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Turning elf tricks

Monday, September 3rd, 2007

Iceland is known for it’s connection to the magical world of elves, sprites, trolls, ghosts and just about any other mythical backyard being you can think of. I haven’t had the chance to meet any of these beings during my stay but did come across an amusing letter in the Reykjavik arts and entertainment newspaper on this topic:

Dear Editor,
I recently read an article in a Swedish newspaper that said that in Iceland it is possible to meet with elves, or as you often call them in Iceland, ‘the hidden people’. I have long been fascinated by elves, ever since I saw the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I am a big fan of Legolas.
I would like inquire if it is possible to book an appointment with an elve when I come to Iceland, preferably in its natural surroundings rather than in a display booth? Where should I turn? Do you pay by the hourly rate, and are discount rates available? Also, is there a bar in Reykjavik frequented by elves? I would love to meet one outside of their working environment.
Thank you so much for your time,
Goran
Vaxjo, Sweden

Dear Goran,
Thank you for your letter. Several people will claim they can put you in touch with elves. I am not familiar with any specific website that makes this sevice available, but you might want to seek out Salarrannsoknarfelagid, (www.srfi.is) an association of Icelandic spiritists. I am not sure what elves charge for their services, but I would imagine that they follow similar rates as taxi drives, with a starting-fee of 450 ISK. Elves would most likely attend the live music venue Organ, since their interest in music and dance is very well documented. I would say that is your best bet to meet an elf outside of work.
Hope this helps,
Editor.

Last Week in Iceland

Saturday, September 1st, 2007

My last week in Iceland

It’s been an amazing final week up here in this glacial valley of Skagafjordur.

On Tuesday the foreign team, AKA non-Nepali boys took a mission up to the hot pots of Saudakrokur. These beautiful little pools are situated on a point overlooking Drangey Island, a meeting place for millions of migratory birds including puffins. There is some debate as to whether the ocean here is the Arctic or North Atlantic. Since oceans don’t really have borders and I’m on the north coast of Iceland, I’m going to say it’s the Arctic, which means given my rather short dunk I’ve swum in all the world’s oceans.

On Wednesday we got a day off to hike the tallest peak in the valley. It was clear, allowing us spectacular views of the massive Hofjokull and Langjoskull glaciers.


On Thursday our boss Maggi surprised us with an impromptu shotgun shooting competition.

Friday’s rain brought out the adrenaline in some of us and we went creek hunting, hoping to kayak some waterfalls. We missed the window on this creek, but Chris and Yuji had nice runs of Reykjafoss. I’m a pansy and opted out.


Then came today with my last run of the East River, and oh what a fun trip it was. The rain’s brought the river up to a fun level and I got a five load of big Icelandic electricians keen for a wild ride. I specifically asked them what kind of run they wanted down the most difficult rapid, the Green Room. There were plenty of hoots and horned hands so I figured that after the second drop I’d head back up steam into the hole and see what happens. Here’s what happens:




One of the larger guys didn’t have a good time of it, however. In the case of large men in one-size-fits-all life jackets you never know what’s going to happen when you add this combo to churning, boily white water. In this case the dude stayed down a long time, in the green room, as we call it. By the time he hit the surface he had reasoned he would die. His brain at some point told his lungs to take a big old swig of oxygen as is the case when one’s panicked. Unfortunately for Ollie or whatever his name is, he hadn’t reached the surface yet and exploded from the swirling waters a sputtering, vomiting mess. By the time the flip was cleaned up and I reunited with my crew he just stared me down with his blood shot eyes and washed out face and said ” you bastard.” It’s all fun and games until somebody thinks they almost drowned. Rafting is over, my time in Iceland has come to a close. It’s time to go back home.