Let it snow let it snow let it snow

better late than never, my final few days in Iceland. I write this from a country with no snow, a bedroom with no fellow travellers packed in like sardines, a sky devoid of mystical green lights. It sucks!
I left us at Emma and Andre jumping in the sea. It was about 36 hours since I'd had to be rescued by a policeman after a bout of hypothermia, and I was still feeling cautious. Looking back, I kind of wish I'd done it, but at the time it was probably the smarter decision to have one dry person in case they'd needed looking after! The thermal lagoon at Nautholsvik was closed on a Sunday, if I'd had the option of that delightful, slightly sulphur-y bath afterwards I'd be writing a different story now!
That was the 11th, and was a day where not a great deal happened. Slightly exhausted from our ordeals, the three of us plus Eiden trampled wearily downtown to get a pizza in the early afternoon, and Andre departed for Denmark shortly afterwards. The 11th was probably my least notable day of the holiday really; no good wildlife, no drunken stories or anything! Still recovering from a hectic few days, I retired to bed at about midnight, having learnt a few handy drinking games from James. But (for once), retired no more than a bit merry.
James and I blew about 8500 kronor on a whale-watching trip on the 12th. I don't entirely know why; I knew it would be a waste of time, but I tried to convince myself we might see something like an Ivory Gull. In the event, no such luck, and we didn't see so much as a Porpoise or a Dolphin! The best sighting was 20+ Little Auks, and we could have saved a lot of time and about 50 quid by enjoying the one that could be seen in the Harbour, without even stepping on the boat! Also about today were a Merlin over Reyjkavik and a few Great Northern Divers in the Harbour. With a few hours before the off-licenses shut (they close at six here), we split the cost of some booze for the night, planning on staying in and enjoying some drinking games with everyone at the hostel. Budgeting, we found the cheapest thing going, a 40% bottle of Icelandic, Moss-flavoured Schnapps. I jest you not! Tastes truly dreadful going down the hatchet, though I forgot to ask James if its any better coming back up the other way. I can't see it being worse! Again however, my refrain would shock you all to the core. I got very lucky on the games, meaning I probably got the least drunk of everyone, although I do still remember buying a bottle of red wine as a gift, so I can't have been a model of sobriety. That's my final memory, the next thing I remember is waking up in bed at about 9. Slightly worried about this lapse, I checked with everyone and apparently I simply wandered back up to bed at about 1, failing  to embarrass myself in any substantial way, which disappointed me. I've barely ever suffered a "Hangover" style loss of memory, no matter how much I drunk, so I was hoping for a tiger in the room at the very least.
The 13th was my last full day in Iceland. With Rhys (Australian traveller of snowman building fame, see my second Iceland blog), and Johnny (from Toronto, all round nice guy who wear Iron Maiden vests in the snow and owns a Coyote pelt), I went to the Phallological museum. This quirky little institution, with only about three rooms, is one of the best spots in Reykjavik for the curious traveller, hosting quite possibly the most complete collection of Penises, and their related culture, in all of western civilisation. Ranging from the Blue Whale (a good few metres) to the Field Mouse (2mm at most), and with paraphernalia ranging from a film poster for "The Final Member", to a poem about a Walrus's penis. The latter was so good I had to relay it back to you!

Strange things have been done in the midnight sun

and the story books are full

But the strangest tale concerns the male,

magnificent Walrus bull!

I know it's rude, quite common and crude,

perhaps it is grossly unkind;

But from first glance at least, this bewhiskered beast

is as ugly from front as behind

Take a look once again, take a second look then,

you'll see he's not ugly or vile

There's a hint of a grin in that blubbery chin

an the eyes have a sly secret smile.

How can this be, this clandestine glee

That exudes from the Walrus like music.

He knows, there inside, 'neath blubber and hide

lies a splendid contraption- The Oosik! 

"Oosik" you say - and quite well you may

I'll explain if you keep it between us;

It's the simplest truth, though rather uncouth,

"Oosik" is in fact - his Penis!

