The Icelandic Phallological Museum

This afternoon I met with Andrea and Maarit with the intention of going whale watching. However, we decided that the weather was too bad and we should do something else instead. It seemed sensible to go somewhere inside so I suggested a place I've secretly wanted to go since the minute I got here and saw that it was opposite my hostel: The Penis Museum. I was surprised that they both seemed as interested as I was and we made the decision to go in about ten seconds flat. At this point I will warn you that the following post contains a lot of pictures of penises...

The museum contains the world's biggest collection of penises and related items and contains specimens from all kinds of animals: from guinea pig to reindeer to whale (so I guess in a way, we did end up going whale watching)!

A particularly, um, impressive specimen came from an elephant.

No, it's not its trunk.

Of course being in Iceland, the creatures also included elves, trolls and ghosts! How they obtained these I will never know, but I'm sure they're real...!

Well elves are invisible...

... and trolls do turn to stone...

... and ghosts are white!

Of course it's not just animals included in the museum. There is a human specimen too, and more interestingly several people have promised to donate their penises for many different reasons. One man wants to donate his because he believes it will be a perfect specimen as it's never been used. Another man had jokingly told a friend he would donate his and after his friend died he felt he should follow through with the promise. Of course, these men want to donate once they are dead and no longer need it. But not one man! Here is an extract of his letter, and one of my favourite things I've ever read in a museum (just to explain, he calls his penis 'Elmo'):

It is my intention to submit to surgery as soon as possible, while I am still very much alive and in healthy condition, so that Elmo The Penis will be surgically harvested from my body along with both testicles together with their chords to my abdominal wall; plus Elmo's entire scrotum; plus as much red-headed pubic scalp as we can persuade a competent surgeon to remove from me.

Mental. The last penis-based exhibit I will share with you is a set of silver casts of the 'members' of the members of the Icelandic silver medal-winning Handball team!

I can't help but feel a little sorry for the one in the front centre.

Maybe this hasn't been my most mature post so far, but I would challenge anyone to go into the Phallological Museum and not have a bit of a giggle!

Back to Reykjavik (and Culture Night)

I have emerged from the bubble that is Hotel Nupur! Yesterday we had an eight hour bus journey back to Reykjavik and it feels so strange to be back in civilisation. I would also say it's so strange to be away from all the people I met on the language course but I've already bumped into half of them walking round Reykjavik! I gave up blogging the last week because the internet was so bad so I'll write a little about my last week in the Westfjords and my first night back in Reykjavik.

On Wednesday we went on a trip to a nearby village to watch the Saga of Gisli performed as a one man play. The show was performed in a village hall by a man who wore a stripper-style break away suit (to reveal a viking outfit, thank god) and used puppets and wooden toys to act out the story. It was a bizarre experience and if I'm honest it just looked a bit like the actor was having a mental breakdown on stage. After the show we had to complete an orienteering task - except that a group of us were never given anything to do so we wandered aimlessly in the rain for an hour instead. It wasn't my best afternoon so far!

On Friday we had our final exam. The writing part went well for me but I fell to pieces in the speaking part. In the evening we had our final dinner and ceremony and we were all called to the front one by one to collect our results. I was pretty shocked to find out I finished the course with a mark of 80%! The final night was a lot of fun and a great way to say goodbye to everyone. 

It means something a bit rude, sorry.

One final thing about Nupur: it's been a tradition for the boarding school to take photos of the students and frame them since the school was founded, like this:

The owners of the hotel have decided to carry on this tradition, so here is the class of 2013!

We got back to Reykjavik yesterday evening and all went off to our various hostels/houses. Yesterday was Culture Night in Reykjavik (a mix of music, food, exhibitions, etc all over the city) and although that made it an exciting time to come back, it also meant the city was manic. I got to the hostel I'd stayed in before and wasn't that happy to be put in a much worse dorm that the one I'd been in previously: it's really messy, there were a couple in the bed next to me who'd clearly just... you know, and there's nowhere for me to straighten my hair (I realise how spoilt that last bit sounds)! I considered upgrading but after checking my bank balance today I don't think that's an option.

Anyway, I had a walk round the city and heard all kinds of strange music along the main street. I met some people from the language course and we watched a concert in the city centre, then had a walk around Harpa (the concert hall) and finally watched the fireworks at the harbour. There was something very special about standing by the sea watching spectacular fireworks flying over the ships and Harpa.

