December 30, 2019

Icelandic Winter Traditions

New Years eve, and the few days leading up to it, are very explosive, literally. Icelanders buy hundreds and hundreds of tons of fireworks and explode them downtown, in backyards, harbours, farms, you name it. Reykjavik is the only city in the world where I can actually hear midnight coming, as the fireworks get more and more intense around Hallgrimskirkja, the loudest climax is the moment when the New Year has arrived.

The Christmas Market in Hafnafjordur

With 26 days of Christmas, there are a lot of traditions that Icelandic people keep up to fill the dark winter season. There’s even a small Christmas Market ´Jólaþorpið´started in Hafnafjordur, and free ice skating in Ingolfstorg downtown for all the days in December. Then of course there are the famous, or infamous, Yule lads, the 13 Christmas elves who each have a special, mischievous role to play. There´s the hungry ones: Sausage Stealer, Skyr Gobbler, Pot Scraper, Bowl Licker, Meat Hook, who loves smoked lamb, and Stubby, who likes eating pan crusts.

There´s the creepy ones, Sheep harassing Sheep-Cote-Clod, Door Sniffer and the Window Peeper. Then there’s the annoying ones: the noisy Door Slammer, Gully Gawk who likes to jump out and scare people, and Candle Sneaker, who’s also hungry because they’re used to stealing candles made of animal fat and eating them.

ice skating in Ingolfstorg

These fine examples of Icelandic folklore are the sons of a large, ugly, child-eating troll named Gryla, and her black cat eats Children who don’t receive any new clothes for Christmas. The Yule lads are not all bad – they bring down a present to put in your shoe, one by one, for the 13 days leading up to Christmas, unless you misbehave – then you get a potato or a piece of coal. Then 13 days after Christmas, the Yule lads return back to Gryla in her mountain, and the last day of Christmas is Jan 6, but its only a few weeks to wait until Thorrablot, Icelands other, rather unappealing, winter tradition.

Thorrablot used to be a pagan festival, dedicated to pagan gods in the fourth month of winter, previously known as Thorri. It’s basically a midwinter party (end-Jan to mid Feb in the modern day calendar) dedicated to eating sour and fermented foods, the same ram testicles, sheep head, rotten shark, liver and blood sausages as the vikings ate before the modernisation or Christianisation of Iceland. Its also a drunken time, when farmers and fishermen and city folk alike gather in huge groups (a dinner for hundreds of people sometimes), organising with the next county or community to make sure they don’t hold the festival on the same night, so that everyone can go to more Thorrablots and drink enough beer and brennivin to wash all the sour food down and hangover away. Sounds like a blast, right?

midday in midwinter

My favourite Þorrablóts are happening around Feb 1st in the north of Iceland, be sure to check out Varmahlíð or Hunaver´s schedule, or just search Thorrablot in Facebook events to be sure to find the one closest to you. Or, if sour food isn´t for you, there´s always hottubs and the outdoor bathing culture we all love and need to get us through a long Icelandic winter.

January 6, 2018

The 26 days of Christmas

Christmas in Iceland is special for a lot of reasons, like the food, weird yule lads, short days and northern lights nights, but nothing beats Christmas in Iceland because we have 26 days of it.

Christmas starts 13 days before Christmas eve, when the first yule lad comes down from the mountains. After all 13 have come down, one by one per day, we celebrate Christmas on Christmas eve evening, usually around 6pm. We have smoked and boiled lamb with green beans and red cabbage, and open all our gifts that night, and Christmas day is spent at home with friends and family doing very little except eating the leftovers and cooking and baking more Christmas food.

Christmas Eve was spent eating smoked lamb with these two handsome men

The smelliest night of Christmas is arguably December 23rd, what we call Thorlaksmessa, when people boil pots of fermented stingray for hours without ever adding water, so the ever-increasing, pungent smell of ammonia quickly absorbs into your hair and clothes (and takes a couple of washes to get out).

