Notes from Café Hljómalind

I have escaped from the blogosphere, trying to create some Real Text maybe. The Icelandic darkness has also been physically the toughest winter experience in my life so far. Sleep has been deep and abundant. Coming to another darkness than the domestic one also takes its toll. At the moment, we only have 5 hours of very low sunlight, and the sunny days can be counted with the fingers of one hand. Today it's gray and slushy up to your knees.

Luckily, last Saturday was stunning weather-wise and I had lovely driving friends over from Finland (thanks to P, T and the kids again...). They rented a car and we almost completed the famous Golden Circle. Now as a word of warning, even many of the Icelandic "main roads" are difficult to access with a normal car when there is snow on the ground. We missed road 365 between Thingvellir and Geysir. But finally we got to Geysir before it got dark, and just at that twilight moment the experience was otherworldly (despite the frozen toes).

I am working today at Café Hljómalind, and maybe will have another coffee session at Babalu. These two cafés have been the ultimate joys in Reykjavik urban life. Hljómalind is the meeting point of everyone enjoying spelt in their diets; Babalu is slightly more relaxed, offering larger pieces of cake that I suspect are baked with white sugar (gasp!). What I particularly love about Babalu is that the owner doesn't speak Icelandic at all. Old Norse and I are no longer in speaking terms; we only whisper half-words every now and then.

Last week I almost wrote a poem, and I am continuing that still. It's about climbing up Nönnugata in the old part of the city. I love old monasteries and nunneries, or memories of them, wherever I go. The last similar moment was two years ago in Aalborg, Denmark. This year the saga has been continuing through encounters with Carmelite nuns.

There is no Christmas shopping hysteria in Reykjavik, at least the financial crisis has this positive effect on the culture. There are candles and flowers everywhere, and people take Christmas lights quite seriously. But I don't see people with bulging bags around. Nobody pushing or shoving in the shops. No kids with temper tantrums. How come, oh how come?