It was a fantastic 'welcome back' from Reykjavik and, although I will miss being in the Westfjords, I'm so happy to be back here!

Hiking Mount Kaldbakur

I haven’t hiked up a mountain since... I don’t know, whenever my dad last made me! So I knew that hiking up Mount Kaldbakur last Saturday was going to be a challenge. It’s the highest mountain in the Westfjords at 998 metres (let’s round that up to 1,000) and quite a struggle to climb. Unfortunately it was very misty so we couldn’t get a good view but this definitely added to the experience! I felt quite detached from the real world being so high up on the mountain shrouded in fog.

The climb started with a scramble across a stream and a steep walk along a road, but that was only to get to the foot of the mountain. Once we were there we had to walk along a ridge which was quite scary. I was very glad that the mist blocked my view below so I didn’t know how far it was possible to fall.

Then we had a steep climb over lots of mud and rocks to get to the top. It was tough but very rewarding. It took a group of seventeen of us three hours to get to the top but we didn’t stay up there for too long: it was very cold and wouldn’t stop raining.

I was surprised that my fitness levels hadn’t declined too much in the last few weeks despite doing very little exercise and eating huge amounts of Icelandic skyr (like very thick yoghurt but quite healthy) and chocolate covered liquorice (not at all healthy). I managed to stay near the front of the group the whole way up but dropped further back on the way down; my fitness is better than my coordination and I was a bit scared that I would fall down the very steep mountain!

When we got back to Nupur we only had a couple of hours to get ready to go to a party in Ísafjörður. We had a great night but I did not have the energy to stay up until 7am this time! 

Me, Enya and Maarit.

Also, I was not quite as lucky as last week and got an incredible hangover. I think the last fortnight had caught up with me, and mixed with being tired out from the mountain and drinking just a bit too much wine, I’m ashamed to say I slept until 7.30pm. I only fully woke up when Maarit and Enya bought me a plate of food - I’ve made some very good friends here!

More Ghosts and Abandoned Farmhouses

In my last post I mentioned that we were going to be told a ghost story last Friday night. It turns out the story was quite predictable, albeit very sad, for an old boarding school. In the 1930s a boy called Numi failed his exams and, knowing that he would be severely beaten by his father, he decided his only option was to hang himself in his bedroom. Since then there have been multiple ‘sightings’ of Numi and his room has been kept locked for the last twenty years. Several years ago the owner of the hotel was staying here by himself for the whole winter and as he walked down the corridor he saw Numi in one of the bedrooms: it sounds like something from The Shining!

We were also told another story, not involving ghosts, about an old abandoned farmhouse a few kilometres from here. The farmhouse was bought by an old couple from Reykjavik who decided to spend their retirement in the Westfjords. However, the house was very difficult to get to by road and they struck a deal with a local politician that a concrete bridge would be built for them if they promised to live there for the next twenty years. Sadly, the old man briefly left retirement the next year to work on a ship but the ship came into difficulties and everyone on board drowned. The old woman had to keep her promise and lived there for the next nineteen years until she was able to leave and was sent to a psychiatrist in Reykjavik.

Whilst in Reykjavik she went to the Hallgrimskirkja (the huge church) every day and she collected money from people riding in the elevator to the top. She did this for five or six years until she died and with the money she collected the building of the church could finally be completed in 1986. (Hopefully I’ve got the details of this story right!)

A few days before we heard this story a group of us went and visited the house.

As you can see, the woman’s things are still there. The house has fallen into disrepair and I was a bit too scared to go upstairs as it looked like things had started to fall through the ceiling!

The house was featured in a short film The Last Farm. It’s a very sad film but very moving and worth watching.

Elves, fairies, trolls and ghosts.

The majority of Icelanders believe in Huldufólk (hidden people) and since coming here two weeks ago I’ve had the chance to learn a bit about these supernatural beliefs. I’m afraid I could never be persuaded to believe in the supernatural, but in this fairy-tale landscape even I can see why people might think they’re sharing their habitat with something mythical.

Probably the most talked about creature is the elves. But these aren’t all cute Santa’s-little-helper-type elves; there are also scary elves who aim to revenge those who have harmed them. I’ve been told that before a new road can be built, the area must first be checked for elf habitats so they are not disturbed. Our teacher also told us about a friend of hers in Ísafjörður who built a house around what was believed to be an old elf stone; the stone could not be destroyed and has stayed in the basement. The residents of the house must light a candle by the stone twice a year (Midsummer’s Night and New Year’s Eve) to keep the elf happy. Not only do they do this twice a year, but it’s written in the house’s contract that when it’s sold the new owners must continue to do the same!

