Of Guides and Men - a joint oeuvre by Emma and Berglind Steins

So there are currently great discussions about the tourist industry within the Icelandic society. 

Indeed, tourism is on the verge of becoming the primary source of income before fishing, which historically has been the main provider for Icelanders over the last 10 centuries.

And if it doesn't become the primary source of income, people still seem to think it is.

Guiding is a GREAT job. It's really fun, exciting, diverse, challenging, you name it. It is varied.

You can be an excursion guide and spend your days sat on a bus blabbing down a microphone with the occasional walk, your chief concern being where to find the next toilets (for your group), and not to eat too much of the nice food at the hotel in the evening (for me), or you can guide groups up into the mountains, rediscovering and sharing the rough beauty of the country and sucking the marrow of life. 

That's for the cliché, and it is true, as far as I'm concerned.

But there is another, dirtier side to it : let's face it, the job doesn't pay well.

Sure, it pays in different ways – the afore-mentioned – you get to travel, see beautiful places etc etc, but we certainly work for it !

Depending on your trip, you can be up at 6.30 am making coffee for the mornings and finish your day after dinner in the evenings. That's a 16 hour day. (sometimes it's more)

You also have the preparation time – one doesn't just improvise – not always !;-) You also have to read up on things and places ! Etc etc. It is a great job, but also a challenge.

Anyway, my point is : the other day I ran into Berglind Steins' blog. She's a guide, a translator (I swear I'm not her!) and a blogger, and defends the rights of guides at the Guides' Union.

Berglind very gracefully allowed me to translate one of her posts into French and English - to broaden the audience and maybe bring to some peoples' attention that despite being a fantastic job, the life of guides in Iceland is not only a dance on roses. 

 So here is the translation of her post in French, see below for English, and thanks for reading, sharing, and generally supporting us and caring about Iceland :-)

"Depuis des décennies, les guides d'Islande se battent pour la reconnaissance officielle de leur emploi. En espérant, bien sûr que cette reconnaissance entraîne une hausse significative des salaires, la priorité à l'emploi pour les guides certifiés et une meilleure sécurité de l'emploi, tout en gardant aussi à l'esprit les intérêts du tourisme et de la nature.

Il est important que les différents acteurs du tourisme travaillent main dans la main.

Le nombre de touristes a augmenté rapidement ces dernières années et la tendance semble se confirmer pour le futur proche. Si la plupart des touristes vient en été, le tourisme hivernal augmente rapidement lui aussi. Récemment, en une seule soirée, 30 bus d'excursion avec guide ont ainsi transporté leurs passagers voir les aurores boréales.

Personnellement, je ne suis pas férue de ces sorties  : il fait nuit, on doit travailler dans le froid, et rien ne garantit qu'on verra des aurores.

Si elles se montrent, le client est content – dans le cas contraire, il faut expliquer au passager déçu pourquoi il ne les a pas vu et l'amuser par d'autres moyens.

L'excursion peut durer jusqu'à 6 heures. J'ai même entendu parler d' un couple en sortie « aurores boréales » qui a fini à Akureyri, c'est à dire à 375 km de Reykjavik d'où ils étaient partis.

Le couple voulait s'offrir ce vieux rêve à l'occasion de leur anniversaire de mariage. Par expérience et au vu des prévisions météo, leur guide savait où il serait possible de voir des aurores et leur vœu fut donc exaucé. Le couple paya le prix exigé, là n'est pas l'intérêt de la discussion. Mais il faut avouer que ce genre de service est difficilement réalisable quand on part avec un groupe de 60 personnes dans un bus de 70 places.

Les différents acteurs du tourisme doivent travailler main dans la main, disais-je donc. J'entends

les voyagistes qui conçoivent et vendent les voyages, les guides, les chauffeurs, les cuisiniers, serveurs, le personnel hôtelier et celui des agences touristiques.

