Wednesday 17 September 2008
Sunday 14 September 2008
Bypassing Blue Lagoon
On summer holidays in Kolkata, Pushan, Bunti, Rohit and I would walk down to Jamuna cinema and watch classics like King Kong and Where Eagles Dare. The only "Blue Lagoon" I had heard of before today was a steamy-looking "A" rated film that they used to show trailers for at Jamuna.
Today's Blue Lagoon was equally steamy, but it wasn't just A rated - there were kids, babies, and 80 year old grandpas all enjoying it's overpriced joys. The Bláa lónið is a manmade spa about 15km south of Keflavik near a geothermal power station where the salts and silica in the hot spring water are supposed to be wonderfully curative, especially for psoriasis.
Both Andrea and Unnar thought that the 2300 ISK (about 25 USD) price was way too much for something that was essentially the same as a neighborhood swimming pool which costs a lot less. I thought it might have been worth it if I was planning to spend a couple of hours in it and had psoriasis, but not otherwise, so I skipped it. But the water really was very blue (thanks to the silica and salts).
The rest of the afternoon was spent happily wandering the Reykjanes peninsula with A and U (and little Björkvin of course). We started with the giant who lives in a cave overlooking the Keflavik Marina:
(that's her bed!)
Followed by the spot where the rift between the north american and european continental plates is only a few metres wide:
(the rift cuts through diagonally across Iceland, from the SW to the NE, so Iceland is geographically neither Europe nor N America, though it is European historically, and visually / architecturally / drinking-fountain-ly / shopping mall-aly North American (I have almost never seen a drinking fountain in Europe, and there were tons here)
Then we drove down to watch the waves crash into the shore (on a very windy day) at Reykjanesviti:
And stopped on the way back to see some icelandic horses and a geothermal power plant blowing it's nose (they release high pressure steam from newly drilled bore holes to remove all the rocks/dirts until they get pure/nearly pure steam):
(Icelandic horses are much valued internationally because they're super hardy, docile, intelligent, and have a fifth gait unlike other horses that have only four, called the flying pace which, done well, can apparently feel like flying along the ground because it isn't as bumpy as a gallop)
The 'american' feeling was complete when we ordered Pizza from a takeaway on the former US military base where A and U live now!
ps. Chris' excellent game flitta was a big hit on Sunday morning. I was telling Andrea and Unnar about it in the morning and by the evening, Unnar had the highest score (and when I checked just now, he'd beaten that again, and someone called Jarmi is running him close - am guessing he's one of Unnar's friends).
Today's Blue Lagoon was equally steamy, but it wasn't just A rated - there were kids, babies, and 80 year old grandpas all enjoying it's overpriced joys. The Bláa lónið is a manmade spa about 15km south of Keflavik near a geothermal power station where the salts and silica in the hot spring water are supposed to be wonderfully curative, especially for psoriasis.
Both Andrea and Unnar thought that the 2300 ISK (about 25 USD) price was way too much for something that was essentially the same as a neighborhood swimming pool which costs a lot less. I thought it might have been worth it if I was planning to spend a couple of hours in it and had psoriasis, but not otherwise, so I skipped it. But the water really was very blue (thanks to the silica and salts).
The rest of the afternoon was spent happily wandering the Reykjanes peninsula with A and U (and little Björkvin of course). We started with the giant who lives in a cave overlooking the Keflavik Marina:
(that's her bed!)
Followed by the spot where the rift between the north american and european continental plates is only a few metres wide:
(the rift cuts through diagonally across Iceland, from the SW to the NE, so Iceland is geographically neither Europe nor N America, though it is European historically, and visually / architecturally / drinking-fountain-ly / shopping mall-aly North American (I have almost never seen a drinking fountain in Europe, and there were tons here)
Then we drove down to watch the waves crash into the shore (on a very windy day) at Reykjanesviti:
And stopped on the way back to see some icelandic horses and a geothermal power plant blowing it's nose (they release high pressure steam from newly drilled bore holes to remove all the rocks/dirts until they get pure/nearly pure steam):
(Icelandic horses are much valued internationally because they're super hardy, docile, intelligent, and have a fifth gait unlike other horses that have only four, called the flying pace which, done well, can apparently feel like flying along the ground because it isn't as bumpy as a gallop)
The 'american' feeling was complete when we ordered Pizza from a takeaway on the former US military base where A and U live now!
ps. Chris' excellent game flitta was a big hit on Sunday morning. I was telling Andrea and Unnar about it in the morning and by the evening, Unnar had the highest score (and when I checked just now, he'd beaten that again, and someone called Jarmi is running him close - am guessing he's one of Unnar's friends).
