Yesterday I found myself sat once again in one of my favourite Reykjavik bars. I sipped a cup of cold Thule, served by an Icelandic lady, half-conversing in my rusty Íslenska. “Kemur þú oft hingað?” I asked. She laughed, politely. I suppose this would all make some kind of sense, were it not for the fact that I was about 30 minutes walk from King’s Cross.
After the traumas of the last few weeks, I’ve been itching to just get away and get out of Nottingham. Its many months since I first suggest that the whole gang go camping, but this weekend we finally got the Defender, the Datsun and, erm… the Peugeot, and set off up North, mob-handed.
Yesterday, four members of the team completed the Great Notts Bike Ride 50 mile route; cycling from Holme Pierrepont to Newark, then back to Nottingham into brutal and constant 30 mph headwinds that nearly killed us.
On Sunday 22nd June, myself and the other chaps will be taking part in this year’s Great Nottinghamshire Bike Ride to help raise money for several charities. We’re doing 50 miles!
So, I’m doing a lot more cooking these days, and learning about food rather than just eating it. My kitchen confidence has taken a knock over the last few years, but I’m back. Anyway, as part of this belly-pleasing pursuit, and to satisfy my desire to recreate some of the amazing meals I ate whilst living in Iceland, I tracked down a book called Icelandic Food and Cookery, which looks great.
Eight years ago, I spent the Millennium Eve week in a tiny chocolate-box house by the lake in Reykjavik’s old town. I’d just split from my Icelandic girlfriend (Hi Erla) of two years, and I was down. Really down.
This is quite possibly the most beautiful film trailer I have ever seen, for the forthcoming feature length film about the wonderful Sigur Ros (about whom I have written too many times to mention). Makes me pine for those old Icelandic summer gatherings at Thorsmork…
What else would you expect us to be doing at 7.30am? With hangovers. In the pouring rain. In the middle of nowhere.
In my opinion, this is the greatest painting ever created. Well, alright. Not the greatest ever, but I fell in love with it when I saw it nine years ago in the foyer of the Hafnarborg Institute of Culture and Fine Art, in the glorious Icelandic town of Hafnarfjordur near where I used to live.
Quite a lot of people know that I lived in Iceland for a total of around a year, and I therefore get lots of emails asking about things to see and do in Reykjavík. To save me the trouble of writing back every time, I decided to post up my must-see list here.
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