Permettez-moi pourtant de me concentrer sur le travail d'un guide : nous les guides devons maîtriser la langue dans laquelle nous guidons, nous devons connaître la géologie, la flore, la faune, l'histoire, la culture, l'actualité, la musique, le football, avoir des notions sur le pays d'origine des clients, connaître le système des retraites, savoir raconter des histoires et des blagues. On nous pose des questions sur les médicaments qu'on peut produire à partir de la lave, le prix des graines, la tectonique des plaques, Sigur rós, Of Monsters and Men, l'Union Européenne, l'armée – quoi? Comment cela pas d'armée?- les transports publics, le prix comparé de telle ou telle chose, des recettes, la mousse, la lave, la température de la mer, les horaires des marées, le plus vieil arbre, le plus haut sommet, l'accès à internet, l'alphabétisation – Et que font les gens dans ces zones reculées de toute façon? - Comment faites-vous pour avoir autant de champions d'échecs? - Pour quelle raison Bobby Fischer a-t-il cherché asile ici et pourquoi l'avez-vous accepté? - Où est-ce que je peux manger ce soir? - Comment est le système de soins/des impôts/ scolaire? - Où en est la crise actuellement? - Dois-je donner du pourboire? - Où y a-t-il un magasin qui vend des produits Nikita?

Si un client tombe malade, nous devons fournir des soins médicaux de base, être compréhensif et compatissant. Au dîner à l'hôtel dans les circuits longs (le tour du pays) on explique ce qu'il y a dans les assiettes. On passe le petit déjeuner à répondre à des questions concernant le programme de la journée, alors qu'on l'a répété 10 fois dans le bus la veille avant d'arriver à l'hôtel.

Les gens sont en vacances et ne font pas attention à tout. Ils ne sont pas en examen, et ont donc le droit de perdre le fil de temps en temps - est-ce que je dois prendre mes affaires de piscine aujourd'hui? Et mes chaussures de randonnée? Comment est la météo? - certains comme les Italiens ou les Espagnols ne comprennent souvent que leur propre langue, et préfèrent donc être accompagnés par leur guide en permanence, que ce soit pour les sorties à cheval, en bateau, ou les randonnées sur glacier le soir – qui peuvent être après le dîner, le cas échéant.

Il est exclu d'être dans un mauvais jour. On doit être toujours de bonne humeur, être en permanence ouvert à toutes sortes de questions auxquelles on se doit de donner des réponses si possible courtes et néanmoins précises qu'on peut toutefois éventuellement développer plus tard si on a le temps.

Il n'est pas bon de veiller tard si on ne veut pas le regretter le lendemain; si par malheur on se réveille en retard, c'est l'apocalypse. On ne peut pas aller chez le docteur sur le temps de travail (ce qui est courant en Islande) – eh non, on doit prendre sa journée – bien sûr, on ne peut pas le faire sur le temps du déjeuner, puisqu'à ce moment-là on peut être aussi bien en train d'observer des oeufs à Djúpavogur ou le port à Höfn, ou encore être en promenade vers Svartifoss ou en train de faire la queue à la station-service de Vík, avec un client qui veut une soupe chaude pour le déjeuner et n'arrive pas à sortir de la queue où l'on ne vend que les crèmes glacées.

Ok, j'arrête.

Si vous n'êtes pas vous-même guide, je comprends qu'à ce stade vous pensiez: « pourquoi ne pas arrêter de travailler, alors? Pourquoi s'être embêté à suivre les cours à l'école de guides? » Et même: « C'est impossible de faire tout ça en même temps, vous rendez-vous compte de ce que vous affirmez ? »

Bien sûr, tous les guides n'ont pas les mêmes compétences, et certains ne seront jamais bons, même en allant à l'école.

Mais les bons jours, c'est tellement chouette d'être guide... parce qu'il fait beau, que les clients sont de bonne humeur et intéressés, et qu'on se sent tout à fait bien. On partage les choses qu'on aime, on entretient ses langues étrangères, on sort de la ville, on se promène au cœur d'une nature enchanteresse avec des groupes des gens enthousiastes, talentueux, curieux et ouverts, et on en apprend nous-mêmes davantage sur le monde des autres.

Cependant, un salaire de 1.512 couronnes de l'heure (en horaire de jour) à l'échelon le plus haut met plutôt vite un bémol à ces journées de bonheur. (ndlt : 1.512 couronnes = environ 9,5 euros de l'heure à l'échelon le plus haut, à mettre en perspective avec le niveau de vie/ coût de la vie en Islande)

C'est pour cette raison qu'il y a un grand roulement dans la profession ; beaucoup de guides s'arrêtent après une semaine ou une saison, d 'où une perte en expérience pour la profession et d'où la proportion importante chaque été de guides fraîchement sortis de l'école - ils guident avec plaisir jusqu'à ce que la réalité les rattrape… On ne peut pas vivre à l'année avec de tels salaires.

