Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Bay

To stave off any claustrophobia the last few posts might elicit, here's the big blue sea, with the Smoke City skyline in the distance.

I went on my first whale watching excursion last week, just as the weather was finally deciding to favor us with some spring sunshine. It was a group charter affair coordinated by Tækniskólinn as a fine sendoff for employees at the end of the school year. There were at least a hundred of us partaking in the bright sunshine and excellent catered surf and turf dinner on an Elding boat co-skippered by a guy named Vilhjálmur whom I just happen to know.


Oddly, the Elding diary claims that the 17:00 tour on the day we went out "has been cancelled due to strong winds out in the bay." We left at 17:15, and yes it was definitely windy! I wonder, though, if the fact that amongst our group were the very men who run the School of Navigation (located at our sister campus on Háteigsveig just next door to this lovely church many of you will recognize) had anything to do with us setting off onto the High Seas of Faxaflói regardless of any bothersome southerly gusts. These teachers of the oceanic arts most probably taught the captain, and definitely Vilhjálmur, who studied skipstjórn and graduated in 2011.

The tower of the Stýrimannaskólinn building was long used as the main guide for ships coming to port in Reykjavík, but as Haukur Gunnarsson, below, pointed out to me, this still-empty pre-crash  steel and glass wonder now blocks the view (see the skyline photo for proof.)

Some of us, including Haukur who teaches among other things Aviation English, chose to ride the waves adventure-style: standing on a bench on the top deck, holding onto a pole for balance. There's no doubt that we had way more fun up there getting all sea-salty than some of our poor slightly greenish-looking cohorts who chose to suffer it out below deck. And we even spied a few pods of dolphin to boot!

Moral of the story? Take a boat ride when you're here. Pack your foul weather gear and find a bit of railing to lean into. Let the ocean sprays wake you and make you feel like an old-style viking for a little bit. As you sail west, out of the bay, pretend you are on your way to mythical Greenland, just out of sight over the horizon, and possibly lands beyond. And keep your eyes open for creatures of the sea, who may put on a show that you can imagine is only just for you.

Have you tried Dynamic Viewing yet? Five new views in all. Use the blue tab at the top of the view page to check them all out : )

J. Co's donut

Sinful yet delicious and deeply satisfying due to the oozing chocolate from the inside.

Name of donut: Coco Loco

It was free!!

Mum gave a thumbs up to J. Co's hot cappocino, while I give two thumbs down to their ice chocolate.

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Frontera, Jaya One

I have been yearning to try Frontera's super spicy buffalo wings which has managed to make grown men weep with just one bite. Well, at least that was what I read from blogs.

One plate of 5 pieces of super spicy buffalo wings was ordered. I took one bite, two bites, three bites.... NO TEARS! It was not even spicy to begin with.... It just had a bitter tangy flavour. It tasted like fried buffalo wings coated with tobasco sauce....... So dissapointed. Eat sambal from nasi lemak have more spicy kick than this so-called super spicy wings. Maybe it was spicy many many years ago, but they toned it down coz not many men wanna cry while eating right???

Besides buffalo wings, I visited two new malls - SS Two mall and Paradigm Mall in Kelana Jaya. Eventhough SS Two mall opened earlier than Paradigm Mall, but SS Two was soooooooo empty.... Currently there has been residential malls booming in KL, which is good :)

Monday, 28 May 2012

Theater




(I'd like to remind readers to use the search box at the top left corner, in the Blogger toolbar. I've covered literally thousands of topics in the past eight years and there's a good chance I've covered the ones you're interested in! If not, drop a comment and let me know ;)


Þjóðleikhúsið, or the National Theater of Iceland, is quite a beautiful building, and it's always a pleasure going to see shows there. My wonderful mother Ásthildur gave Valentína and I tickets to go see Les Misérable there a few weeks ago and yes I cried at the end (and somewhere in the middle too, maybe?) It was an almost full house for a show that's been running since the beginning of March and has dates set at least through June. This shot is of the main stage just before the second act, when patrons were just beginning to meander back in.

It can be a bit weird attempting to suspend disbelief when watching the same people you bump into at Bónus (as well as at your kids' schools, the gas station, the pub, children's birthday parties...basically everywhere) pour their hearts out in character on stage (and there is a lot of dramatic pouring out of hearts in Icelandic theater!) but I guess it is a bit cosy as well.

This is not an easy musical to sing, so I actually found myself feeling proud of our talented and dedicated locals who obviously pushed themselves to new heights to bring this classic to the Icelandic stage. This talent of course includes not only actors, but set, lighting and sound designers as well!

I had no idea that there was a thing called the Theater Museum of Iceland, but maybe it's because they have no permanent exhibition space as is. Their web site, though, is rich in local theater history (that's actually what I wrote my BA in Theater Arts thesis on while at UCSC, where my lovely niece Mekkin Roff is now studying, and actually performing/teching in their annual Chautauqua Festival :)

If you are into the arts and get a chance to see a production, especially one where the language barrier won't affect you so much (a musical, opera or play you've seen/read in English) I recommend going in for an evening's experience - for such a small country, Icelanders almost always succeed in producing theater on an international scale.


Have you tried Dynamic Viewing yet? Five new views in all. Use the blue tab at the top of the view page to check them all out.

Friday, 25 May 2012

Movement

A mother and her daughter exit a gate on a rainy May day at Óðinn's preschool, Grænaborg. He graduated yesterday in an official ceremony, complete with being called up to receive a diploma and rose, and to shake hands with the wonderful people who have been caring for him daytimes for the past four years. They're like family, and the safety and security of such a small school will be much missed.