The loudest day of Christmas is New Years Eve, which Icelanders more appropriately call Old Years night. Iceland is the only country in the world where you can actually hear the New Year arrive, since the intensity of fireworks climaxes at midnight like an out-of-tune percussion symphony. It’s also a pretty smelly night if there’s no wind, since all that smoke from a million kronur of explosives creates a fair bit of pollution.

The last of the fireworks

The hottest day of Christmas are the “brenna” or bonfires. On New Year’s Eve and the last day of Christmas, various neighborhoods around Reykjavík collect huge piles of inflammable junk – furniture, pallets, Christmas trees and even mattresses – and create fires as big as houses. It’s a way to clean out your closets, literally and figuratively, and burn away all the baggage from last year to start clean.

The last day of Christmas is the “Thirteenth” (þrettándinn), January 6 when the last of the 13 yule lads has returned back to the mountains. As I write this, Reykjavik has started to light up again, as everyone finishes the last of their fireworks. It’s only legal to fire fireworks during Christmas, so after midnight tonight you could technically be fined. The city will be even darker tomorrow since Christmas lights and decorations will also get put away. The sidewalks of Reykjavík have already started filling up with Christmas trees that won’t be needed to be cut down again til next year. The radio will stop playing Christmas music, and the harsh reality that the last day of Christmas does not mean the last day of winter will start to sink in. A couple of days ago, the street lights never shut off automatically because the cloudy skies and lack of snow meant the daylight never became bright enough to convince the sensors that it was day time.

the first Saturday ride of the year for these horses and horsepeople

For most, this is a time to buckle down the budget, face impossible new years resolutions, and start the year fresh and optimistic. We do have the assurance that days are getting longer, already for 2 weeks now, and we finally start to notice the difference. For the horse people in Reykjavik, its time to bring the riding horses into the stables and start training. For me, its a time to hole up and write a book, and book the cheapest one way ticket out of here until summer.

January 11, 2017

A New Year begins in Iceland

Me and winter aren’t the best of friends, and I usually like traveling the full 8 months of Icelandic winter, but if I’m going to take a break from traveling, the holidays are the best time of year to take a break at home.

Iceland has a very special Christmas season; it actually lasts for 13 days (arguably 26 if you count the days all the yule lads come to town and leave presents in your shoe), so the last day of Christmas, also called ‘the Thirteenth,’ happens after New Years.

New Years Eve in Iceland is also special; its one of the few cities in the world you can actually hear midnight happen. Millions of kronurs of fireworks are exploded and showered over Reykjavik between 11:30 and 12:15, and the skies are full of lights, colours and smoke. It’s a little like bombs over Baghdad, plus the possibility of Northern Lights in the background – try to find that somewhere else in the world.

downtown Reykjavik on Christmas eve

The weather has been very cooperative. Over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, there was the most festive sprinkle of fluffy snow flakes falling quietly down over an already white winter wonderland. Then there were some storms, rains, and plus 7°c weather that iced it up and washed it all way. But for New Years, everything went cold and crispy again, no snow or rain fall, enough snow on the ground to brighten the night, and the clear, still skies welcomed the colourful explosions that actually last the whole night, with a deafening climax around midnight.

New Years resolution #1: go for more walks

Then everyone makes their New Years Resolutions; the gyms get totally overcrowded the first week of January. People exchange unwanted Christmas presents and go bonkers shopping the sales and old year clearances. And ‘the Thirteenth’ happens, on January 6th, which is the last day you can legally set off fireworks, so the last day of Christmas is also sent booming into the sky, with screams and screeches and flashes of lights.

Dad at his birthday Gala Dinner

January 7th was my fathers 65th birthday. We celebrated in black tie dress-code of course – he was finally home after 5 weeks in the hospital and officially retired, so now the old man’s really an old man. He’s recovering from kidney failure, which means hes attached to a dialysis machine every night, but free to play all day and evening. We started the date with a Baejarinns Beztu hotdog, then attended a Viennese Concert by the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra, and capped the night off at the Icelandic Chef Association Gala dinner at Harpa. We were seated one table away from the president, and rubbed shoulders with all sorts of important and/or wealthy guests, but explained to everyone he was a retired teacher and I was an unemployed tour guide and didn’t seem to feel excluded.