Nous sommes presque tous des travailleurs indépendants, ou plus correctement, des contractuels, qui n'ont rien de ce à quoi ont droit les employés permanents. Et pourtant... la formation à ce métier coûte des centaines de milliers de couronnes : 760.000 isk (4750 euros) en formation continue à l'Université d'Islande et 350.000 ISK (2000 euros) à l'Ecole de Guides d'Islande de Kopavogur. Il n'y a aucune sécurité de l'emploi, quasi aucun employé permanent (4% environ), pas de congé de maladie.

Mais bon hein, la société négocie déjà le salaire minimum et nous les guides avons bien entendu la possibilité de négocier des salaires plus élevés – à voir toutefois si les agences de voyages acceptent de payer plus..."

ENGLISH - 

"For decades, Icelandic guides have fought for official recognition of their work. Imagining of course that recognition of our work would ensure a significant increase in our salaries, priority employment for certified guides and better job security. But also keeping in mind the interests of tourism and nature.

In the tourism industry, you have to work hand in hand.
The number of tourists has increased rapidly in recent years and the trend seems likely to remain constant for the near future. While most tourists come in summer, winter tourism is growing rapidly too. Here is an illustration : recently, in just one evening, 30 excursion buses with their guides transported passengers on so-called Northern Lights Excursions.
Personally, I 'm not terribly keen on these : you have to work in the dark, it's cold, and there is no guarantee that we will see the aurora. If we do, then those who have come especially to see them are happy – and if not, you have to explain to an unhappy crowd why they were disappointed, and entertain them with something else. Excursions can last up to 6 hours, and I even heard of a northern lights trip that left from Reykjavik and ended in Akureyri... It was an old dream of the couple's for their wedding anniversary. The guide knew from the forecast and his own experience where the lights were most likely to be seen and fulfilled their dream. They paid the price, that's not the problem, but this kind of service is hardly possible when you are with a group of 60 people on a 70-seater bus.

In the tourism industry, partnership matters, said I.

By this, I mean that tour operators who design and sell trips, guides, drivers, cooks, waiters, hotel staff and the tourist offices have to work together.
Let's focus on guides. We have to be fluent in the language in which we guide, we must know about geology, flora, fauna , history , culture, current events, music , football, have some knowledge of our customers' country, know about the pension system, be capable of telling stories and jokes. We get asked questions about the medicine that can be produced from lava , the price of grain, plate tectonics, Sigur Rós, Of Monsters and Men, the European Union, the army - what? No army? How come? - public transport, comparative prices of such and such, recipes, moss, lava, sea temperature, tides, the oldest tree, the highest peak, internet access, literacy - And what do people do in these remote areas anyway? - How come you have so many chess champions ? - Why did Bobby Fischer seek asylum here and why was he granted it? - Where can I eat tonight ? - How does the health care / tax / school system work? - What's become of the recession ? - Should I tip ? - Where is there a store that sells Nikita products ?

If a customer falls ill, we need to provide basic medical care, be understanding and compassionate. In the evenings at the hotel on long trips, we spend our dinnertimes explaining what's on the plates. At breakfast we have to answer questions about the program of the day, even if we repeated it 10 times on the bus the previous day before arriving at the hotel.
People are on vacation and do not pay attention to everything. It's not a test, and they are allowed to lose the thread from time to time - do I have to take my swimming stuff with me today ? And what about my hiking boots ? How 's the weather ? - Some nationals like Italians or Spaniards often only understand their own language, and so prefer to have their guide with them at all times, whether for riding or boat excursions or hiking on a glacier in the evening – all of which is sometimes after dinner, for that matter.