Icelandic people often leave little houses in the countryside or their gardens for the elves and fairies to live in.

Spot the fairy house.

Trolls are also something to be afraid of, but only in the night; they turn into stone when they see daylight. Apparently they live in the mountains and like to steal women and children so I better be careful round here.

I found a troll in Reykjavik.

Last of all, ghosts. Ghosts come in many different forms in Icelandic folklore: babies who come back to haunt their mothers who killed them, drowned sailors who try to lead other ships to disaster, and horses whose hooves point the wrong way and who want to drag you into lakes. And apparently there is a ghost who lives here at Nupur. Tonight (at midnight of course) the owner of the hotel is going to tell us about him. I just hope he’s not too angry that we took over his home for our party last weekend! 

The Mid-Course Crisis

So far my blog has been entirely positive, and with good reason: these have been two of the most exciting/busy/crazy weeks of my life! I apologise for the first bit of negativity but there will inevitably be low points on a year abroad.

Yesterday was the half way point of our stay here at Nupur and I realised I was starting to feel a bit lost. The excitement of the first week has worn off but the end of our time here is not yet in sight and some of us are having what we’ve called a ‘mid-course crisis’. We have a set routine revolving around studying, eating and sleeping and the Icelandic classes are getting seriously difficult (maybe more on that later if you want death by word-endings). But one of the hardest things is the lack of privacy and time to ourselves. 

I don’t want to sound ungrateful because I’ve met lots of really great people here and I love spending time with them. Also, I really enjoy sharing my room with Hanna but we’ll both admit that our box room is really not big enough for two people! The main communal spaces are big and social but on our corridor we share a tiny kitchen between 24 people, and 12 girls share one toilet and shower; it’s always a battle to get ready in the morning!

So yesterday I felt a bit too claustrophobic and I made my first phone call to my parents. By that point I was feeling pretty frustrated, especially after some connection issues, but it’s amazing what a difference a twenty minute phone call makes!

I instantly felt much happier and had a good evening walking and cooking with Maarit and Enya. I felt even better this morning after eight hour’s sleep (for the first time in weeks) and the amazing feeling of the Icelandic grammar finally starting to click into place.

It was inevitable that there would be difficult times living in such an intense environment, especially when I can sense that many others are feeling the same way too, but I’m glad I’ve had one bad day so I can move on and enjoy the rest of my time here. That one day of feeling slightly negative pales into insignificance compared to the other ten brilliant days.

I was going to add a picture of the view from my window, something which will always cheers me up, but unfortunately the internet is far too bad (just to add to the frustration...!).

My First Weekend at Nupur

A very common perception of Icelanders is that they love to drink and really make the most of their Saturday nights; I can now confirm that this is true. The justification for their drinking is that there’s just nothing else to do! So when the students at Nupur had nothing else to do on a Saturday night we followed the Icelanders’ example. Everyone was loaded with alcohol from the Vinbud (the government owned alcohol store: you can’t buy alcohol in supermarkets here) and one of the old school houses was turned into a bizarre kind of club. I won’t give you all the messy details, partly because I’m sure my parents don’t want to know what I get up to on a Saturday night (nothing bad, I promise), and partly because, well, I’m not sure I can remember all the messy details!

Anyway, it was a fantastic night. As the party wound down a few of us ended up sitting and drinking with some of the locals and even our teacher (I could never do that on a school trip!). The Icelanders are known for partying all night and they were still going when I finally went to bed at 7am!

I woke up around midday and remembered that I was due to go kayaking at 2pm. I waited for the mother of all hangovers to kick in but it never did and I was surprisingly fine - it must be the air here!

We were driven to a local town to kayak in the sea and we were on the water for a couple of hours. As always, the scenery was beautiful and luckily the weather was perfect.

Me, Andrea and Enya looking SO good!

After we’d finished kayaking, one of the instructors asked if anyone wanted a ride in his speed boat. Enya and I jumped in and had a fantastic ride back to the town.

The man seemed so nice and friendly - until he asked us if we wanted to join him and his friends to smoke weed and go to the swimming pool. We politely declined.