up to speed

so, to bring us up to speed:

i left manitoba via bus on july 28th and had a semi-brutal 2 days on a bus to toronto. whipper-snappers, jocks and bus breakdowns (at 3h00) provided me with a continual advertisement of flying vs. bussing and made me wish i was a sado-masichist. got to the toronto greyhound bus terminal at 9h00, paid 60 bones for a cab to the pierson international airport and hung out there till 17h30. chanted my flying mantra of "trust the engineers" (thanks jen) and made it to halifax
by 21h00.
ran to catch my flight on iceland air, and got on the plane with a bunch of blonde haired tall beautiful people. the stewardesses were fierce and european and made you quake in your seat when you asked for orange juice from their little trollies. they give you a pillow and a blanket! which i assumed you could take with you (which very few other people seemed to assume). after about 4 or 5 hours on the plane dawn broke on us and we saw the Atlantic endlessly huge and deep, horizon to horizon. we were perched by the windows waiting to catch a glimpse of this still fictional island of tundra and vikings and bjork. and we did eventually see it. its dull pallette and strange broken surface made me think of a Mucha print of the moon, or plains in Mordor. the island's edges gently rise out of the sea, the coastline gently erratic.
we touched down in Keflavik around 5h30 icelandic time and went through customs (again). i went to pick up my luggage and pleasantly found that the big plastic container labeled "fragile" had a side smashed in, but was still semi-functional, and my bike box with the Torpado in it seemed A-O-K. i grabbed the 2nd taxi outside the airport, interupting the driver's breakfast of coffee and croissant, and hit the road to Reykjavik.
it turned out that the driver was from a northern icelandic town and sang in an icelandic choir! his choir had toured the faroe islands (magical islands near here), parts of canada (including gimli) and the states. he pointed out the blue lagoon and other sights of interest in the mostly barren landscape: the old UN base, a pipeline transferring geothermal water, a big aluminum plant owned by a canadian. the roads are well made with strange foriegn signs with odd color schemes. traffic composed of almost entirely new european vehicles. traffic circles and light to mid density urban planning (when we finally got into the city). its a good thing i got a tour with the cab ride, because 11000 icelandic krona is a lot to pay for a 40 minute taxi ride.
Reykjavik was still asleep when i arrived at my flat at 64 miklabraut. the house looks grey and military, like every other house on the fairly busy 2 lane street. i waited around after finding the door locked. talked to a guy waiting ackwardly one stoop over ("i locked myself out, and my girlfriends out of town"), and borrowed his mobile to call my landlord Thorsteinn, whom i woke up.
he let me in at that un-godly hour and, bleary eyed, even gave me a bit of a tour. up past his flat on the 2nd into the top unit on the 3rd. the angle of the roof describes the edges of all the rooms with big skylights everywhere (which open!). 2 cute little bathrooms and 6 separate bedrooms in which (supposedly) 5 other foreigners lay curled up in their sleeps. Thorsteinn is a character (a very nice one). he makes me think of a character out of Guy Ritchie's 'lock stock and two smoking barrels'. hes squat and round with many freckles and tends to sweat profusely. lets you borrow tools and pay the rent whenever.
so the first day i spend dealing with jet-lag and icelation just getting my bearings. i rebuilt the Torpado (bike), but couldn't get air back in the tires until the day after. walked around reykjavik, giddy that THIS was my home for the next year.
the streets are narrow and all the houses about 2 or 3 stories tall. there are many slopes and gentle ups and downs which makes the city feel a little maze like. many rooves are metal, and the way things are built seems a lot different than north america. and people park their cars wherever the fuck they want. all up and down Miklabraut there're cars pulled up on the sidewalk half askew. and in the background always with the back drop of brown barren mountains in the distance. the city has a lot of wealth and tourism, so the streets nearly sparkle (puke) and there are lots of cute little shops that i'll probably never enter.
so the first day i just wandered around and slept a lot, and hung out with my german roommate Pascal, who is leaving for berlin in 2 days.

2nd day i got some air in my tires and zipped all around Reykjavik. its small! and fun to bike in. the streets are quite smooth and narrow with lots of speed bumps, traffic circles, and erratic tourist drivers to play with. i biked by the university of iceland and downtown. stopped in a little flea market and looked at some random shit.
Pascal had his going away party last night and i got to meet a bunch of people here. there were 2 montrealers here who i glommed onto, 4 germans, 1 swiss, 2 frenchies and an american. it was a whoop-la. the germans taught me a dexterity based card drinking game which was without name until i called it 'dangerous german game' (DGG) which seemed to stick. they also told me how to say uber-Scheisse (ultra shit) and omni-Scheisse (all shit (roughly)). i learned some basic icelandic and german and got to speak french with the frenchies and quebecers. we ate a lamb feast and got shit-faced off of wine and the german vodka. it felt really damn good to joke around with people and make some friends. big relief. and a good start, i think (knocking on wood).