Now the size alone, of this walrus bone

Would indeed arouse envious thinking -

It is also a fact, documented and backed,

there is never a softening or shrinking!

This then is why, the smile is so sly,

The Walrus is rightfully proud;

Though the climate is frigid, the Walrus is rigid,

pray, why is not man so endowed?

Added to this is a smile you might miss -

though the bull is entitled to bow -

The one to out-smile our bull by a mile

is a satisfied Walrus cow!

I don;t know who wrote this poem, I doubt they're british, but all the same I hope the government immediately offers them the position of Poet Laureate, for life. It was certainly a wonderful memory to be one of the last I'd take home from Iceland with me. If you're visiting Reykjavik, have a wry sense of humour and appreciate something a little bit alternative, this is one of the top places I can recommend visiting. 

A few new arrivals from Australia, France and America had arrived on the 13th, and being the friendly types, they came and joined us for what would be my last night of drinking in the hostel. I was required to get up at about 4.50am for the bus back to the airport, and James sensibly went to bed at about 11. A few more beers, shirtless snow angels and photos with a Coyote pelt later, and I realised it was 2am and everyone else was turning in! Time for goodbyes to the people I'd met on this wonderful holiday, and presumably cramming an hour or two's sleep in myself. Thankfully Johnny and Joey, one of the Americans, were still suffering from an American body clock and weren't ready to hit the hay yet, so they helped keep me awake, discussing Falconry and the Army (Joey was an Iraq veteran, and had some interesting stories), and showing me Canadian TV (which might be an important thing to have a grasp of in a few months time!). Then, before I knew it, it was 5am, James was up and, both too shattered to utter more than a few brief words, we hopped on a few buses, took a flight to the airport, and were back in Manchester Airport at 11am. I slept the majority of the journey, and of the National express coach that took me as far as Victoria, before catching a train to Seaford. And, like that, the adventure was over. Home by 11pm on the 14th, back at work on the 16th, normal life feels almost resumed by now, the 19th. 

It was a great trip in so many ways though. I always find travelling pushes me to do things I might not have known I was capable of otherwise. if you'd told me on January 4th that I was about to jump in the sea, survive a near-death experience, drink, dance and laugh with total strangers from almost every continent on earth, have snowball fights on frozen lakes and eat a rotten shark, I'd have thought you were mad. It started out for James and I as a birding trip, on which we'd planned to spend a few days socialising and experiencing Reykjavik's feted nightlife. However, while I'll remember some of the unforgettable birds we saw, for me the people ended up dominating the holiday far more, and became the much more memorable component. Travellers are a unique, unruly, dishevelled bunch, but I'm proud to finally say I feel like one of them. I think that first experience of "proper" travelling, living out of a backpack in a cramped dorm, and making friends with whoever happens to be around, it what I'll remember Iceland for the most when I'm old, grey and wistful. 

Thanks for reading, if indeed you have. If you scrolled all the way down to the bottom and missed out a whole chunk, you make me want to vomit. I'll be back with a "tips for Reykjavik" post when I get the chance (I'm not quite ready to say goodbye to Iceland yet!), and after that, who knows! The world is my Oozil... 

Baby its cold outside

Every day brings some new form of adventure at the moment, which is truly wonderful. I've met some great people, done some memorable things and have an awful lot of stories to regale you all with!

The 8th started out absolutely brilliantly. It was Mustafa's last day, so I joined him heading up to the observatory at Perlan. It gave stunning views of all of Reykjavik, although it was very, very windy on the observatory deck. Well worth doing if you ever visit Reykjavik, and probably the best place in the city to see the Northern Lights, if you can get a clear night! After this, we went to Nautholsvik, a beach with a thermal pool. Now this, you simply HAVE to do in Reykjavik! It was by far the highlight of my time so far. it will sound crazy, but jump in the sea first, splash around for a few seconds, then very quickly run back to the hot tub! As the Icelanders told me, it's both very good for your skin and provides an endorphin rush. To be honest, I became something of a junkie for it! Mustafa and I ended up doing dares, which culminated in me making a snow angel on the beach before I ran back into the tub. After this I ran around the beach once, and I felt crazily good afterwards, pure and total bliss. There was a sauna to go into afterwards, there were men swimming in the sea, Snow Buntings and Ravens kept flying overhead, and I felt like I'd truly discovered a secret of why Icelanders seem so content and kind. If you did this everyday, you would be too! 