Having a bad day is not an option. We must always be cheerful, be constantly open to all kinds of questions to which we must give answers neither too long nor too academic except occasionally.
It is not good to stay up too late if you don't want to spend the next day paying for it, and waking up late can have catastrophic consequences. You can not go to the doctor's during your working hours (which is common in Iceland ) - oh no, you must take the day off - of course, you see, you can't go on your lunch hour either, since at that time you might just as well be in Djúpivogur looking at eggs or on the pier at Höfn in Hornafjörður, or on a walk to Svartifoss or queueing at the service station in Vik with a customer who badly wants hot soup for lunch and can't make it out of the “ice-creams only” queue.

Ok, I'll stop.

If you 're not a guide yourself I understand that by now you might be thinking " So why don't you stop working, then? Why did you bother going through guide school ? " And even : " Do you really think you can cope with all of this? I mean, you can't possible know everything! "

Of course, all the guides don't have the same skills, and some will never be good, despite going through school.
But on good days, it's great to be a guide ... because the weather is wonderful, and the customers are happy and interested, and we feel on top of things. We can share things we love, keep up on our language skills, our job means going out of town, walking about beautiful landscape in the company of interested, enthusiastic, talented people, and we learn a lot about other people's worlds.

However, a salary of 1,512 crowns per hour (daytime) at the highest level seriously puts a damper on those days of happiness. ( NB: 1512 crowns = about 9.5 euros/12 ,4 $/ 7,6 £ per hour at the highest level, relative to the cost of living in Iceland )

This is the reason for the high turnover in the profession; many guides stop after just a week or a season. Hence a loss of experience/professionalism for the industry. Hence the large proportion of newly graduated guides each summer - they are very happy to guide until harsh reality hits and they realize they can't live through the year on such wages.

We are almost all of us self-employed, or more correctly , contractors, who are entitled to nothing of what permanent employees have rights to. Training for this job costs hundreds of thousands of crowns : 760,000 ISK ( € 4750 / $ 6200 / £ 3850 ) in continuing education at the University of Iceland and 350,000 ISK (€ 2000 / $ 2870 / £ 1770 ) at the Iceland Guides School in Kópavogur, and yet there is no job security, almost no permanent staff (about 4% ), and no sick leave.

But hey, the community already ensures minimum wages, and guides are more than welcome to negotiate higher wages - if travel agencies are willing to pay more, that is ..."

I care about Iceland. I love its  raw beauty, its wilderness and quietness, and all the rest of the clichés you've heard about this country, which incidentally happen to be true.
In fact, I care so much about it that I went to guiding school, so that I could learn to share the country's beauty, and learn to educate others about how to enjoy nature without disturbing it.
 That way I hope to participate in maintaining its beauty.

When I first came here, I was struck by the fact that one could often hear silence, and that one's horizon was not spoiled by endless rows of advertisement signs on the side of the road. Tourist sights were unspoiled, and mostly very clean. (obviously, the fact that there was still a moderate number of visitors to these places at the time made them easier to manage and keep clean)

Today, the number of visitors is increasing amazingly fast. It's probably great for local economy, but it also has a negative impact on the land, as people have started to realize of late. The land's sustainability has recently been the subject of discussions in the Icelandic media and on Facebook.

I used to love going places where there was, unlike in other countries, no fence between you and a waterfall, no ropes emprisoning nature, just a couple of small signs saying "beware, hot springs", but no stupid sign stating the obvious ("if you fall down this 100m cliff, you might die, so be careful" "if you put your hands in this 100°c water, you might burn yourself" etc etc)

There were none of these, because people were considered responsible and intelligent enough to judge for themselves (or that's the reason I like to imagine, anyway)

Today, I can only deplore that Iceland seems to be becoming like other countries. Has to subject to international rules on imbecility, and signs are popping up here and there "slippery when wet" (no shit???), "burns when hot" and that kind of stuff.
Not to mention signs advertising tourist attractions, companies and etc, which are more and more present on the side of the road... Iceland is so fashionable at the moment, and there seems to be such a shortage in accomodation anyway, that one would have thought them quite unnecessary. 

Also, wherever I go today, whether on the Golden Circle, the south coast, Skógafoss, Seljalandsfoss, Þingvellir, all the places that are in bold on the international tourists' map, I am struck by how dirty they have become, in just the last couple of years. It is very saddening.

