ICELAND.

I'm just gonna get some thoughts and events down so as not to forget. Maybe I'll clean them up later.

I have been living in a dream for the last 24 hours. Partially because I am jet-lagged and seriously sleep-deprived, but mostly because I'm writing this from Reykjavik, Iceland.

Elisa and I flew to Denver first, and then straight to Iceland. The second leg was 7 hours and we flew over Greenland and were low enough to see the coast and glaciers. I tried to take a picture with my iPhone, but it's just black; I'll probably instagram it anyway.

We were unlucky in that the seat between us didn't stay empty, like we'd hoped, but we were lucky in that a very kind Icelandic man was its occupant. He chewed pungent tobacco, studied singing at a music school in Reykjavik, and invited us to an Opera. He was kind and well-informed about music and the night-life. I asked him his name, but alas, cannot remember it.

When we got off the plane, we descended straight onto the tarmac. This was my first impression of Iceland: There is no warmth left on earth. A blast of icy wind hit me in the face, and we made a mad dash for the airport. Customs was fine, and we struggled a little to find our bus [which was less of a bus and more of a mini-bus, or less of a mini-bus and more of a mini-van], but we made our way eventually. The driver was quiet but courteous. His white-blond hair stuck up in different places, and he had a habit of running his aged hand back and forth along the top right side of his head. His wedding ring was shiny gold. Barack Obama was on the radio for a few minutes, but mostly it was just Icelandic.

We got to the hotel at 8 am Iceland time. Our room wasn't yet available, but we were able to stow our luggage and get our thermals on. We ran to the grocery store and picked up some supplies for breakfast and lunch. Again, I was shocked at how much colder it was with the wind blowing. We then returned to the hotel lobby to await the tour-bus taking us to Silfra to snorkel in the continental rift. They were very late. We ate breakfast [rice pudding!] and got more and more tired. Finally, our guide Hoessi showed up in a van and we were underway [only 40 minutes behind schedule!].

Hoessi was a gem. He was also attending Iceland Airwaves, and gave us some great advice on which bands to see. See, he [being an Icelander - or, rather, a Dane raised in Iceland] made it a point to see primarily Icelandic bands because that is who he knows. This was fortuitous because neither Elisa nor I know very many Icelandic bands at all. He also told us about the elves in Iceland, about the rocks that people cannot move and the contracts made with the hidden people. Halfway to Thingvellir, he got a phone call informing him [and us] that we'd have to cancel our snorkeling trip because the weather was very bad. So, no snorkeling [though we may be able to reschedule for the weekend if this incredible storm blows over].

Back in Reykjavik four hours early, then, we decided to go get our Airwaves wristbands, pick up our Sigur Ros tickets, and then to explore the city. Reykjavik is so wonderful because everything is within walking distance. We went to the harbor, saw a statue of Iceland's founding father, and were nearly blown away by the ever-increasing wind [seriously; it's the most insane wind I've ever experienced]. There was a great second-hand shop, and lots of places to buy Lopapeysurs. We took tons of pictures.

We returned to the hotel an hour before check-in, but our room was ready anyway. Everything about this hotel is chic and modern. The lights are a little dim, and the shower is made of some concrete-looking materials. Maybe pictures later. Anyway, we got in, ate our lunch [koko mjoelk, an egg and veggie sandwich, and a delicious chocolate bar], planned our concert lineup, and then took a great 4 hour nap.

At 6 pm we woke up, showered, and felt a million times better. We went to a great fish-and-chips place for dinner. By the time we'd finished, though, the line for Purity Ring [a band I was really looking forward to seeing] was down the block and around the corner. And all outside. In the freezing cold and wind [SERIOUSLY THE WIND]. So we decided to ditch the PR show in favor of a warmer alternative. Gamli Gaukurinn was right across the street. The Echo Vamper was about to go on, so we decided to see what that was about. The club was dark and beautiful, filled with dirty, angel-headed hipsters who smelled of smoke and cold. I fell in love with every one of them.

The Echo Vamper came out on stage - a Danish woman and her British lover. She was wearing panty-hose and a pair of hairy black arm-warmers with electrical tape x's on her chest. I was skeptical. But wow what a show. The lyrics and beats were reminiscent of LCD, but instead of James Murphy, the lead singer was a bad-ass screamer who played theremin.

We hopped clubs a few more times and then ended up at the Harpa Kaldalon hall by the ocean. The weather was getting steadily worse. I was nearly blown off my feet. There we saw Biggi Hilmars, who was charming and adorable. He played swelling music and had a sweet cellist. Then, we moved seats so that the band 1860 could sit together [they didn't know we recognized them, BUT WE DID]. Then Ewert and the Two Dragons played. It was so great. More on that later.

By the time we got out, it was 1 am. We could see the northern lights, and the wind carried us home.