I’ll miss this sight!

Now it’s time to hit the road again. Christmas is over, New Years and birthday celebrations are behind us, and we can no longer burn our money in the form of fire works, so its time to go spend it on the road. First stop is Barcelona; why? Because I found a one way ticket for a direct flight (4hrs15mins!) for 80 euros and the days there are twice as long and twice as bright. Of course the weather is better than in Iceland, though not great at this time of year according to Spaniards, but having the sun shine on the top of my head and actually feel the heat of its rays is sometimes enough. Sunshine, here I come.

January 3, 2016

Home for the Holidays

There’s no place like home, especially for the holidays, and even more so when you’ve got two places to call home. It sure was festive to be in the Holy land in the days leading up to Christmas, but arriving in Reykjavik on December 23rd to a white winter wonderland and -10°c couldn´t have felt better. The days were super short but the nights were lit up with Christmas lights, northern lights and starry skies. I stuffed my belly with traditional Icelandic Christmas food – my favourites being delicious smoked and boiled lamb leg and home-baked flat bread (´laufabrauð´ or leaf bread – try it!). Some other delicacies I avoided, like rotten sting ray (stay away from ´skata´), but of course i stuffed my face with Icelandic hot dogs, appelsin og malt (a mix of non-alcoholic malt and orange soda) and regular flatbread that´s best for breakfast with sliced lamb.

the brightest part of the day in Dad´s valley

I flew to Seattle on Boxing day, where me and my best friend Mike celebrated by finishing half a dozen bottles of assorted whiskies in 2 nights. Then it was up to Vancouver to have a sister day and celebrating my older sister not getting married on December 29th (yes, it was a momentous occasion, the guy is a creep and doesn´t deserve even the small toe of Kristjana´s left foot). Grandma and mom have turned into very similar grumpy old women, but I guess it happens to most mothers when their kids don´t stick around to keep them young and cool or in the loop.

a friends dog at his cabin

But anyway, this isn´t a food blog and my mouths watering, but I´ll emphasize again how refreshing, clean, crisp and amazing it was to have a really cold, wintery christmas, making the inside of any home or shop (and outdoor hottubs and public swimming pools too) feel ultra cozy and the festive feeling of evening last almost the whole day. I celebrated with Dad and his neighbour, where we mostly just exchanged chocolates as gifts, but I was thrilled to find some Christmas cards addressed to me in the mail box and small gifts from friends come popping up when they made appearances.

NYE crew keeping it cozy in Whistler

New Year´s was a real highlight, a reunion of UBC classmates in even snowier, cozier, whiter Whistler where we house partied like we were still freshmen. We lit firecrackers inside and outside of my friends cabin and drank way too many bad shots of bad tequila and gentleman´s jack, which makes a gentleman out of noone. My hangover lasted 2 days, which is a sign you´re getting old, but 3 days later I´m on a plane to the Caribbean to heal all wounds and work on my tan. A week of temperatures below zero is about all I can handle anyway.

December 30, 2013

Christmas in Cape Verde

sunset on Sao Vicente

It was a kind of deja-vu, leaving Senegal for Cape Verde, since last year for Christmas I had moved from the non-festive towns of Morocco for Portugal. This year, I celebrated Christmas in the portugese-speaking islands of Cabo Verde, leaving the islamic chaos of Dakar on a too-cheap-to-miss flight.

the sleepy, volcanic town of Calhau

We started in Sao Vicente, where the cultural capital city of Cape Verde, Mindelo, was the perfect place to take in the holiday festivities. People flooded the streets, and even the nights were warm enough to wear pink and white dresses to mingle in the central square, eat out, and evesdrop on a live concert happening at the Porto Grande hotel.

the deserted streets of Calhau

On Christmas eve, we explored the other side of Sao Vicente, where the supposedly excellent beach town of Calhau was more like an empty ghost town. In our 3 hours there, we only saw 3 cars pass, 2 of which were buses, and 5 other people: a lady on her balcony, a couple men with a young girl in their holiday home, and 2 tourists that were also searching for some charm in the town. Nothing was open, not even the windows on the blocked up houses, no cars in the driveway, or signs of life in the streets. We finally ran into 2 men on the road out of town, casually drinking beers as they strolled, who pointed us into the direction of a hotel that may be open. It turned out to be an oasis of life, with atleast 5 other people sitting around the french-owned courtyard and tapping onto the free wifi.

