Where is my mind?

On the road unknown.

All photos from we♥it.

Iceland

I wanted to share some pictures I took from my most intriguing trip to Iceland.

I came back a week ago, the volcano was crumping into action again, and like an angry old dragon, was blowing hot ash, steam and smoke all over the rocky land.

And rocky it was. Oh Floki, you deceptive Viking you. It may have been a harsh winter when you arrived, though perhaps calling it Rockland would have been a little more appropropriate. Being a hotspot for geological activity and sitting on the Mid-Atlantic ridge, Iceland literally rose from the sea from past volcanic activity, thus rendering it treeless (I didn't quite believe it, though it's true- there are no natural trees).

Reykjavik is situated on a fishing harbour, essentially the lifeline of most Icelanders. Cool air comes sweeping off the sea and the snow-capped mountains surrounding it, sending this Australian shivering whilst traising up and down the narrow streets.

I imagined there to be small bistros serving traditional food, i'd have even settled for fish stew. Instead, there were mainly influences from the American GI's that were here during and after WW2, the diners selling hamburgers, steak and beer. The supermarkets sold Bisquick and squirty cheese. The food was a major bummer, though I did have 'cheap' in mind.

I did dine (I use that term loosley) at sægreifinn, which came recommended through the Reykjavik Grapevine (pick up this free English-speaking rag - it's an absolute must for Icelandic navigation! It's also probably the coolest streetpress, I've ever read). It stated it had weird Icelanic food, for which I was down for. However, asking to see the menu, the waitress pointed at the fridge full of fish kebabs and replied 'That is the menu'. I bypassed the red, dense whale meat and went for the saltfish. It was delicious, but one fish kebab does not make a meal. I was still quite hungry after my meal, so grabbed a cheeseburger down the street afterwards.

The city iself serves three-fifths of the Icelandic population, though it doesn't feel like it. The city centre is extremely small, with the outer surburbs sprawled amongst the rocky terrain. Like any small place, I can imagine Reykjavik to be quite dull if you've lived there all your life. The same people, same places to go. I guess that's why we explore in the end.

Iceland though, is not the sort of place you go to for its cities. Of course, there is the raging volcano that I mention above, that has been huffing and puffing since Apr 20th. And wasn't I the lucky one to have this thrust upon me after I had booked my ticket? I booked a jeep trip to the outer surrounds, getting between 8-10kms away from the erupting Eyjafjallajökull. Eight hours later, I was back at the hostel, dusty, tired and proud to say that I have seen a volcano erupt.

One thing that I can say for Icelanders- they know how to make coffee. I felt like I was home! Having lived in Europe now for the better part of 4 years, good coffee was something I have had to seek out. England, France, Spain, Germany et al all bomb in coffee making skills. They do, I've said it. However, the small, isolated island of Iceland, well it's like they'd all taken a trip to Lygon St Melbourne and received barista training. It was such a lovely suprise, that I ended up drinking far more coffee than I should have. I couldn't help it, their cafes were from the kingdom of cool.

So below are a small selection of pictures from my trip. Enjoy.

The view from the bus, driving back from the Blue Lagoon. This was pretty much the view from anywhere.

This was one of many dead casts within the church, Hallgrimskirkja. It sort of intrigued me, then concerned me as to why these faces were there. There was no explanation, nor were the faces marked in any way. And then I came across this smiling fellow. He looked happy. And then, so was I.

I went to the Reykjavik Flea Markets (every Sat. and Sun), and the most interesting thing was this dried, cured shark meat they were flogging. This is an Icelandic delicacy. It really smelt terrible, though I bought a small sample to try. I just couldn't in the end, and threw it in the bin. A welcome smell for the people I shared a room with.

My double latte. Interestingly, they only half filled it with milk, and sort of looked at me funny when I said fill it up. Hardcore, those Icelanders.

How to keep warm in Iceland- wear an eyeless fox. Creepy.

Swedes

Clearly I cannot post YouTube clips without them taking over my side panels. I've tried to use the smallest videos, though they are still too large.

Oh the perils of life.

Home from Sweden after a small city break long weekend.

Shall I say that the cliches are all true about the beauty of the Swedes? True beauty, beauty that you see once every so often that you have to double take to believe.

The men are channelling shoulder length viking-esque hair with amazing style, and imaginative dress sense. Cons were worn with disregard, as were skinny jeans, chinos, distressed jackets, and tailored blazers.

The girls were Nordic queens and resembled every Hollywood beauty that lived. They were styled with oversized reading glasses, again wearing converse with opaque tights or jeans, and an amazing coat. The coolest were seen riding their bikes along the avenues, with their brown leather satchels poking out of their baskets.

