# 12: You Just Need to Go To Iceland

No words, just pictures.  And a link for Icelandair

  

#11: Fascinating Things About Iceland

I was tempted to call this blog "You just need to go there" and only include pictures.  I will do that too.  But here are a few things that I thought were fascinating about Iceland.

As I believe I mentioned earlier, Icelandair has a deal where you can fly to a range of places in Europe and have a few days stop over in Reykjavík.  I am not at all convinced that our two and a half days were enough to see Reykjavík or Iceland but it was a very nice introduction to a country we definitely want to revisit.  

On our first day, we did the Golden Circle Tour.  Neither of us are big fans of this kind of travel but we were pleasantly surprised by our tour.  We learned much more than if we had rented a car for a day and driven ourselves around.  We had a small van and an excellent tour guide.  I had not expected that our guide would be so well-versed in so many aspects of Icelandic history, geology, geography, politics and natural history.  At our last stop I asked her how she knew so much and she laughed.  She told me that she had been studying Iceland since childhood but also that guides in Iceland need to go to school to become guides (it seemed like a MA type degree with courses in history, geology, etc).  It was almost a 7 hour tour and I wished it had been longer.  

As I mentioned in my post about Icelandair, this country is very smart about its tourism.  The goal appears not just to have people come here and spend money (though, obviously, that's a major motivation) but they want to have people come here and learn about their country and experience what it has to offer.  I'm very impressed with the ways in which they've tried to create a high quality experience for their visitors so people will tell their friends and family about why they should visit Iceland. It appears to be working as tourist numbers are growing in leaps and bounds every year. 

Here are a few interesting facts about Iceland that I collected in my too-short time there.

The water in Thingvellir Lake in the National Park Thingvellir is so clear and deep that it is a haven for divers.  Our guide told us that divers need to be cautioned they may experience a fear of heights because of the clarity of the water and the depths of the lake.  

There are 151 people in prison in Iceland.  Two are women. Our guide knew what both women had done.  

There are very limited animal types who live here: sheep, horses,  reindeer, cattle, fox, whales, dogs and cats.  And also very limited numbers of birds (I read 75).  It was illegal to own a dog as a pet in Reykjavík until very recently and there appear to be lots of regulations about dog ownership. 

The Icelandic horses have a fascinating 4 beat gait-- a flying pace.  They are adorable and gorgeous.  I was grateful that our guide was a horse fan and pulled over so we could see them being herded to their summer pastures.  One of my best moments of the trip.

Brewing and selling beer was illegal here until March 1, 1989.  March 1 is now celebrated as "Beer Day." They do, however, drink Brennivín (bottled at 80 proof) which is the traditional accompaniment to a snack of fermented shark meat.  Men on the bus told us it really did taste like fermented shark meat and not even Brennivin can get rid of the taste. 

Hot water in houses is geothermally (is that a word?) heated.  It smells a little sulfur-y but it's neat.

The common snipe makes a really interesting sound while landing

The average temperature in January in 2oC.  The average temperature in June is 9oC. July is their warmest month with an average of 10.6 o C.

Iceland has the most Nobel Prizes per capita.  They've had one: Halldor Laxness for fiction in 1955.  

The Icelandic that people speak today is so close to Old Norse that they can easily read the original Sagas in their original format

Iceland was first populated in the 9th century by settlers mainly from Norway.  Many took "slaves" and women from Ireland and Scotland.  

I did not see Bjork. Nor did I acquire a swan costume.  I have been asked that four or five times since arriving home.  

You could dine on Minke whale with cranberry sauce or smoked puffin with blueberry brennevin sauce.  You could also dine on things that would make the most avid fans of charcuterie wince. 

I saw a chef using the hot water in a small geyser to cook food

The population of Iceland in 2012 was 319,575.  In 2011, 566, 000 tourists visited here.  

30% of the population has a university degree. In 2010, there were 18, 391 university students.  Tuition and fees are generally under 500$ a year.