Christmas day gift exchange

christmas day greetings from Santa Clause’s mom

We hitchhiked out of the town, and made a lot of village stops on the way, since we had accidentally been picked up by the local Santa clause delivering presents to the neighbours. He was paid in beers and we paid him in chocolate, and we drove past his mother for the saddest wave hello.

the hilltop villages of Ribeira Grande, Santo Antao

the colonial town of Ribeira Grande

We took a ferry from Sao Vicento to Santo Antao, which was such an unbelievably beautiful island I dont think its even worth trying to describe. They say pictures paint a thousand words, but no picture can really do justice for this island, or any of the Cape Verde islands for that matter. They were all very different, with a different atmosphere and dramatically different environments. Santo Antao was the most impressive because of the huge, steep, green moutains that we had to weave through, and the road always seemed to be laid on the peaks of each montain, so we floated around in the clouds looking down at these little sea-side, cliff-hanging villages like ant-towns, and wondered how the road ever got us up so high or how it would ever lead us back down alive.

Roadtrip Santiago, from Tarrafal to Praia

The last island we visited was Santiago, home of the country’s capital and international airport. We were warned that Praia was boring and dangerous, but, quite frankly I liked it. We stumbled upon some art cafe that I cant remember the name of, but the owner was the wife of the late Vadú, a famous Cape Verdean singer, who died in a car accident in Santo Antao. She was the first and only local to speak highly of Cape Verde, but we had already made plans to continue north to Tarrafal. Its a small, cobble-stoned street with a perfectly placed central square, a small beach with everything you need on it, and I made some very good new friends there. On the beach I met 2 boys with their 2 dogs, and one dog liked me slightly more than anyone else, and I showed a little favouritism to the 13 year old boy who inherited my Freewaters sandals. At the square later that night, I befriended a sobbing 9 year old girl, who´s world turned right side up after we bought her a coke, gave her my hair elastic, and let her braid 4 plaits in my hair. I hope she never cries again.

December 25, 2012

The Holy Land at Christmas

Even if you’re not religious, everyone has heard of the Holy Land, including especially Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Everyone also knows about the conflict between Israel and Palestine, although one or the other may not be recognized by some, and it seems impossible to have an opinion on the matter without being considered anti-Semitic, anti-Muslim, pro-Israel or pro-Palestine. The most confusing thing is to have both Israeli and Arabic friends, despite what religion they practice or if they even identify as Jewish or Muslim, since the Holy Land is also filled with Christians and atheists. Then there are also Arabic Jews, like the Yemeni’s who have a huge presence in Israel, and the Christians are divided between Orthodox, Protestant, and Catholics from all over Europe, North America and the Middle East. The land is considered holy by all these groups, but slight differences in beliefs and customs still make some hate eachother with a vengeance I’d never thought religious groups could tolerate.

the Western Wall

Despite the tensions and daily threat of terrorism, I still felt uneasy with the extreme Israeli security. I was questioned and searched both on my way in and out of Israel with utmost scrutiny, as if I had already been targeted as guilty of something dangerous but neither of us knew what. Traveling by public bus and walking around the pedestrian streets, I crossed paths with visibly armed civilians and 18 year old female soldiers carrying M16’s, yet Palestinians were stopped, searched, and detained if they even had so much as a kitchen knife on their person. I was never sure if people could see I was a tourist, or if they suspected I’d be Israeli or Palestinian, but so much artillery out in the open never made me feel safer. The Israeli police and soldiers, who are everywhere, especially in Palestine, would sometimes have their guns pointed on my from barricaded roof tops where I saw nothing but deep down the barrel of a rifle. It was always unclear who was protecting or who was suspecting.

