Bit of a Blur by Alex James

Author:Alex James [JAMES, ALEX]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: LITTLE BROWN
Published: 2010-09-01T22:00:00+00:00

Iceland

It’s hard to stay really alive, to keep really stimulated. Hedonism is a full-time job. To keep finding new ecstasies and not get stuck in old routines takes all of a man’s might and all the world’s serendipity.

Iceland is somewhere else altogether. It has different geography from the rest of the world. It doesn’t look that big on maps, but when I got there it was gigantic. It’s got big weather, distant horizons and hundreds of miles of nothing at all. It’s not really built on the human scale. Maybe that’s what it is. Trees are usually there to help to put things in proportion, but there aren’t any trees in Iceland. It goes straight from little bushes to huge mountains and volcanoes. It’s quite a new place, geologically. Actually it’s the newest land mass on earth. It burped out of a submarine volcano not long ago at all, and is still a planetary building site. It’s totally topsy-turvy. The water is either frozen solid or steaming and the landscape, with its petrified lava flows, gives an impression of fluidity. Reykjavik is only about the size of Bournemouth. It’s very cosy and clean. The water in the river that runs through the centre is absolutely pure and tastes delicious. There are docks with fishermen and parks with no tramps in. You can’t really be homeless that far north. Damon hadn’t stopped talking about it since he’d first been in January. He had stayed a few weeks, written some songs and accumulated an entourage. It was about midnight when we went out. It was still sunny though. There is one high street of shops and bars and it was thronging with people. We stood on a roof terrace and watched the good times roll. There was a semi-official welcoming committee with sausage rolls and brennivin. Brennivin is the local tipple. It’s definitely got cumin in it, and alcohol. It’s drunk in little snifters alongside a tall, thin, cool glass of lager.

From the terrace, everywhere I looked there was something else that caught my eye: a distant wilderness, a volcano, a silent sea, a couple snogging, a startlingly beautiful girl. It was all new and interesting. I sipped on a beer and drank the views. A few people had asked if I’d seen any pixies yet. Pixies are a thing in Iceland. People became more friendly when I said that I thought I might have seen one, actually. Thor said it was more likely an elf, when I described it to him. Thor asked me what I wanted. I was beginning to get used to that happening, recently: strangers asking me if I needed anything. I said I wanted to go horse riding, please. He said that was easy and before I had time to finish my beer we were driving up a dirt track in a large, old car. First they had to catch the ponies. A couple of Vikings ran around shouting and chasing, falling over and laughing. Pretty soon they’d caught a couple.

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