic
electro-pop super-
group FM Belfast. Her
comic strip Lóabrato-
rium appears every
issue on page eight,
and is also available
as a daily dose on her
Twitter.
First 12: Murky Goings On At United Silicon14: Pawn Takes Bishop: The Church In Crisis 16: Domestic Violence Brought To Light 24: The Dark Fantasy World Of Tulipop32: Music In Paradís 34: BSÍ Stop Traffic35: GDRN Takes Control38: 'Let Me Fall' Premieres
52: On Tour
With Björk
44: Keep On (Food)
Truckin'
46: A Real Life Lava Show
48: Hiking To Hengifoss
ON THE COVER:
A hike in Friðland að
Fjallabaki, the nature
reserve that holds
Landmannalaugar
campsite.
COVER PHOTO:
Timothée Lambrecq
timotheelambrecq.com
ABOUT THE PICTURE:
After a five day drive
around the Highlands,
writer John Rogers
(pictured) and
photographer Timothée
Lambrecq arrived at
Landmannalaugar. The
campsite was overrun
because of a nearby
flood evacuation, but
this hiking trail was still
completely secluded.
The Last Troll
The Reykjavík Grapevine went to the
mystical Highlands this issue. It’s a
scary place—Icelanders are often afraid
of the Highlands, but are also full of
reverence. It feels like it would be no
surprise to meet the last troll up there,
or a wandering elf with cruel inten-
tions. Of course, you won’t find either,
but you can find interesting rangers
and seasoned travellers looking for the
more extreme side of Icelandic nature.
And, perhaps, a little silence; a break
from the constant turmoil of the city.
Icelanders have a lot of myths
related to the Highlands. Some of
them are about elves kidnapping trav-
ellers, or even seducing them, while
others are about vicious trolls. Those
ones don’t end up with sex, blessings
or curses, but they do sometimes end
in rape, and often death. Then we have
stories about sinister spirits in the
wild. Voices, fogs and whatnot. These
stories were in some senses warnings
to would-be Highland explorers about
these treacherous grounds where you
can disappear without a trace.
The modern day manifestation of these
stories is in the news, when our vigi-
lant rescue services are looking for
a troubled tourist or an experienced
hiker that has disappeared without a
trace. It happens sometimes. It’s liter-
ally like some otherworldly creature
opened up the entrance to the moun-
tains and lured them in. This is truly an
image that goes through the minds of
many Icelanders when they read these
stories.
Icelanders’ combined awe and fear of
the Highlands are probably imprinted
from the sagas that we grew up with.
But now we also know that Iceland’s
nature has a temper of its own that you
need to pay attention to and respect.
In our feature on page 19 we try to
capture this mystical place. But we also
warn you: if you are going up there, be
well prepared. Because you might just
meet the last troll. And they are up to
no good.
Valur Grettisson
EDITORIAL