I am not even talking about the fact that paths and vegetation are being trodden down; that is an unfortunate consequence of welcoming more visitors, and some sacrifices have to be made. Not so long ago, it really pained me to see that the walking path leading into Dimmuborgir had been paved (as in tarmacked), I assume to avoid more erosion. Tarmac looks extremely out of place there. But between an ugly tarmacked walking path allowing people to enjoy the site whilst staying off the vegetation, or having people walk all over the place so that nothing can grow, a choice had to be made between the lesser of two evils.

The things that bug me are rather the « minor » things, the things that don't have to be, those things we CAN change by acting differently. Small bits of papers. Paper handkerchiefs. Plastic bottles. Chewing gum. Cigarette stubs. COINS in the rivers, for heaven's sake!

It may seem very romantic to throw coins into a hot pool or a beautiful clear river. Only remember that if YOU are the first person who throws a coin («It doesn't matter, it's only one coin »), this one coin will be followed by others, and many more. And there goes the beautiful unspoiled river/pool/fissure. (Cf, the fissure in Þingvellir or the pool in Geysir for instance)

Chewing gum. Is small, but will not disintegrate for ages. It is already unpleasant to see chewing gum on pavements in town, but it really has NOTHING to do outside in the nature.

As for cigarette stubs on the previously unspoiled ground, it's just revolting... I don't even know what to say, but I think you get my point. (by the way, the lifespan of chewing gum and cigarette stubs is up to five years. Plastic bags and packages, anything from 100 to 450 years)

The other day I was at Seljalandsfoss. There were plastic bags on the ground, the paths were muddy and crappy, loads of stubs and stuff everywhere! I'd never seen it so dirty, a real heartbreaker!!
Last year, already, I had become aware of the problem, when walking up Skógafoss in early March, just at the beginning of the tourist season. I remember, one morning I had counted (and picked up!) 33 different pieces of garbage on my way up. Considering it was early March, I'll let you guess what it looked like later on in the season. I'm really worried of what it'll be like this year.

Tourist sights in Iceland are usually equipped with garbage disposal areas or dustbins. They're easy to see, and not difficult to use.
It's basic respect, when you go somewhere, leave the place as clean as you find it.
If unfortunately you didn't find it as clean as you would have liked, it IS in your power to leave it cleaner than you found it.

People mostly come here to get a taste of unspoiled nature, and should make sure their followers get their share too. It is EVERYONE'S responsibility to keep the place clean. Not only people who are paid to come and repair the damage once it's been done. And it's not only up to guides to educate people; it IS also people's own responsibility to respect the land.
Enjoying nature starts with respect, for nature itself and for other people.

Visitors to Iceland want untouched beauty when they come. We still want it when they leave. With everyone participating, we all benefit from it.

But anyway. I know this ranting may seem ironical or exaggerated, considering the tourist industry feeds me. But that's the thing.
I don't want Iceland losing its independance and becoming a tourist trap full of souvenirs made in China and kiss-me-quick hats.
It deserves more.

Þetta reddast II

Now that I've talked about the dark side of Þetta reddast, let's illustrate the bright side of it.

In my opinion, right now, hardly anyone embodies the spirit of “Þetta reddast” better than Ólafur Eggertsson, the farmer at Þorvaldseyri.

(Picture courtesy of Baendabladid) 

For several reasons I will go into later, he was already well-known in Iceland. But since the eruption in Eyjafjallajökull in 2010, he's probably turned into the most famous (living) farmer in the whole world. Not that I know anything about it, mind you, but considering the number of people/TV and radio channels that have been interviewing him over the last two years, one could only assume so.

Considering I live only 10 km away from the farm, and drive past it several times a week, and having heard of Ólafur's reputation as a pioneer, I have always been quite curious to visit the farm. And considering I'm learning about agriculture in Iceland for the guide school, and generally have an interest in stuff like that anyway, I ended up calling Guðný, Ólafur's wife, to ask if it would be possible to come and visit their installations.

I was received by Ólafur, who despite being rather overbooked at the moment (just this week an article about the farm was published in the Icelandic farmer's paper Bændablaðið (see page 12) and another in the Reykjavik Grapevine) he took over 2 hours of his time to chat with me about the farm and show me where they produce the oil and pack the flour.

I was extremely touched by this warm welcome !