Kumin in Keflavik
The neighbours might have been wondering what the smell of frying cumin was doing at 56N-3E.
Landed in Keflavik airport yesterday and was trying to figure out how to use my phone (it was seeing all the networks but unable to connect to any) when I saw Unnar standing at the arrivals gate with my name on a sign. Andrea and Unnar are a wonderful Couchsurfing couple who live on the former american base in Keflavik. It was very interesting walking into a flat that was ENORMOUS. And, after two years of living in Edinburgh, I could instantly tell that I was in an american bathroom because of the size/layout!
Andrea's mom and partner had come for dinner and I offered to cook Indian food for everyone, so we had Chhole (chickpeas in a tomato/onion gravy) and Aloo Gobhi (potatos and cauliflowers, with Paanch Phoran - a Bengali spice mix with 5 things in it - aniseed, cumin, onion seeds, fenugreek, and mustard seeds. I think I overdid the tomatoes and the Paanch Phoran, but everyone seemed to enjoy it anyway (or they were too polite to say otherwise).
The flight from London Stansted to Keflavik on Iceland Express was super comfortable. The MD90 (I don´t think I've ever flown a non Boeing, non Airbus jet before) was practically empty and I stretched out on a set of three seats and took a much needed nap after having gotten up at 430am to catch the 7am flight from Edinburgh to Stansted.
Stansted airport had it's own share of adventure. The place is larger than I thought - but way more organized than Heartbreak Heathrow (as my mom likes to call it)- but it still had a design flaw: I had 4 hrs to kill, so I decided to take the transit shuttle (driverless two carriage fast train) to the other concourses just to see what it was like and because I like riding on anything that goes on tracks! Unfortunately, once you get to another building, you can't come back on the transit shuttle! (something about being designed to only bring international arrivals back, on the other side of passport control). So there I was, stuck at gate 30, with not a single airport official in sight. There was one other guy, who hadn't gotten off at the right stop so he was stuck there too. But unlike me, he had a flight to catch in 20 minutes. He finally got through to someone on the intercom and they said they would send a car (!) to pick us up. We were escorted (through a swipe card door I hadn't even noticed earlier) out on to the tarmac, to a waiting car, and went tearing across the airport to his gate so he could make it on time. I asked if he would be dropped right to his plane and the driver said "Can't do that, or else everyone would start deliberately getting 'lost'" :-). He said he had to pick up about 60-70 such stranded passengers every day (so clearly they need better signs saying "DO NOT GO THIS WAY IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO"). Some would be parents taking their kids on a ride in the train (same as me, except, I didn't have a parent to blame ;-)), others because they though their check-in serial number was their gate number, and still others because they thought they could get to gate 40 by walking from the stop labelled "Gates 30-39".
Anyway, the first afternoon in Keflavik was very relaxing and I had great fun playing with Björgvin who is 10 months old and is one of the happiest babies I have ever seen. Learnt lots about Icelandic history, culture and politics. Also saw the Icelandic custom of letting babies take their daytime naps outside in the open (under a covered porch, i.e. not in the direct rain) no matter how wet, windy, snowy, or cold it is), all bundled up in their prams!
ps. For those of you who are wondering - The 'rollu' in the blog URL was what my nani (mom's mom) would call anyone in the family who had the travel bug (literally 'wheels under their feet') - an honor she bestowed on my dad as well. This first post is in memory of both of them - and they would have both approved of couchsurfing - Nani was the ultimate couchsurfing host (her house in Calcutta was practically a dharamshala - so many random people, friends of friends, etc would stay there) and Baba was a great couchsurfer - having spent nights with everyone from tribals in Nagaland, to social activists in Ladakh. Oh, and funnily enough, the first time my dad met her (i.e., his future mother in law), it was as a couchsurfer! He needed a place to stay at the last minute in Kolkata for a work trip and his colleague at work said "Why don´t you go stay with my aunt in Kolkata" :-)
UPDATE: Spelling changed from Björkvin to Björgvin. Thanks Andrea!