Some of the western part of Iceland is technically part of North America.  

The longest word in Icelandic is Vaðlaheiðarvegavinnuverkfærageymsluskúraútidyralyklakippuhringur and it is 64 letters long.  It means "key ring of the key chain of the outer door to the storage tool shed of the road workers on the Valoheioi plateau. "  Google it, my friends. #icelandyouslayme

My new favourite saying comes from Iceland: "there are many fascinating thoughts inside of a cow's head."

If all air travel began with a trip to the Blue Lagoon, there would be no air rage. 

#10 Munch at 150: Exhibit at the Norway National Gallery of Art

When I was growing up, my Mum had a book on Munch and on a nearly daily basis I saw the cover of the work.  I'd seen it so many times I failed to see it.  This was the cover.  As an art history student, I ran into Munch again (though I learned to call him 'Edvard Mooonk' not Eddy Munch as I had when I was 12).  I studied his works carefully for my exams.  As an art history student, you're often led to believe that you know an artist if you can identify and "read" 5-10 works by him or her.  Munch was one of those artists I thought I knew but I was excited to leave the Munch at 150 exhibit in Oslo realizing how little I'd known about him and the paintings I thought I knew.  I also realized I only knew him by slides and reproductions in text books.  As we shuffled between admirably attentive school groups toward the exhibit's entrance,  I thought, "Ahh... Eddy, we meet again."  I thought I'd be going to meet an old friends but I was mistaken.  I met someone brand new. 
This exhibit was wonderfully curated not only in terms of scope, design, arrangement within the museum but also in terms of the additional materials made available on the walls and through your smartphone (free wireless in the exhibit let you download an audio and visual app to help guide you through-- very well done) and on the web.  I was, however, most excited to finally see the complexity, diversity and visual context of the Munch works I thought I knew and also see works I never would have guessed would be works by Munch.  It's good to be constantly reminded of how little I know.
I had seen the work Madonna and had memorized its title and date for exams.  I'm sure I wrote a passable exam paragraph on this piece but seeing this work in a room full of other versions and prints was an art history class in and of itself.  The same could be said for variations of The Voice (1893) and The Kiss (1892).  Seeing multiple versions of all of these works reminded me that the paintings I saw in those darkened art history classrooms weren't ends in themselves but points on a longer and more complex creative journey.   I also ran into the work I'd recognized from my mum's book and learned, for the first time, that this work was called "Evening on Karl Johan" (1892) which was remarkable to me because we'd spent part of our time in Oslo wandering up and down Karl Johan street, unaware that this was the street in the painting I had seen so often on the cover of my mum's book.  And, of course, I saw many versions of The Scream (1895) which, as a culture, we've seen so many times and seen parodied so often that we cannot actually "see" it any more.  But seeing it in person and seeing its many versions and revisions and reversions, I was starting to feel like I could see it anew.  And it is remarkable.  The woodcuts of it might even be more interesting than the more famous painting.
Also surprising were works like his Girls on the Bridge (1901) and Women on the Bridge (1902) which, while still sort of sinister, are lighter and airier than what we usually conjure when we think of Munch. The Enchanted Forest (1903) seems particularly unusual.
There is a lot of talk about the power of the internet and how digital resources can bring the world to us wherever we are.  I have a hard time arguing with that logic because it's true.  Yet, I also see how very different it is to see these works in person than it was to see them as an art history student on a big screen in a dark classroom.  I think the people who organized the Munch at 150 show also realized the power of seeing works in person because they arranged for one of Munch's self-portraits to travel to different places in Norway (including the tiny Roros).  But they also realize that digital technologies can "bring" people to the show who couldn't otherwise have seen it.  Here's but one example.  They're doing interesting things and I hope more museums start doing things like this.  The Munch exhibit was placed mid-list of these we wanted to see and do in Oslo but I am so very glad we made it to this show. It was nice to see you again, Eddy Munch. 