the fortress of the Tower of David at night

Jerusalem is primarily in Israel, although East Jerusalem has a Palestinian town that you can only enter through a checkpoint. A part of touristy old Jerusalem, the Dome of the Rock, is a shrine that Muslims control, but still you have to enter through an Israeli check point and I couldn’t enter because it was the wrong time of day. I could visit the 19m high West Wall, the only part of the Temple Mount complex left standing and thus considered the most holy place in Judaism.

empty Shuhada street

I was also allowed to visit the Tomb of the Patriarchs in Bethlehem, the burial place of Abraham who both the Jews and Muslims consider a fore-father. The building around it is split in half between a Mosque and a Synagogue, and both entrances are controlled by Israeli’s, similar to the whole city of Hebron which the tomb is located. Its a city of 11,000 Arabs surrounding a fortified settlement of 500 jews protected by 1,600 Israeli soldiers. Still the Israeli’s control where the Palestinians can walk, open shops, worship, or run businesses, and the old town of Hebron and Shuhada street, once bustling market places, are ghost towns today.

a checkpoint in Hebron

Only in Tel Aviv was the city free of checkpoints, but instead there were random searches by security guards to enter any public spaces like bus stations or markets. Besides that, the city felt like a bustling neighbourhood in Manhattan, or a Mediterranean sea-side town filled with artsy cafes and high-fashion shops. It was amazing to me it was the same country as Jerusalem, a city plagued with constant terrorist attacks and an uneasy feeling of racism and religious strife. It was even more hard to believe that Palestine doesn’t exist to many, in a place where there were clear boundaries and lines drawn between them and the others, even as extreme as an 8m wall being built around the West Bank. Its not even possible to enter the Gaza strip, making it seem more of an intentional prison than a part of Israel. But who am I to judge, when much of the world still doesn’t understand, so I certainly couldn’t wrap my head around any of it, although something about it all seems very very wrong.

January 9, 2012

Holiday Feasting and Dysfunctional Families

My parents had 3 daughters together, all of us born in Iceland, but raised most of our lives by our mother in Canada. Though we kept many of our Icelandic traditions and some Icelandic culture, we lost the language and became more Canadian. My mother is Guyanese, and imparted much of her British Guyanese influence onto us as well, so we grew up in quite the international, multi-cultural home. She dated an Italian, a Brit, most recently a Chinese guy, and married and divorced an Indian Guyanese guy during the time we lived in Canada. But we never really had a man around the house, since my grandmother helped raise us and we were barely allowed to keep male company without being chastised.

I went through a tomboy phase in my teenage hood, had only male friends, dreamed of having a brother, and wished I had a father. When I graduated university, I decided to move back to Iceland and be with my dad back home. Since then, I had the dilemma every year to decide whether I should spend the holiday season in Canada or Iceland, and always hoped the family could have just one more Christmas together.

my family feast on Christmas Eve

This Christmas and New Years was the first I spent in Iceland together with my entire family since 1992. My mom, dad, sisters and I had Christmas together in Canada in 1994, but it didnt turn out so great since my parents had just recently divorced and my mom had emigrated us all to Canada without telling my dad. I guess time does heal all, so 17 years later, they talked about things other than custody or money, and us sisters all grown up appreciated having both our parents in the same room to contribute to another happy family memory.