At night, one could say the style for the ladies changed and was a little too minxy (read: tacky). Perhaps these were just the girls that slept all day, after partying all night thereby swaying my daytime view of the Swedish lady fashion. Anyhoo, high, high heels with skintight spandex dresses (oh brother), coupled with a little bag conveniently fitting in their fags and kroners, seemed to be the go.

It was so delightful to be led by some lovely Swedish friends, who took us to a gorgeous Gotherburg 'restaurang' where we partook in smoked herring, pea and smoked salmon tartar soup, veal with celeriac mash and for desert, poached pear. Sensational.

Oh, the coffee was definately passable too. Whopping suprise!

I shall probably post more about this, though am minutes away from starting my working day.

Now I can plan my activities for Iceland- volcano watching anyone? x

Ég elska þig

When I travelled to the US in 2003, I met a man who told me that he wandered past a garage in Iceland one day, and did a double take. He thought the music coming out of that garage was particularly good, so he poked his head around and playing in front of him, was Dave Grohl. He was jamming with some kids, before he was due to play that evening.

That initial anecdote provided my interest in Iceland; further reading and stories maintained it.

So 7 years later, after hearing of the amazing creativity flowing like its geothermal pools, I will be heading to the northern most capital in the world, Reykjavik.

Terrifically excited, bumbling around like a child, deciding what to do in the short time I am there, I would like to make 100% use of what Iceland has to offer me. Of course, suggestions are welcome.

I like Vikings. I like museums. I like design stores. I like gigs. And books. And great coffee. And delicious food.I'm opening up to Reykjavik.

Takk.


NB: Apparently, this is a useful phrase in Icelandic, 'Svifnökkvinn minn er fullur af álum.' It means, 'My hovercraft is full of eels.'

Today

It's going to be 45F in NYC today.

I have given up icecream for Lent (my favourite food) and Ben and Jerry's is EVERYWHERE.

The clothes sitch is still in a bit of a sitch. I'm yet to hit the thrifts, however.

I'm yet to feel like I'm actually in NYC.

Round 2

Amazing, i've now been in London for a year. As this is my second time around it doesn't feel as significant, though man am I lucky to have had to the opportunity to live abroad.

I've been in and out of Australia since I was 21, hopping around, expanding my repertoire of countries.

Gaining experience, gaining confidence, flying the nest, flying away.
I've seen things, felt things, heard things and tasted things.
I've met people I never would have spoken to.
There are still so many more people to speak to.

Don't worry, we were all scared once.

New York City

February 2010 sees me head across the pond and land in New York City.

Although not my first visit (more on that in a sec), NYC will be seen through fresh eyes because I'll be going there to meet up with my family. My sister is doing her med internship there, and my mum will be heading out to experience the US for the first time. Oh, how we will laugh.

I was there in August 2003, off the back of a 2-month Summer camp 'experience' in Ohio. I did little research, instead carried myself around for 10 days, happy to go where the tourist track took me. Although I could see its merits, NYC didn't wow me like it should have and by the end of my stay, I was desperate to leave and get off the island of Manhattan- I felt claustrophobic.

This time around it shall be different. Along with taking my mum around (although she isn't one for museums et al,) I'll be perusing more relevant things like food halls, one of a kind clothes stores, music history venues and film sets. I want to see my NYC, not the NYC sold to overweight package deal tourists from Kentucky or Bristol.

So, having said that and on the eve of me constructing a bespoke NYC google map, if there is anyone out there reading this and has anything to offer, please drop me a comment. It will be much appreciated.

This weekend I'm heading to Berlin, to visit the cute-as-a-button Christine.

So come Saturday, i'll be cruising around on Chris' spare bike exploring my favourite European city. It can't come soon enough.

Tschus!

Italia! Italia!

When I was about 16, my older sister and I used to watch Stealing Beauty religiously.

It was almost like a cinematic trainride out of the suburbs, transporting us to the magical Italian countryside where we could drink red wine elegantly and mull around an artist's colony whilst dabbling in a bit of romance.

I've been feeling the Italian pull lately, more so because I am within an hour's plane ride from all its gloriousness.

I say more so because of distance, though what I mean is more so because of the acres of meandering I shall partake in and the mountains of pasta and fresh tomatoes I shall ingest. And the fact that it seems like I would be able to dance in the Trevi Fountain or ride in fast cars, or sit under the shade and sleep with a smile on my face. In a word, relax.

Summertime is just like a drip in the arm, wouldn't you say?