I didn't really do much birding that day, though I did see a Merlin fly over. We had a great night chilling out with new friends from Australia, Canada, Brazil and Sweden, and about seven of us crammed into a taxi in the end to head out into town. We went to a club called Kiki, but it was almost dead on a Thursday, and I headed home fairly early. I think I was somewhat disappointed, as the lack of atmosphere simply couldn't compare to spending 500kr for the most blissful, enjoyable two hours imaginable. 

James and I attempted to go birding on Friday 10th, but a theme of the last few days has been very heavy snow cover, and we were almost constantly entrapped in blizzards today, giving up and going home by about half 1. I then slept for a while, before we headed out again. 

Kiki was a bit more lively, but I will remember the night more vividly for what happened when I left. Anyone with any concern for my welfare may choose to skip the next few paragraphs, as it illustrates beguiling stupidity that damn near killed me. 

I was drunk enough to allow myself to be slightly roughly accosted by three guys who took me into a different bar. Realising by the time I was in there that this might not have been the best idea, I pretended to go and order a drink, then walked out of the bar. The guys were probably nothing more than friendly, but I was probably too intoxicated to handle myself or judge the situation well enough that my safety would be guaranteed. Although I can't imagine any scenario could have worked out much worse than what transpired. 

I attempted to get back to Kiki, but it was about 2am now, and an ID guy was at the door. I then decided to walk home, drunk and, I should add, wearing a jumper, a shirt and a thermal layer. I almost well up with shame when I think how moronic it was, but I feel like I should write everything in here, the good and the bad. It will come as no surprise that I got lost. I know enough about hypothermia to recognise the symptons though, so I found my way into a hotel lobby. It was nowhere near warm enough for my liking though, and all the doors were locked. I was so desperate I half-heartedly attempted to kick a window a few times, but it was quite a tough one. So that was where I spent the next hour or so. 

The one thing I know about hypothermia is that falling asleep in the cold is a truly awful idea. Therefore I stayed awake any way possible, sobbing, terrified and screaming for help. When it became abundantly clear nobody was getting anywhere near, I just started gibbering. I tried to barter with a God (incidentally, the first and hopefully last time in my life I'll ever pray), and I believed there was CCTV in the lobby, so I started preparing my last words, in the hope the police would then pass on what I'd said to my family. I can honestly say I have never been so terrified, so aware of my own mortality and so alone in all my life. Although I think that awareness , which also manifested itself in my rudimentary knowledge of how to look after myself once I knew I was in trouble, is probably what saved my life. Eventually I caused enough noise that someone called the police complaining about a disturbance, when the officer found a sobbing british tourist with chattering teeth he took pity and drove me home, rather than doing anything else. 

It's easy to get a bit cocky about the cold, especially once you realise that you can cope with something as freezing as seawater for a short period of time. And not only that, but that it can give you an adrenaline/endorphin rush that it very enjoyable. But if you're coming here, or any other country with this weather, I beg you not to take as many stupid risks as I took. I was lucky, you might not be. 

After that rather sombre note, I can safely report that the next few days have been a lot happier. I basically spent the morning/afternoon of Saturday recovering from my dice with death, but I was feeling happy enough to go out again that night with some fantstic people I've met at the hostel. Andres is a Swedish journalist with a remarkable lifestyle I'm in awe of, while Aiden and Emma are two Americans studying in Ohio, though from opposite corners of the country. I'd given up on keeping a budget for drinks by this stage, so I may well gasp in horror when I see my debit card bill, but I've had several months of near constant working, so I've got a lot more money saved away than what I took to Iceland in Kronor. And I don't know when I'll next get the chance to experience a place as incredible as this, so I see no harm in blowing a bit more cash. 