#9 Why We Liked Oslo

Oslo was one of the places we really liked a lot on this trip.  In no particular order, here's a list of why.

- It's a highly walkable city with lots of parks and pleasant places to walk.  Further, cars stop for pedestrians.  It was great to see people walking around, lots of babies in strollers, dogs taken for walks.  Walking is good for cities in so many ways. There are lots of lovely places to sit, watch the world go by, have a beer or a coffee, or just enjoy the day. 

- Children: they're adorable of course but they seem to interact with adults and the world around them in ways that struck me as different from North American children.  Somehow they seemed exceptionally adjusted to the world and very content with it and their place in the world.  We saw a group of ten children under four take the bus on an outing with three adults: they got on, sat quietly and contentedly three to a seat until their stop, happily got off and wandered off toward their destination all holding hands. We could all learn something from them.

- People: it takes a bit of time to get most people talking but they're all very nice, helpful, and interesting.  I learned a lot from talking to different people and they told me all sorts of things about Norway from them.

- The Vigeland Sculpture garden is absolutely remarkable.  It's almost overwhelming to see the scope and scale of this park. It's the world's largest sculpture park made by a single artist and has over 200 sculptures.  We also went to the Vigeland museum where you could see the artistry up close and begin to fathom the scale of such an undertaking.

- The language: after a week in Norway, it was getting easier to pick up in written form.  Everyone spoke English but almost everyone we encountered initially started speaking to us in Norwegian.  After seeing our confused looks, they'd happily switch to English.  It was nice to be challenged with a new language but I'll admit it was also really nice to be able to get by with English.  In an ideal world, I would have had some basic Finnish, Swedish, Norwegian, and Icelandic before leaving.  Alas, it was not to be.

- Museums: there are great museums: we went to the Design Museum, the National Gallery, the Vigeland Museum, the Viking Ship Museum, the Norwegian Folk Museum and we could have gone to a lot more.  All were excellent.

The Mathallen.  See the previous entry.

- Wireless: as in many places in Europe, it's almost everywhere.  It's free, reliable, and strong.  What's the issue North America? 

- Bikes are everywhere in Scandinavia and it's great to see so many people biking.  Unlike Sweden, they don't seem determined to run you down (unless they have to).

- Public art and public spaces.  The Vigeland Park is a remarkable space and throughout the city there are little corners with sculptures, street art on buildings and lots of ways creativity finds a space in the city.  One of the most interesting public spaces I've seen is the stunning and inviting Opera house.  On the ground level, there are massive images from recent dance and performances that really engaged people.  But the best part was that the building itself was built to engage people-- people can climb up the building, look out over the city and the harbour, sit and watch the world, wander freely around the space.  I love how something like an opera house
  that is so often seen as a cultural elite is something open, public, inviting, central, and lovely.  We need more of these kinds of spaces in our cities.
It left me inspired about cities and what they could be.  It was a city that had transformed itself in response to a changing world yet still maintained much of what it had been. 

#8: Lose the Baedeker! Or, food finds in Oslo

"On behalf of the kingdom, I would like to apologize for how expensive everything is in Norway."--  The bartender who sold us a small bowl of bar peanuts for an amount we'd rather not disclose.

In my all-time favourite movie, Eleanor Lavish tuts Miss Honeychurch to lose her travel guidebook: "Tut, tut! Miss Lucy! I hope we shall soon emancipate you from your Baedeker."  Reading this at an impressionable age, I've been suspicious about travel guides for most of my traveling life but over time I've come to find them quite useful. Lately, we've been buying Rick Steves' books and they've been helpful.  In Spain and Portugal, we found ourselves talking about Rick like he was a close friend: 'what did Rick say about this?' 'Oh yeah, Rick mentioned that.' These books are comforting, especially on long trips, as they help you navigate all of your infinite and overwhelming options.  There he helped us find some great places. One restaurant owner found out we'd heard about his tiny perfect wine bar through Rick Steves and he exclaimed "I love Reek-a Stee-bez!" He's been Reek-a Stee-bez in my head ever since.  Guidebooks have their place, of course, and it's easy to fall to their friendly advice, especially when they use a friendly first person.  It's no wonder we start calling him Rick (or Reek-a).

