Winternight

Feeling much better on Thursday night I went along with Hrafnkell to the Global Battle of the Bands. Thingtak were playing and I went along to support. This was more than the usual clapping, the audience also got a vote along with the judges as to who the winners should be. We traveled over in the Thingmobile, to some place on the way to Keflavik. A little industrial estate in the middle of nowhere, where someone had had the amazing sense to set up a sports bar. Two minutes away from the venue, Hrappi turned to me and said 'I can't remember if I said or not, but you might have to pay to get in.' Thanks mate, let me know in plenty of time. A Yorkshire Man and his money are not easily parted. I need some time for this kind of information to sink in. You know, a couple of days to weigh up the pros and cons of paying for something. I agonise for weeks about making even small purchases like a toothbrush. 'How much does it cost, how long will I use it for, how much will each use cost me in the long run?' So to have this dumped on me, scant moments before I have to do the act of exchanging money sends me into spasms, where my pockets become a lot longer and my arms a lot shorter... I resisted the temptation to attack him and duly paid the fee of 500 Kroner (About £2.50...).

The bands that played were a mixed bunch. Of the seven groups I liked the TOTAL METAL band called Elect. They ended up going through to the final, as did the jangley-shit indie band who's name I forget and Thingtak, champions of the audience vote. I got back home pretty late and crashed out.

Friday evening was spent watching the first series of Black Books that Atli had loaned to me the previous day. I had heard a lot of good things about BB, from various sources over the years. It seemed to be the best ever comedy ever made according to everyone who has seen it. It was also written by one of the Father Ted duo, which I love. The first episode came and went. I thought, hmmm, OK, it's setting itself up, getting us familiar with the characters, building plot. At least that's a good excuse for being SHIT and not funny in the slightest. The second episode also came and went. One or two laugh-out-loud moments, but still not enough to credit the amount of praise heaped on the show. I watched the entire series to the end, hoping that something good would come out of it. Nothing did. The only thing I 'liked' was the Bill Bailey skit on Midnight Cowboy in the final episode of the series. I found it very laboured, obvious and lacking any real spark. It was like a sit-com for Guardian readers. Something they can talk about at dinner parties. A real disappointment. Jo went to bed after the last episode and as Roz and Duncan were out I watched something that never disappoints: Taxi Driver. Still brilliant, never mind how many times it is watched.

I met Duncan and Roz's friends, Ben and Ali, who were over for the weekend on Saturday morning. Jo and I went to the bottle bank to dispose of the house bottles then went on to do some clothes shopping. No more on this touchy subject shall I dwell, suffice to say Jo knows what went on and if she doesn't keep her mouth shut, she will suffer for it.

After a delightful Mexican lunch, we both headed home and got caught up in the protests again, they still haven't worked out that eggs don't break windows. Jo put Taxi Driver on and although I'd seen it the previous night I watched it again. About seven thirty we were picked up in the Thingmobile again for the Battle of the Bands final. This time nine bands played (they all played two songs each, in case you were wondering how long the thing went on for), again a mixed bunch, the best one (besides Thingtak, of course...) was a band called Borealis, I think. They played what can only be described as sixties porn music and had two dancing girls and a girl playing a FUCKING THERAMIN!!!! If you don't know what this is, find out on Wikipedia, I can't be bothered to explain, but every time I see one being played live it sends me into convulsions of joy! Thingtak didn't win, they didn't even come second or third, which was a real disapointment.

Sunday brought a new road trip! We were supposed to set off at the crack of sparrows, but since Duncan Roz, Ben and Ali had all gone out the previous night we set off more like twelve o'clock. Duncan went down to hire a car he was gone for quite a while and in his 'still-pissed' state from the previous evening's frivolities I feared that he may have been involved in some nasty accident or at the very least refused a hire car.As it was he was just delayed by the customer in front of him querying the price of the car. He had stuffed a million Fisherman's Friends into his gob to disguise the booze stink and they were duped into giving him a car for the day.

We drove over the Reykholt, via Hvalfjörður, which gave us another stunning and beautiful backdrop to the travel. Apparently the road around the Northern part of the fjord is one the most treacherous, with the wind turning cars over and other such horrific mishaps. Unbelievably we survived the ordeal with the car intact and the right side up. Outside Reykholt we stopped to look at Deildartunguhver, described in the guide book as the biggest and one of the most impressive geothermal pools in Europe. We stopped at what we thought was Deildartunguhver. A chained up gate stopped us getting into an enclosure that had several concrete structures built over a bubbling pool. A less than impressive sight indeed... Hardly the biggest geothermal pool in Europe and certainly not the most impressive. I was more impressed by the sink outside the public toilet nearby.

How wrong we could be... Further down the road was the real Deildartunguhver. Unbelievable. A wooden fence kept us away from the boiling and bubbling water that comes out of the ground at about 97 degrees C. The steam billowing out of the thing was hotter than any bath I've ever had and was almost impenetrable. See my photos on Facebook to see what I'm talking about.

We then stopped in Reykholt, final home of Snorri Sturluson, hero of Icelandic Literature. We looked at the great man's bathing pool and the remains of his house, which Angelos had worked on many a moon ago. Actually, because of these excavations at Reykholt I wouldn't be in Iceland at all. We looked at his statue but didn't go into the museum, we thought it better to save it for another day when we weren't battling against the fading light.

Further on from Reykholt we stopped at Hraunfossar and Barnafoss waterfalls. I tried to get to the edge at Barnafoss, but the ice made it too tricky and I thought better of plunging into what looked like a violent washing machine surrounded by jagged lava rocks. Pressing on we turned onto the gravel Kaldidalur road which would have taken us past four glaciers. The road was blocked with a barrier and despite Ben's insistence that the sign which said 'Impassible' meant 'Road Open' we turned back onto the main road. The light had well and truley gone so we set back to Reykjavik after another great road trip.

And now, a new part of this weblog!

The Funny Things Jo Says!

Jo was complaining the other day that these posts makes her look boring and wanted me to write up all the funny things she says or does. So folks, hold onto your seats as here we go...

On Thursday we were working in the tent and Jo said this really funny thing, no hang on... erm... It was Lilja that said it.

Last Monday during break we were all playing Shithead and Jo came out with this hilarious statement... errr, hmmm, no, it was Margret this time.

Sorry, this is not really working is it. This is the first and last of these.