It was quite the dysfunctional occasion though. My parents get a long okay when we’re around, but they couldn’t be left alone since my dad has no patience for my mom and my mom didn’t think it was appropriate to stay at his house. They both know they’re excellent cooks and want to parent us, but now we’re all grown up and scolded them more than they scolded us. My youngest sister is engaged to be married and somehow acts like she can’t wait to start her own (more normal) family. My eldest sister wanted everything to go smoothly but is an unspoken, passive aggressivist, and I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to keep everyone busy and entertained… which wasn´t easy with record snow falls keeping us on the verge of getting stuck every time we had to go anywhere or park the car. But we only had a week and couldn´t let weather get in the way of or plans, so I was still the 24/7 driver, tourist guide, daily planner and phone secretary. However, I never minded since I was royally awarded with food feasts centered around family time every day they were here.

the first seconds of 2012

My mom has a sister in Iceland who married an Icelandic man and started a family here. My mom stayed with her and we visited our Aunty and cousins often for breakfasts, lunches and dinners prepared large enough for an entire army. We ate traditional smoked lamb with fixings, grilled leg of lamb with Icelandic mushroom gravy, lamb saddle and sheep head. On Christmas night we had lamb curry and roti, and Christmas morning we had Pepperpot, a delicious Guyanese dish made of oxtail and lamb

adding oxtail to the pepperpot

neck that takes days to cook. My friend Þráinn, one of the top chefs in Europe, came over and cooked some fine-dining langoustine for us one night. We tried every Christmas beer brewed in Iceland, and stuffed our bellies full of cookies and chocolate after every meal.

We visited our half brother, our old neighbours, and met many of my friends, including 3 hunters who fed us reindeer steak and reindeer carpaccio. We made it through the days with coffee and tea, leftover dinners, and hot dogs from hot dog stands. We rang in the new year with sparkling wine and almost got blown up by a wayward firecracker my cousin Svanur lit up too close to the balcony. We tried to make it to Vestmann Islands to visit our relatives from Dad´s side, but the weather wouldn´t allow it, or else we would have gotten to try some puffin and dried sea weed.

After a week of stuffing our faces and functioning like a family unit once again, we all had a great time secured by hundreds of photos to keep every moment of the holiday memorable. I like watching Modern Family to remind myself we´re just one of many dysfunctional families, with an ever-evolving definition of family unit. I appeciate how unique my family is – growing up apart, getting divorced, getting engaged, living in different countries – and learnt that it doesn´t affect our family ties, since these are just the things that make us normal. I guess all families have some dirt under the carpet, with some weird element going on, so we’d be abnormal if we weren’t a little dysfunctional.

January 7, 2011

Christmas in Iceland

Christmas in Iceland is quite possibly the best place in the world to celebrate the holidays. Why? Because Icelandic Christmases last 26 days. Only today has christmas officially ended, since January 6th is the 13th day of christmas. Icelanders get a lot of holiday time and everything just shuts down on the days surrounding Christmas and New years, and everyone has somewhere to be surrounded by people they love and way too much food. Christmas food in Iceland is to die for: the first 3 days I was back home I ate 4 meals of hangikjöt og uppstúf (smoked lamb and potatoes in white sauce), my favourite. It goes well with pickled red cabbage and canned green beans, and laufabrauð (unlevened bread) goes good with anything, anytime. I also ate alot of foods that I can´t get anywhere else, namely flatkökur (flat bread), skyr (a yogurt like thing), cheap and fresh smoked salmon, sheep heads, and of course the best pylsur (hotdogs) in the world. Im salivating just writing about this stuff.

Stakkholt, my family's summerhouse in the countryside

Christmas is celebrated with family on Christmas eve, with a little dressing up, a fancy dinner, and gift exchange. I spent the evening with my dad, and for dessert we smoked hookah while listening to Van Morrison and Santana. After family time, most of town fills up every church for midnight mass; I went to Frikirkjan and watched Iceland’s lead pop singer, gay Pall Oskar, sing hymns in a sparkle suit jacket. Christmas is also fun because all your friends or family that live abroad come home for the holidays, so you get a chance to see people that you can’t always see. I took the chance to catch up with friends I hadn’t seen in a while by going to our summer cottage in the country side for a night – the ideal definition of a cozy night in. We spent some time outside too, trying to walk to a wild hot spring nearby that you can bathe in, but after barely making it accross the muddiest field and destroying all our shoes, only 2 of us actually made it across the tiny stepping stones to claim victory in the 40°C hotpot.