On this particular trip, Mr Stee-bez hasn't been as useful-- some of the best parts of our trip weren't mentioned in his book and we benefitted from Dale's hours, well, actually days, of top notch travel researching (thank you!).  The limitations of travel books are totally understandable: I can see the appeal of his suggested Norway in a Nutshell approach.  There's one sentence, however, in his Oslo section that we initially trusted but later rethought and I'm very glad we (well, Dale, really) Eleanor Lavished this piece of advice: "This is one city in which you might just settle for simple or ethnic meals-- you'll save a lot and miss little." In our first hours here (and seeing the prices, we started to think Reek-a might be right.  Dale, however, started doing some research on Yelp and Trip Advisor and ended up finding some of the best and most interesting food we've had in quite a while.  Here are some of the highlights:

- The Mathallen: a fantastic food hall in the site of a former factory. Bright and airy and in the middle of an interesting area of town, the Mathallen was a great find. It opened last fall and featured high quality produce stores, bakeries, fish shops, beer shops, and other little deli style counters plus a range of high end small restaurants. Throughout, the emphasis is on local items. It was busy every time we were there: lots of people stopping for lunch or walking there with their babies in what seem like sport utility strollers (starting to think Hummer makes strollers now).

- In the Mathallen was one of my favourite places of our trip-- the Hello Good Pie shop. Not only does this shop have the best name ever, it also has the best little pies I've ever had.  We ended up visiting there three days in a row and talked with both the owners (one Canadian, one American).  Apparently, pies are new to Norwegian food culture and they're doing very well and opening a second location soon.  We had two lemon meringue pies and a strawberry pie with cream and caramel.  When we came back the second day, the owner laughed to see us again and I said 'I haven't been able to get this pie out of my mind for the last 24 hours.' It was hard to say goodbye to the Hello Good Pie. 

- Also at the Mathallen was a little kiosk/ deli featuring produce and food from the Valdres region. The girl who worked there was really knowledgable about the food of the area and we learned a lot talking with her. One of the things Dale was looking for was lefse, one of his favourite family foods.   We finally found some in this little store and it was used in a wrap with some sort of fish that tasted like smoked salmon but was described in much less appetizing ways: putrified was the verb I think she used. But we had it and it was delicious. She also told us lefse was primarily a Christmas item. It was nice to see lefse and Dale's sisters seemed very pleased to see the picture I'd posted of it. We also had a tasty beer from what is apparently the smallest microbrewery in the land. And elsewhere you could get the brown cheese Dale remembered his mum buying. Very lovely. 

-At the end of every year, Dale and I discuss what the meal of the year was and so far, the meal we had at Atelier Asian Tapas is currently in first place.

Everything was interesting, beautifully presented, fresh, fantastic tasting and innovative. And it was probably one of the best values of our stay in Norway. A similar meal would have cost about the same in Toronto. 

- We took the ferry out to see the Viking Ship Museum and ended up doing a long walk around the Bygdøynes area. We happened upon the restaurant for the Maritime museum which was strangely empty and beautifully situated by the river.  We shared a lovely prawn sandwich beside the water on a really lovely day. We had a wonderful chat with the man who worked there about Norway, Sweden and Vancouver. Sometimes a perfect lunch is about more than the food.

- We found the Oslo Mikrobryggeri and had some lovely tasty beers brewed there. We'd been told by an American living in Norway that you really cannot start converting Norwegian kroner into dollars or you won't do anything. He was right and I'm glad we went here. Here is where the bartender apologized for the prices on belhalf of the kingdom.