Saturday night was fantastic. Wrapped up properly against the elements, and with some lovely people, we trawled as many bars as we could, had some drunken snowball fights (one was on a frozen lake with five Filipino tourists), danced a lot, and decided it would be a great idea to dip our feet in the one section of the lake that wasn't frozen. Don't worry though, I have learnt from my previous mistakes. I'll never get into a situation where I'm that out of control with the cold again, as the next story can testify!

Andres, Emma and I decided to go down to the thermal beach, as neither of them had seen it. Unfortunately it was shut, but Andres and eventually Emma dived into the sea to experience it anyway. I'm afraid I was having none of it this time! Doing crazy stuff like that is fun, and totally recommended by this traveller, but not if you're unsure whether you'll be safe. It was a long walk back to the hostel, and if either of them were in trouble they'd have needed someone to look after them. Fortunately everyone was fine and a wonderful experience was had however, and I can leave Iceland, when I eventually do, a lot wiser than I was before. I'm more aware of my own mortality, which is probably a healthy thing in the long run. And I've now got three more days to squeeze as much joy out of this country as I can possibly manage. I'll write soon with how successful I am. 

 

Do you wanna build a snowman?

January sixth was James and I's first full day in Iceland. Having crashed out at 10 the previous night, I was up at 4am, about the same time James came home from clubbing! I got up, wrote a blogpost, surfed the web for a while and then decided to use some free time to practice a bit of meditation, which probably got me a few odd looks as people woke up and went to the toilet. I eventually fell asleep again at about 7, getting up for good at 9.30am, just before it started getting light. 

James and I then went for a wander around the city to do some birding. The further north you go, the less species you see, but there are some pretty good ones! Redwings, an attractive thrush with a bright red patch on their flank, were everywhere, and extremely tame. Our regular British crows don't occur in Iceland, and so in even the most urban spaces Ravens have taken their place. Snow Bunting, a hardy species rarely seen in Britain away from windswept beaches and remote mountain tops, are a garden bird, and flocks numbering dozens would intermittently fly overhead calling. 

an Icelandic Redwing

We wandered around, totally failing to find our way to the harbour for about an hour, until at last a map of the city was found! The harbour looked excellent, with Glaucous, Iceland and Kumliens Gulls, Purple Sandpipers, Black Guillemots and Eiders all seen. Unfortunately, several blizzards interrupted the birding, reducing visibility to merely a few feet! 

Reykjavik Harbour in a Blizzard

We then stumbled across a crowd of 200 or so people watching a stuntman in Reykjavik Harbour, who leapt from a burning jetty moments before an enormous fireball exploded, and then swum to shore! It was one of the most surreal moments I have ever experienced, and until I heard applause and a voice shouting through a megaphone, and noticed the film crew, I genuinely thought the man was in terrible danger.  

After this excitement, we found a bakery where I ate an enormous bread-like thing covered in chocolate, for the very reasonably price of 290Kr (about £1.75). James was, however, feeling a bit worse for wear after his night out, and so we got a taxi back to the hostel and he slept for a few hours. 

As I was sitting chatting with Diego, the Manager, and Marcia, a guest from Brazil, fellow backpacker (forgotten her name!) from Southampton suggested we go outside and build a snowman, to which all enthusiastically agreed! It took a while before people were ready, in which time we'd woken James up, and made friends with Ben and Reece, two Australians who had just arrived. James then went with Marcia to pick up some groceries, and the remaining four of us spent about 45 minutes in the parking lot outside creating our masterpiece! 

(above) a Masterpiece of human endeavour, (below) myself posing next to said endeavour... I was too damn lazy to rotate the photo, just tilt your screen or bend your neck sideways!

