Bukkeferd

Duncan doesn't send many text messages but when he does they are belters. Texts from Duncan in the past few weeks have included these two, the first was after we were moving out to separate houses. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye properly, and sent a text saying goodbye to which he replied with:
its been great livin with u. Will miss havin u around in the evenings. I hope the pad works out. If u ever need a beer, or a cup at our place and a chat then just say the word. Peace. D
The following one was sent straight after the disastrous Sudoku gig on Saturday at about 4.00am:
Sorry if I fucked things up the computer. Didn't know how to stop the f ucker [sic] mid song. Away that was a massive step up in class with the other bands. Don't Lose heart. Cheers 4 lettin me play. D

The Church of Latter Day Saints of Duncan Alexander awaits your call!!

I was coming out of the site office the other day an noticed a few new things. The massive spoil heap that was sitting next to the tents and has been threatening to crush us all like Welsh Schoolchildren has not only increased in size but managed to make its way around the side of the tent where I am now working. Mind you, as I was told before Christ's Mass, when I raised the issue, this is special Icelandic gravel that doesn't collapse like that poxy London gravel we use back in England. It only collapses in heavy rain. Or maybe an earthquake. Both of which are never known to happen in Iceland... Also since moving out of the old Office a construction company have taken over the building. The first thing they did was put a 'Danger Asbestos!' sign and I have seen a man coming in and out in a full chemical suit. I feel a strange itchy feeling in my lungs... Jo's photograph ably demonstrates the risks we are living under.

Goliath and the Vampires

This has been a turbulent week, Roz and Duncan showed up on Saturday but because I was at a party I couldn't meet them in town, so on Sunday I met them and we all went to the Longhouse Museum which is located just over the road from our site. It´s an excellent place full of touchy-feely exhibits. I wanted to go as we may be able to catch some of the outhouses from this structure on our site. I wanted to see how turf walls look in situ. The museum has the fully excavated longhouse totally preserved, so the walls were there in all their glory. We wandered around town for an hour or so, then I headed back to my apartment and food. After which I met up with them both again and we all went swimming in my local pool. Apparently the sauna is the place to pick up gay men in Iceland, so needless to say I stayed away... I spend most of my time int he swimming pool in the hot pots, there´s four of them and the range in temperature from 32 degrees to 44 degrees. I can only take the 44 degree one for a short while before my heart starts beating too fast.

On Tuesday a massive storm hit us, it mainly went through the night. It was so strong that the Iceland rescue team (A sort of Paramilitary armed force that Iceland has instead of an army.) had to be called out to help secure the poles, with the use of the mini digger.

Hrafnkell and I had been taking about playing Sudoku live, here in Reykjavik, in support of his band Thingtakk, so we were supposed to go and practice on Thursday night. It was also a chance for me to go and check out his band. The bassist called in sick, however and rehearsal was cancelled, so instead Hrafnkell drove me over to his house and his wife made us dinner, then I showed him a few ninja riffs.

Friday night was PARTY night!! We had a visit from the archaeology department from the University of Reykjavik, it´s called a science trip, where the students were given a lecture and then we all tucked into lashings of beer. The problem was it all kicked off rather early by Icelandic standards, about 7.00pm. So by the time we´d all got to the pub about midnight everyone was well and truly wankered. Atli The King of Scotland bought me a stupid drink he called a Blue Cadillac, it was four shots; two separate shots of vodka, each topped up with sambuca and tequilla. The sambuca and vodka were set alight, the flame was blown out and I began drinking it through a straw whilst Atli poured the tequila and vodka mix in on top... Needless to say, I didn´t stay out much longer.

I spent yesterday trying, in vain, to buy a ticket to Boston. The fucking ticket office of Icelandic Air doesn´t open on a Saturday... as the airport was close to the Perlan (the building which provides Reykjavik with it´s geo-thermal hot water.), I wandered up to have a look at the Saga Museum that is located in one of the disused tanks. This was a Viking version of Madame Tussuad´s, maybe it would be better named Madame Tussuadsðottir. Various wax models told the history of Iceland in a rather potted way, I was quite disappointed as I was expecting preserved copies of the original Sagas, not some two-bit waxy Viking bullshit. On the slopes of the Perlan I found some, slurp slurp, concrete bunkers from the last war. I don´t seem to be able to go very far without tripping over some battlefield archaeology. I would have took photos, but being the cunt that I am, I forgot to take my camera. And my hat. Which I needed on the way to the airport when it started hailing sideways, when I was walking over some open fields. Then I met Angelos and we had a coffee and well needed chat, then bumped into Duncan and Roz and arranged to meet them both later for a few drinks. We went into town about midnight and went to the cheapest pub in Reykjavik (only 78 pounds a pint!). I wasn´t really in much of a party mood and probably wasn´t very good company, for which I can only apologise to Duncan and Roz.