- Bugges burgers was a little neighbourhood place with good basic food, a nice atmosphere and fair prices. It was a nice find. We'd seen it and then were able to check reviews on our phones before going in. We went and had a beer on their sidewalk tables the next day. Yelp and Trip Adviser are really fantastic resources.

I think Eleanor Lavish would be pleased with what we found. It's funny: I'm missing Oslo already. See the next entry about Oslo. 

Sorry Cafe Visitors...

Low tech blogging 

Sorry visitors to Heidi's Cafe. All blog posts have been handwritten and are awaiting transcription and/ or a sufficiently strong wireless signal to upload them. I think I have 5 (illeg) to either transcribe or upload. Thank you for your patience. <3 h="" p="">

P.S. This is a Saison beer at the Micro Bar. And my current favorite Lamy pen-- extra fine nib. 

#7 Thinking about history: a day in Røros.

There's a different kind of history in Europe. In North America, much of our material historical past exists below the surface: bones, arrow heads, fossils and the like. How North America sees its history is likely the subject for another blog but in the past year I've been thinking both formally and informally about how we tell and preserve history, how we make it accessible, how we present it, how we preserve it, and how we tell stories about it. I've been reading lots, traveling to a range of historic sites, looking at web resources, and generally just thinking about how history is (re)presented in different countries. Particularly compelling to me have been historical (re)presentations in Ireland and the American South but I've seen some interesting things in Norway as well. 

I will confess to being embarrassingly ignorant about Norwegian history but after a week here, I'm slowly piecing things together.

I mentioned in the last entry that the Art Nouveau museum in Ålesund offered an interesting take on the presentation of the great fire of 1904. In some was, they wanted you to disassociate from today by going into the time machine. But then, in the historical narration of historical accounts (diaries, letters, documents, etc), they had videos of contemporary faces making eye contract with you.

 In a young woman's account, for example, they showed a video of a woman from today in her twenties looking into the camera, meeting your eye, and holding it. A very simple thing yet very powerful. This historical eye contact made the past personal, lived, and undeniably real. 

Our travels in the past few months have brought us to countries from which some of our people emigrated. For me, it was Ireland and that kind of history becomes complexly and emotionally real (perhaps the subject of another blog). Yesterday we were in Røros where some of Dale's family came from and he would be the one to write about that.

Instead, here, I'm thinking about how local history can be presented in very logical yet innovative ways. The example I'm thinking about is the hotel we stayed in. Presumably many of its guests are tourists, why not embed history into the space?

Many large hotels have art or decorations themed around a locale but this hotel did something much different and much more powerful: it embedded the history of the building into its rebuild. A former textile mill, this building had the usual sorts of things one might expect in a repurposed building-- the exterior was the same, original beams and pillars etc were incorporated into the new, modern design.  

All lovely. What really stood out to me however were the ways in which they embedded the building's own history into the repurposed space.  On the floor outside of our rooms, for example, they had three plexiglass boxes built into the flooring: one filled with bobbins, another with cogs, and another filled with something else (not sure what they were).

 Sorry, btw, about the quality of pictures, I didn't notice how bad they were until we left. The other thing that I really liked was how they turned the historical artifacts and documents into aesthetic objects.  

In the hall, a document of some sort (the extent of my Norwegian is hello and thank you) is turned into an art object. In our room, a historic photograph is modified into a different kind of art object and takes up almost all of one large wall and a document of another kind is framed as an aesthetic object.  

Also brilliant is a guide to what you see out the window on the window bench.  Brilliant. Thoughtful. 

History becomes not just something housed in museums or printed words in books. History becomes part of the fabric of the every day.

As I said about Icelandair, using everyday things like paper cups, napkins or hotel art as the means to make your nation's or town's history available and accessible seems like such a logical thing to do. Why then don't more countries do this? Or, maybe my question is really this: why aren't we doing this in Canada?