The farm Þorvaldseyri stands right at the foot of the Eyjafjöll mountains, and has been in the family for the last 3 generations. Ólafur's grandfather Þorvaldur bought it off the local sheriff cum famous poet Einar Benediktsson.

Ólafur's father Eggert was the first farmer to grow corn in Iceland in the 1960's, and whilst most of the other farmers abandoned that cereal after a few years, judging the result was not worth the trouble, Eggert decided to keep on growing it, and Þorvaldseyri is now the largest corn producing farm in Iceland.

The management of the farm is a family business. From what I understood, Ólafur and his wife look after the cereal (culture and transformation) whereas their son and daughter-in-law take care of the 60 milking cows of the estate.

In 2008, Ólafur introduced rapeseed on the farm, with the intention of producing rapeseed oil.

The results were conclusive : it is possible to produce good rapeseed oil here in Iceland.

You need 15 tons of rapeseed to produce 5 tons of oil.

The oil is cold-pressed.

Some of the oil goes towards the production of cooking oil, and the rest is used as motor oil on the farming machines.

The leftovers of the pressed seeds are turned into fodder for the animals.

It is all very (and impressively so!) green !

In 2010, Eyjafjallajökull erupted, hitting the farm hard. Tons of ashes covered the arable land, turning the growing cultures to waste.

(picture courtesy of google- hope I'm not breaking any coypright by borrowing it)

But far from being deterred, Ólafur and his family, who seem to always understand the possibilities in the world around them, decided to turn this heavy blow from fate into something good.

Only a year after the eruption, they opened an information centre about the volcano right next to the farm. The  clou  is a 20 minute film about the eruption, the effect it had on their farm and how the family stuck together and went about getting over it. The pictures are beautiful and it is very moving.

At the information centre, you can also find the farm's products : rapeseed oil, wheat flour, barley, and soap made from the rapeseed oil from the farm.

And the other thing Þorvaldseyri produces, which I find prrrrrrrrretty cool, is cereals from barley.

It's actually called Byggi (bygg = barley in Icelandic). 

Personally I find non-flavoured biggy completely tastes like cardboard (I mean : if I ate cardboard I'd probably find a similarity between the two) but it's really healthy, no additives, and if you eat it with yoghurt and/or fresh fruit, it's great. It comes in several types : cardboard flavour (wink wink), cinnamon and sweetened.
I also love the simplicity of the packaging, and above all the fact that I can get cereals produced 10 km from home:-)

Think global, buy local !!!!!

Ólafur and his family (as far as I can tell) have always been pioneers, extremely resourceful in using what was in their surroundings to make the best out of things.

When everything looked dark, instead of sitting on a piece of cold lava with his heads in his hands, Ólafur decided to get up and do something about it. The result speaks for itself.

 And that, my friends, is the true icelandic spirit of Þetta reddast.

Þetta reddast...

One thing I was very surprised to notice, when I came to Iceland the first time, was how extremely similar to Cubans Icelanders seemed to be, at least in my world view.
Example :

 A Cuban

An Icelander

So what ? How  that?

Well for one, I've never seen so many people eating pineapple (on pizzas, mostly) as here in Iceland but that's not the point.

I suppose the first thing that strikes people upon arrival is not commonly a resemblance with the Caribbean.

Fair enough, Iceland is an island, consequently surrounded by sea and fish and stuff, and people here do what people on islands do. 

And we do grow bananas here (at least 5 of them a year, making Iceland, the largest banana producing country in geographical Europe (yes my dear !) but that's pretty much where the resemblance stops : mostly, Icelanders are not usually internationally renowned for swinging their hips to the sound of salsa through tropical nights.
Although I guess we do have the local equivalent of swinging through the night drinking opal or brennivín by the gallon to the sound of eighties hits. And if you want to add a bit of spice, you can say under the northern lights – which incidentally have been very active recently, since it's the Equinox …...

So let me explain.

There is a certain je ne sais quoi, here, a trait of character one could call carelessness, if one decided to see it in an only-negative light.

But if you look at it positively, you see a beautifully dynamic streek that makes everything or anything possible.

It is so much part of life that Icelanders have coined an expression for it : « Þetta reddast » , which roughly translates as « it will work out, somehow or other ».