midnight from the top of Hotel Saga, overlooking the main building of the University of Iceland

The most impressive night during Christmas time in Iceland is undesputedly New Year’s Eve. As soon as it gets dark on the last day of the year, fire works start to fire off, slowly building up to the bombs-over-Baghdad chaos that happens when the clock strikes twelve. During the minutes before and after midnight, the city is lit up with the most beautiful array of fireworks, all colours and types, 360° around you. They say there’s a serious recession going on, but even with the recent spike in inflation, Icelanders still manage to blow up their money with something like 600 tonnes of fireworks. Atleast we’re not cheap when it comes to partying like its the New year. People stumble home the next day when the sun comes up, which isnt until 10 or 11 am.

However, with the end of Christmas season comes some sad realities. I was shopping today in the mall and they were taking down all the bright and shiny things since January doesnt get the glitz and glamour like Christmas does. Even though the days have started to get longer since the winter solstice, things just seem darker as all the houses take down their christmas lights and all the missing christmas decorations make things seem not as bright. It also feels colder since all the indoor time spent with family, dinners and parties starts to wind down. Its perhaps a little lonelier, with people no longer on holiday, returning back to school or work, and everything is open again as the hussle and bussle of Reykjavik life starts again. Yet somehow I love January since it makes you appreciate Iceland so much more in June, and the chance to have a comfy night in with a winter storm raging outside is actually one of the most coziest feelings I know. The chance to see some northern lights and wear your heaviest parka also make winter fun, and battling the incredible winds that sometimes blow me right over makes me feel tough and nordic 🙂

December 29, 2009

Traveling during Christmas Time

winter hindrances at the airport

The nature of the holiday season always gives me an obsessive cumpolsive urge to travel, since its the time of year when everyone has time off and either goes home or to some sunny destination for Christmas time. I, of course, was resisting the other voice in my head, which said “no, dont travel now, there is so much air traffic, airports are so busy, and bad weather is all over the northern hemisphere that traveling right now would be stupid.” However, the choice was much simpler than that for me, since I am completely broke and have no way of getting anywhere right now, so I stayed put in Vancouver. This has worked out great, since all my friends who have left have vacated their place to me, asking me to house-sit, feed plants or walk dogs and having access to 3 or 4 different refuges has been kind of special. However, I am so overcome by jealousy of everyone elses travels that I’ve spent alot of time traveling through other people’s pictures, reading blogs, and planning my own future travels.

I have been hearing so many horror stories about people’s traveling times over the last few days. Average delay times in JFK New York and Newark airports were reported at above 3 hours, storms all over the east coast have grounded Chicago and Boston bound planes, and worst of all, an attempted Christmas day terrorist attack from a Delta flight east-coast bound from Amsterdam could have ended fatally for hundreds, but miraculously, passengers extinguished the chemical bomb before it detonated.

Traveling any other time of the year somehow seems more efficient and safe, not only for the above reasons but also because of airfares; I could not make it back to Iceland for the holidays since flights were out of my affordability reach, over 110.000kr, about 600 Euros, when Ive paid only 56.000kr for the same flight other times of the year. A friend of mine paid $2,700 US to go from San Francisco to Cape town (its usually around $1500), and others have had to take 3 flight connections just to get from coast to coast when one, 5 hr flight usually suffices.

Going from Iceland to Canada or vice versa always makes me lose a day in transit, and the 8 hr jet lag takes a couple more to recover, so I’m generally too confused to know what day is actually christmas.It has also been nice to not have to do anything in preparation for Christmas; no packing, shopping, wrapping gifts; I have really just been able to enjoy the free time and stay put for once. Despite all these negative reprecussions of travelling, avoiding peak season is a good enough recipe for efficient travel and successfully enjoying the holidays. I can day dream about so many places I want to go and journeys I want to take, but it has been extremeley satisfying to not travel this christmas season. But, don’t get me wrong, I still look very much forward to my next travel experience, beginning Jan 11th, just after this Christmas hustle and bustle finally slows down.