So basically, Iceland is mental

Since arriving here about 6 days ago I’ve climbed a glacier (and wandered around inside it), walked behind the biggest waterfalls I’ve ever seen, eaten horse, gone swimming at night surrounded by mountains and under the stars in a naturally heated pool, stood on icebergs, wandered on black beaches, eaten eggs boiled in hot pools, and been part of a hell of a lot of jumping photos. Every one of the people I am with owns a sophisticated DSLR but still loves to take action shots. I’ve also seen the Northen Lights dance across the night sky in such a trippy green way that I was almost sure I’d made them up. 

 I have learnt to speak way slower because - apart from one Canadian and one Australian - every person here uses English as their second language. This makes me both translator and elocutionist, as well as feeling ashamed that I only have one fluent way in which to speak. I have fallen deeply in love with my Doc Martens, which are apparently resistant to acid, but more importantly are resistant to every type of Icelandic weather, which is incredible.  I have learned to cook for 18+ people and make them enjoy it, to drink black tea from a pint glass when all the cups are being used, and to layer up approximately twelve pieces of clothing in various arrangements to cope with the changing weather. Showering naked is also getting a bit more familiar, and soaking in hot pools on Reykjavik roofs under the stars is an experience that never gets old.

I’ve also discovered that Icelandic music is wonderfully ridiculous, for the following reasons:

- many Icelanders dance like they’re trying to hit an invisible enemy. Some also sit down to watch heavy metal. This is amazing to watch

- Vikings are TALL. But they will actively crouch down so they look smaller, and sometimes will move to the side to make sure you can see. They’ll also make sure you know when ‘the big song’ is about to start

- bouncers can be persuaded to let you jump the queue if you flash your ‘artist/staff’ wristband, your work gloves and wear an annoyed expression while explaining how you have to collect garbage. First queue jump I’ve ever completed successfully

- the venues range in size from Reykjavik’s new concert hall space, suitable for Bjork and Sinead O’Connor, to coffee shops, the corners of bars, and hostel living areas

- Every act I’ve seen so far after Airwaves Day 1 has an obvious Bjork influence, is incredibly confident, and watches each others shows religiously, so standing next to the glitter-covered lead singer of Mammut while you’re buying beer is not as crazy as you’d think. She’s very blonde and jumpy

The first day of the festival is over, and there are four more to go. This means a plethora of new bands and maybe a couple more hours of picking up rubbish, which is honestly a small price to pay for a free ticket - and our staff wristbands indicate a strong likelihood of managing to sneak into the Bjork concert on Sunday.

Now the search is on for an authentic (but also CHEAP) Icelandic sweater, for some way to make my hair less gross & windblown, and to continually avoid the feeling that I should at least sample the fermented shark meat. I’ve watched two people eat it, and their reactions weren’t as bad as I thought. But I smelt it. And that smell was bad. I’ve already eaten cured horse meat, that might be enough for one trip..