Understand :

« Whatever I do, it'll be ok in the end, so I'm not actually going to bother putting chances on my side by doing anything particular about it »

or «  I have better things to spend time on, so I'll just fix that in the first way possible and hopefully it'll work out somehow or other »

And the fact is, it usually does !

For a big-scale example, see the eruption in Heimaey in the Vestmann Islands in 1973 : the lava flow that was devastating the island, and threatening to close the harbour – one of the most important fishing harbours in Iceland, and only means of subsistance for the 5000 inhabitants- was stopped by pumping sea water on it, and the inhabitants thus saved part of their town and their means for survival !

In Cuba, the « Þetta reddast » was illustrated to me by more basic examples, such as mending a flat tire with a chewing gum, a screwdriver and a condom; or judging by the state of most windows, using what looks like toothpaste for putty.

Apparently I'm not the only one who noticed these similarities, though : see Alda's description of what she calls the southerners of northern Europe in her delightful, clever, witty, very informative  blog the iceland weather report)

But the reason why I'm writing about it today is because I was served with a perfect example of this yesterday, illustrated by this photo I took.

What's this, you may reasonably enquire ?

This, Mesdames et Messieurs, is a house or rather, a skál, which can mean either “bowl”, “cheers” or mountain hut, depending on what sentence you use the word in, but let's stick to the subject.

In fact, it's the new mountain hut that is to replace Baldvinsskáli, which really was in dire need of replacement.

Just above Skógar, is the volcano Eyjafjalljökull (yep, that one) 

and an extremely popular hike leaves from Skógar going all the way to Landmannalaugar, through the national park of Þorsmörk and across the Fimmvörðuháls pass, where the new craters are. 

 

Anyway.

When you leave from Skógar, after a few hours' walking, you get to Baldvinsskáli  ; a first mountain hut at 920 m where you can sit around and have a rest before carrying on upwards towards the pass at 1100 m.

Recently though, the skál was becoming more and more derelict. Scabby, smelly, the kind of place people were (unfortunately ! Shame on them!) beginning to leave their garbage rather than taking it away with them as one should do .

When I was there last year, already it was so dirty that the weather allowing, we decided to rest outside rather than in.

And a friend who was there a few weeks ago picknicking inside, weather oblige, heard the door open and a tourist saying « there's a body inside! – oh wait, no, it's moving !»

Says it all, really.

So today, the institution in charge, Ferðafélag Íslands if I'm not mistaken, took a further step towards replacing it. 

Bravo.

And so the new mountain hut, was brought on wheels to Skógar , already built, to be taken up on the last leg of its trip, to an altitude of 920 m along a narrow mountain dirt road which considering the rain at this time of year, is very muddy and squishy.

Hence the photo.

Fact is, the blessed souls in the fluorescent gear started at the bottom of the road around 8 am. And by 5.20 pm when I took the picture, they had come no further than about 200 meters.

Now, really I don't want to sound bitchy, was that really the simplest solution (one could come up with) ?

- Considering that we are at sea level, that the road which leads up to Baldvinsskáli is a dirt road, that shoots upwards to 920 m on a very short distance, and is therefore steap, and currently extremely rocky, muddy, wet and soft.

- Considering the weight of such a house, and its width, and the fact that just at the beginning of the road, there are two gates NOT large enough to let a truck carrying a house through,

…. could there not have been a better way to go about it ?

Was it really that necessary to bring the house pre-built ?

Sure, it had to be constructed at some point anyway, but would it not have been just as simple, say, to take the pieces up to the pass and build the house there ?

Maybe the people from FI didn't want to spend to much time on the pass; the weather is unpredictable, and not so brilliant at this time of year.

When I took the picture at 5.20 p.m, a.i 9 hours after they'd started, the second “unpassable » gate still lay ahead. When I looked again at 11 pm and they'd gotten through at last.

15 hours to get through a whole 200 meters !

Without any irony now, I have to salute their tenacity. Surely they got the best foretaste ever of what Sisyphus is spending the eternity doing and I will think about them in awe (well, maybe I'll laugh a bit too....) each time I have a sandwich in the new clean skal.

The weather was extremely wet today, and despite everything, the guys gave their best to make things work out somehow. But I can't stop myself from thinking it might have made their life easier if someone had taken 5 minutes to sit down and think it all out.

