Easter in Akureyri

I apologize for the delay, dear readers, for 7 days ago I journeyed to where no raven dare fly. I only pray this raven reaches you in an acceptable time, though I know my hopes are dwindling. I have returned from my festive travels north of the Wall and lived to tell the tale, but I dare say to brace yourselves, for it is not worthy of the faint of heart. 

Translation for those of you who still possess your lives and souls because you didn't give in to nerdy peer pressure (yet): For the Easter holiday, my host family let me accompany them to Akureyri (and the surrounding areas) where we had a simply delightful time.

(And where I was not... not... pretending to be in Westeroes the whole time...)

It was truly a gift to see more of (breathtaking) Iceland on our drive there, around, and back, and I spent much of my time staring out the car window quietly while my visual cortex exploded with ecstasy. I have to admit I'm not one to take a lot of photos through car windows, and therefore have most of the stunning imagery left imprinted in my brain and not pixels to share, but I did take a couple elsewhere in Akureyri.

The cute street of colorful houses our flat was on.

The church.

"The heart is a muscle" is the ironic phrase that entered my mind when taking this photo.

Akureyri from our side of town.

Across the fjord.

One of my favorite places we went was tiny little town called Fjallabyggð, which I can safely calculate is the most north I've ever been on Earth (though to my disappointment, I still didn't find John Snow). I didn't realize how little time I'd have to take pictures here, so I hope to go back and do it proper justice one day. For now you get a half-done panorama (ain't nobody got time for that) and a wee little boat.

Easter in Iceland is a pretty big holiday, so big in fact it's celebrated over 2 days. What? You've never heard of second Easter? Pfft. Although they know nothing of a the (slightly creepy) easter bunny, everyone does receive big chocolate eggs full of candy and toys (me included, thanks H, SJ, R, and S!).

I thought a lot about Alex during this trip, obviously because of Easter, but probably more because Akureyri reminded me a lot of Interlaken, Switzerland-- a stop we made while on a very emotionally complicated backpacking trip through Europe 6 months before he died. Even now I'm still not used to him really being gone. Will that thought ever cease to take my breath away? The only thing to soothe my shriveled heart in these moments are the funny memories that tenderly pop into my head of the life we lived together. I know these are a personalized gift of comfort from him, and the very things that keep us connected in our temporarily different existences.

The Shark Eater

Last night, after some intense games of Pictionary at the church (I was on the winning team every time, by the way), my friends and I found ourselves with some free time. "What should be do?" we asked ourselves. In true boredom fashion, we soon we found ourselves wandering at the local grocery store looking for inspiration. Then it hit us.

It was time to try the shark. Yep, the rotten Icelandic shark.

When I was researching Icelandic-y things during the almost 6 months I waited for my immigration paperwork to go through, Hákarl almost gave me enough reason to inform my host family I would not be coming. What sort of place catches a toxic shark, buries it in the ground for 6-12 weeks, hangs it out to dry for a few months, and then EATS it? Come on, Iceland, so many WTFs going on there.

But, when in Rome, right? I had seen it at the store and flea market over the last month, but I couldn't bring myself to eat it just yet... I needed the sweet melody of peer pressure in my ear.

Squishy and fishy and unpleasant to eat in the way dog food is probably also unpleasant to eat, but the smell! The smell is what really gets you. It's the sort of near-tangible stench that drenches your hair and skin and violates your senses for hours. My Icelandic friends, however, ate it right up with joy.



Thankfully we had enough foresight to purchase some other Icelandic foods, but in the sweeter and more palatable variety. So, I also tried a cute little traditional chocolate Easter egg (the normal ones are much, much bigger) and a especially yummy holiday drink. Anyone who knows me knows I love a good delicious beverage, and this is one of the most delicious I've ever had. It's a Malt with Appelsin, which is akin to an orange soda O'Douls. I like neither orange soda nor O'Douls, but if you put it together and make it Icelandic, it's simply lovely.

Daisy Can Keep Her Dollops

Alright, America, it's time to get with the program. I know you like to believe you're the greatest country in the world, the innovative leader in, well, everything, but since living in Iceland I've learned one thing: you're not.

I know you're probably rolling my eyes and thinking "Ah yes, here it is. Miss Loveless has become one of those uppity pretentious Europeans, and she's only living in Iceland for a month. Gag me, what a dummo." And to that I say "Hush, uncultured swine! America has been living in the dark ages! Let me show you why, and I defy you to disagree with me."

Here is some regular ol' sour cream:

Do you see what's going on here?

AMERICA. DO. YOU. SEE. THIS.

Now, I'm not saying this doesn't exist anywhere in America, but I am saying it doesn't exist enough for me to have ever seen it or used it in the 24 years I lived there. Do you know how convenient this is for tacos?! Gone are the dark days of splashing a giant chunk of of sour cream in the middle of a tortilla and trying to spread it around with a spoon like an idiot! We know that never works and yet we still try EVERY TIME! Here, in the progressive country of Iceland, we get evenly distributed sour cream ensuring every bite of our tacos equally delicious.

America, go ahead and keep your outdated dollops, but this is the way of the world now.