After this I met Daisey and Mustafah, from Boston and New York, and James and I wandered around Reykjavik with them in ridiculous weather looking for a place to eat. I'd been somewhat spontaenous and neglected some essentials, nothing serious. Just a hat. My ears may have turned black and need amputation, but its all good. We did have a nice meal, though I was economical and went for a soup. We then tried to find some decent places to drink, but Reykjavik on a Tuesday is quiet! Nowhere was open for dancing, which was a bummer. They were lovely company for the night out though, which they'd have to be, given I was losing all my extremities to frostbite. I now write to you one-eared, three-toed, six fingered and without a nose, which will make the rest of the trip complicated. 

I'm somewhat plastered as I type the write up for 7 Jan, so I apologise for any typos! James and I woke at about 10:00, headed down to the harbour and, despite atrocious weather for the morning/early afternoon, had a fun times birding! A horrendous duck (probably an abnormally pigmentated Long-tailed Duck, but resembling a weirdly pigmentated and far rarer Harlequin Duck) was seen in the Harbour, alongside regular species like Eider, Black Guillemot, Shag and Red-breasted Merganser. We then saw a spectacular Gyr Falcon (the largest and most impressive falcon in the world) and a Green-winged Teal (a rare vagrant from North America) later in the day. 

an incredibly dodyg, abnormally pigmented bird that's probably a Long-tailed Duck (above), and a Green-winged Teal, which is at least a bonafide rarity (below), (C) James Common

After debating long and hard the ID of the ugly duckling, we spent the evening with Mustafah, a friend from the hostel who was enjoying his last evening in Iceland. We drank lots of Viking Beer (theres a bar near the Haebour where it is very economically priced), and when went to Bravo, where we made friends with some delightful Dutch and Australians, whose technically excellent dancing put to shame my bold but extravagant attempts to match them. Over the course of the day, I also had many interesting conversations with various Ozzies about healthcare, Gay Rights and the man-demon that is Tony Abbott, and I feel like generally we put the world to right. The dancing was, of course, off the charts, but words simply can't describe such extravagance! 

Bless to you all, and I'll faithfully write with my next update as soon as possible, Liam xD

Fire and Ice

well it's currently 5am on my first full day in Iceland. Having gone to bed at about 10, I'm now awake six hours before daylight. To say my body clock let me down is an understatement and a half! But still, what better opportunity for my first blogpost from this lovely place!

The journey started the way al good journeys do, with an overnight National Express coach... Unusually, I did get a handful of hours of sleep in as we ploughed from Brighton to Manchester Airport. I was then allowed a few more, as the coach got me there so early, it was 4 hours before the gate would open! A hint for weary travellers, if you need to sleep in an airport on the floor, lie with your head resting on its side. If you sleep with your head buried into your arms, it looks a bit more like you're sobbing/having some kind of breakdown, which draws more attention to you and makes disturbance far more likely!

James, my travel buddy, arrived at about 10:30, and it was roughly a 2 hour wait in the departure lounge before we could board the flight. We arrived in Iceland at about half three, and I was pleasantly surprised to note that it doesn't get properly dark until about 17:00; maximising massively our birding time for the next few days!

The journey to our Hostel caused some worry, at least for me. The drivers limited grasp of English and almost impenetrable accent didn't help, nor did the Bus's tendency to move at a pace that would have made walking quicker, and occasionally stop altogether before he restarted it. This did at least give us a chance to admire fabulous Icelandic scenery and architecture in the failing light! It must have taken about an hour and a half, but eventually, James and I arrived at the hostel.

My first opinions on it are absolutely fantastic! Diego, the Manager is friendly, relaxed and great fun, and we've already met some lovely people. I've managed by first glimpse of Aurora Borealis, a bewitching green ribbon of light, pouring through the sky to the west, although the views weren't brilliant. Hopefully we'll get a chance to get out of the city and see it properly before too long.

James headed out with a few other hostelers for the night, arriving back at about 4am. Having failed to have the luxury of a decent amount of sleep beforehand I declined, retiring after a plentitude of Cava, Vodka and Beer to bed at the tame hour of 10pm. I shall sample the nightlife (and attempt to get into somewhere despite being underage in Iceland!) another time. Till then, (I promise this really does mean goodbye in Icelandic) Bless!