Near the Old Man of Storr, Scotland I took this in 2004

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Check this out..!!!

This is an old blog of mine called Liminality
I lost the password, but it's worth the read.

And, while you're at it, here's another now elderly blog also of mine, and to which I have no password, yet again, called Art for who's sake, but, it's more like a diary, so...there you go, kimono!

The Sagas continue

So to remind ourselves, I was now on my second bus supposedly heading toward my wee small fishing village near the west fjords, called Grundafjordur. Well, things didn't go as smoothly as planned, but I think you could've guessed that.

The getting there...

Now, I'm on this second bus for a good hour, I'd suppose, when it starts to pull in somewhere. Wow, could we be there so soon?

No, we couldn't be. This was Iceland, after all. The driver had pulled into an ESSO station, for a break. In Iceland, Essos are like 7-11s. I decided, since everyone else was nipping off, I would too. So, nip off I did, and just as quickly I was back on the bus, tearing in to my backpack for all my warm clothes. It was freezing, and I know cold, I'm Canadian..and I was only planning on standing outside for no more than 5 minutes to smoke..yes, I was a smoker.

I threw on warm socks, my hiking boots, added the lining to the jacket I had on, and put on a sweater and scarf. Now I was ready for my 5 minutes.

Well, after that pit stop another bus had pulled up and most pf the passengers started filing on to that bus...I asked what was happening, and was getting very confused because no one was able to tell me clearly which bus I should take. In the end , the driver of the bus I had been on told me to switch and so I began the next leg of my journey on bus #3.

The most nerve racking thing for me was watching the weather change right before my eyes.
One moment it was windy but bright, then it started to cloud over and rain, and then snow quite heavily, then, a quite severe wind storm...more about that later.

I was the only non-Icelandic passenger on board. When I got onto the third bus at the Esso, a lady took the liberty of yelling at me for sitting, in what was apparently, her seat. I was startled and went to sit at the back where I was flanked by 2 men; 1 young and the other older. Both of them had something to occupy their time, a paper and music..therefore, there would be zero conversation. Fun for me.

After a few hours aboard that bus, I believe I changed buses again. And after having sat with those 2 people for a few hours who had not said one god damned word to me the whole time, as i got up to go they wished me a pleasant trip, as did others aboard.

Icelandic people are very reserved and cold.They are not known for their warmth. They are not a smiling culture, nor, as I was told by a woman who ran the hostel in the wee village, who was from South Africa, do they like making jokes; so when I was talking with a teacher who was a friend of the woman who ran the hostel, she taught English, he music, and had been a drummer in the Sugar Cubes(?) a band that Bjork was in in her early days , I saw most definitely how making pleasant 'small talk' isn't their style, at all. Ok it's not mine either, but geez, would a "hello" kill anyone? Maybe,

So, I made it on to the last bus. I watched as the weather careened into a full-on snow-storm. I was a bit nervous as I watched people begin ringing the bell and the back doors would open and off they would step; into the vast me at least. I could see anything. No houses, no road signs, no bus stop even..literally nothing. Just highway and snow.

I was getting worried that perhaps this was how I was supposed to get to my traversing a lonely, snow-filled Icelandic highway. I was definitely beyond a little nervous now. The driver could see this as the passengers began to thin out.