But hey, it all worked out in the end and the result is all that counts.

Þetta reddast

Summer's almost gone...

Summer's almost gone...

 

 Beginning of September, tourists are getting fewer and fewer...

Even the birds have left their headquarters...

... to start migrating... (mostly flying, but some of them walking, apparently!)

It's nice to have a bit of quiet after the chaos of the Summer months:-)

Autumn is nestling in gently, with the colours changing and the clear air turning crispy in the mornings.

The mountain-ash trees are crumbling under the weight of berries : this year the Summer has been so exceptionnally good that there was an unexpected quantity of berries just waiting to be picked ! Yummy !

In fact Þórður, the 91 year-old curator of the museum has been saying repeatedly that he has never known a better Summe...

Last night, we had the first frosty night of the year in Skógar, and it was ever so quiet, this morning when I woke up. 

I couldn't resist going out to take the pulse of the day... 

Apparently there is a massive storm forecast for tomorrow, starting tonight...

It's so peaceful right now, you'd never believe it...

 

It's the time of year when farmers start gathering there sheep from the mountains. 

You can see them flocking together, like little balls of cotton rolling down the bright green slopes.

 Autumn is a time of changes for everyone, and I for my part, have decided to go back to school again.

My challenge for this year is to get a certification as a guide, so that I can legally be allowed to walk around Iceland guiding groups of frenchies and yaring important cultural stuff about the country at them all the way :-)

The slight "challengy thing" lies in the fact that most of the courses (and therefore exams) are in Icelandic. 

E.g, what I don't know in Icelandic right now, I'd better know pronto!

Since March 2008, I've spent roughly 2 and ¾ years in Iceland now, and over this time, I've become fairly acquainted with the language.

People often ask whether icelandic is a difficult language to learn... 

The answer is no, it's not. 

But hell, speaking it well really is!!! :-)
 (Though saying that, I have to think about my cousin Dan who succeeded in learning Japanese from scratch in a few years...respect!)

However,  I have to say, there is a step between casually talking about the weather in shitty grammar and disclosing really amazing facts about medieval litterature :-)

Jæja....

It's all very exciting....

Have a nice Autumn!! :-)

Sud

Sometimes pictures speak louder or better than words.Here are a few I took these last few days in South and North CatalunyaFirst on the spanish side
Cap de CreusPort de la Selva
Yum! First time I ate cuttlefish aka sepia aka seiche.

Then back to the North on the french side

Amélie les Bains Still charmingly "vieille France"...

And Palalda...

Makes me think of a scene out of "Kill Bill"...


Oranges in February!
A walk up in the mountains this morning.El Canigo, the highest peak on the french side. Well, at least on this side of the french side... :-)
Looking rather neat!

Sant Marti peaks, as seen from Santa Engracia

Leaving tomorrow.
It's always too short.

And so it's rolling on again.

I'm back in Iceland again, have been for some months and staying for another few days.

A few months ago, immediately after I arrived here again, I decided to stop this blog I had started 3 years ago (actually the day after I came to Iceland for the first time) , on account of 1) having little of interest to say and 2) just finding it harsh to express things in a light way

The other day, I was, as often on a week end, at the local fleemarket with a friend, when who should I bump into but some other friends from France, Iceland fans who are here on their 3rd visit.
They are both extremely talented artists in their own way: Corinne works glass and Philippe works metal, a good combination for a great couple :o)

Anyway, they have a blog also, and looking at it the other day made me want to post a few pictures again.

Incidentaly, yesterday I went on a trip to Snaefellsnes, so here's some food for the blog.
First stop next to Raudamelsölkelda The car I was renting in the foreground. A big bugger, and it looks tiny on the pic. Serve it right. As I got closer to where the glacier Snaefellsjökull stands, I tried to get out of the car several times, and you know what? Seriously it was SO freezing and windy I had to hop back in immediately! At some point it even took me a couple of MINUTES to close the car door, it was blowing so strong.
Incidentally, I wonder if the glacier is not trying to send me a message.
Last time I went to S. it was the same story (see end of post on the link).
Car almost flew away.
Maybe I should eat more breakfast and weigh myself down.