Landed in Keflavik airport yesterday and was trying to figure out how to use my phone (it was seeing all the networks but unable to connect to any) when I saw Unnar standing at the arrivals gate with my name on a sign. Andrea and Unnar are a wonderful Couchsurfing couple who live on the former american base in Keflavik. It was very interesting walking into a flat that was ENORMOUS. And, after two years of living in Edinburgh, I could instantly tell that I was in an american bathroom because of the size/layout!
Andrea's mom and partner had come for dinner and I offered to cook Indian food for everyone, so we had Chhole (chickpeas in a tomato/onion gravy) and Aloo Gobhi (potatos and cauliflowers, with Paanch Phoran - a Bengali spice mix with 5 things in it - aniseed, cumin, onion seeds, fenugreek, and mustard seeds. I think I overdid the tomatoes and the Paanch Phoran, but everyone seemed to enjoy it anyway (or they were too polite to say otherwise).
 |
| From 2008 Iceland |
The flight from London Stansted to Keflavik on Iceland Express was super comfortable. The MD90 (I don´t think I've ever flown a non Boeing, non Airbus jet before) was practically empty and I stretched out on a set of three seats and took a much needed nap after having gotten up at 430am to catch the 7am flight from Edinburgh to Stansted.
 |
| From 2008 Iceland |
 |
| From 2008 Iceland |
 |
| From 2008 Iceland |
Stansted airport had it's own share of adventure. The place is larger than I thought - but way more organized than Heartbreak Heathrow (as my mom likes to call it)- but it still had a design flaw: I had 4 hrs to kill, so I decided to take the transit shuttle (driverless two carriage fast train) to the other concourses just to see what it was like and because I like riding on anything that goes on tracks! Unfortunately, once you get to another building, you can't come back on the transit shuttle! (something about being designed to only bring international arrivals back, on the other side of passport control). So there I was, stuck at gate 30, with not a single airport official in sight. There was one other guy, who hadn't gotten off at the right stop so he was stuck there too. But unlike me, he had a flight to catch in 20 minutes. He finally got through to someone on the intercom and they said they would send a car (!) to pick us up. We were escorted (through a swipe card door I hadn't even noticed earlier) out on to the tarmac, to a waiting car, and went tearing across the airport to his gate so he could make it on time. I asked if he would be dropped right to his plane and the driver said "Can't do that, or else everyone would start deliberately getting 'lost'" :-). He said he had to pick up about 60-70 such stranded passengers every day (so clearly they need better signs saying "DO NOT GO THIS WAY IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO"). Some would be parents taking their kids on a ride in the train (same as me, except, I didn't have a parent to blame ;-)), others because they though their check-in serial number was their gate number, and still others because they thought they could get to gate 40 by walking from the stop labelled "Gates 30-39".
Anyway, the first afternoon in Keflavik was very relaxing and I had great fun playing with Björgvin who is 10 months old and is one of the happiest babies I have ever seen. Learnt lots about Icelandic history, culture and politics. Also saw the Icelandic custom of letting babies take their daytime naps outside in the open (under a covered porch, i.e. not in the direct rain) no matter how wet, windy, snowy, or cold it is), all bundled up in their prams!
ps. For those of you who are wondering - The 'rollu' in the blog URL was what my nani (mom's mom) would call anyone in the family who had the travel bug (literally 'wheels under their feet') - an honor she bestowed on my dad as well. This first post is in memory of both of them - and they would have both approved of couchsurfing - Nani was the ultimate couchsurfing host (her house in Calcutta was practically a dharamshala - so many random people, friends of friends, etc would stay there) and Baba was a great couchsurfer - having spent nights with everyone from tribals in Nagaland, to social activists in Ladakh. Oh, and funnily enough, the first time my dad met her (i.e., his future mother in law), it was as a couchsurfer! He needed a place to stay at the last minute in Kolkata for a work trip and his colleague at work said "Why don´t you go stay with my aunt in Kolkata" :-)
UPDATE: Spelling changed from Björkvin to Björgvin. Thanks Andrea!
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