But we grow and get older and change happens in our lives whether we like it or not. For a kid who just turned six this transition - from a cozy preschool campus to Austurbæjarskóli with its rich 82-year history, hundreds of students (many with families who have recently immigrated here) and geothermally-heated indoor swimming pool - is a huge deal. Never mind that the two schools are less than quarter mile apart, on either side of Hallgrímskirkja. This is as dramatic as an intercontinental relocation!

His father and I considered private schools, but ultimately I'm really glad that our boy will be attending an urban campus only yards away from our home, that encourages multicultural education without that drive to total assimilation into Icelandic society that has been such pressing and often destructive force here. (I often tell people that even though I am a 'pure-bred' I still choose to speak Business American on the phone when dealing with companies or banks or anything money related -- basically when people only hear me with my accent I seem to get much worse service! If I show up in person, though, and speak my Icelandic [which is admittedly a totally unique language ;] all is fine: I look Icelandic [whatever that means these days!] and am forgiven my less-than-perfect conjugations. *Not cool!*)

When Iceland opened itself up in the 80's to becoming an active part of the global capitalist conversation, allowing an influx of foreign goods and services to dilute the cultural 'purity' and isolationism of the previous centuries, it effectively gave up the ability to control the rampant growth and often destructive effects of consumerism. The foreign-born talent and labor that has followed in the wake of globalization, and especially the children of these immigrants, simply cannot be denied the same opportunities and rights as the 'pure-breds' whose ancestors have clung to this lava rock for over a millennia now.  A human is a human is a human, and we're all in this Life on Earth thing together. I'm happy that Óðinn will continue to get the chance to meet kids from all over the world at school, and grow from that experience : )

Have you tried Dynamic Viewing yet? Five new views in all. Use the blue tab at the top of the view page to check them all out.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

If These Walls Could Talk

A Wonderful Movie

There was a brilliant HBO movie made back in 2000 called "If These Walls Could Talk (2)".  It starred Vanessa Redgrave, Michelle Williams, Chloë Sevigny, Sharon Stone and Ellen DeGeneres (quite the cast for a TV movie).  



The basic idea was there was the story of the same house that had 3 sets of lesbian couples living in it: in 1961, in 1972 and 2000.  The first story is very bitter-sweet: the couple lives in secrecy and when one of them dies, the other has to move out.  By the 70s the story is much more about a "burn your bra" fiery brand of confident feminist lesbian identity.  In 2000 the perfectly "regular" lesbian couple's main concern is having a child together.

It is a beautiful film that I remember watching in Bermuda where I was living at the time.  My parents were visiting, so I went to watch it at a friend's.  I was mildly scandalised when I later found out my (then) 60 year old Mutti had pretended to go to bed, and had got up to watch it herself after I'd left.  I thought a lesbian theme was just a bit too grown-up for her.

ANYWAY the house is a character in the movie.  This is a wonderful thing: the idea that the walls are a silent observer of the lives and changing times of the people who dwell inside.  I have often lain in bed of my home thinking about those who have been here too before.

A Little Bit About My Home

My little thatched cottage dates from before 1450.  I bought it in a terrible state in 2002.  I had to renew essentially everything in it, clear the almost 2m high nettles from the wasteland that was the garden, re-ridge the thatch and gut the interior.  I had a pair of hippy historic builders (who between copious "cigarette" breaks) would tell me about the cottage and what they were finding out as they worked on it.
My Little Home

The first thing was that it was built with no foundations, sitting on the earth, with a dirt floor, and originally it had only one level.  It has a timber frame, and the walls are made of "wattle and daub" (clay and interwoven sticks).  The whole house leans over at the back by a good 20cm after it "settled" once built.

The cottage has a high pitched roof to allow the water to run off the thatch (the pitch is always far steeper than on a tiled roof) - but also to allow smoke to rise from an open fire in the dirt floor.  This fire would have provided heat, light and cooking for the inhabitants.  In the loft space is a triangular structure which would have been covered in an animal skin, and pulled to one side to allow the smoke to escape.  This is what dates the house to pre-1450: after that date it would have had a brick chimney as they "made it" to this area around then apparently.

THINK ABOUT THAT!!!  This is almost like living in a wigwam.  Images of Monty Python come to my mind.  We have no idea exactly how old the place is: it could be 1200, it could be 1300.  The little town itself goes back to Norman times.

Around the mid 16th century a Tudor chimney was added: this is easily identified from the brick used.  An upstairs level was also put in: there are 30cm wide oak timbers upstairs that look like ship's planks.  Because the house was only supposed to be one level, I effectively sleep up in the roof.  You can see from this picture that the bedroom window is at knee height.  The headroom downstairs is only just over 6' (I'm just taller than that), but upstairs it's a bit more.

My bedroom: note how the roof slopes down
Eco-Cottage

It is a one bedroom cottage. It's tiny.  I live here on my own with the mutt, Oscar, and we have just enough space to be comfy.  Downstairs is an entrance hall, a sitting room, and a kitchen.  A door leads to a steep little flight of stairs and the upstairs where there is the bedroom and an en-suite.  I wanted it to feel like a hotel as I like them so much.  It has everything I require for a very comfy existence.

This is the warmest, cosiest home I've ever lived in.  There was some research done on Medieval and Tudor houses, and the fact they have better insulation values than modern houses.  The problem came when the Georgians and Victorians shoved in big windows to let light in and the heat just escaped.  A set of eco-glass secondary double glazing has sorted that problem out for me: my annual energy bills are tiny.

Hunger, Famine and History

This place is big enough for me and my needs: I wouldn't want some huge home that I don't need.  However, when I think about the "walls that talk" I think about the large families that would have lived here.  I have my concerns: we all do.  People would have lived here in this same house with the realities of infant mortality, hunger, plague and famine, however.

This was a poor workers' cottage.  Apparently the town was a centre of the spinning industry in the 19th century: before that it was probably agricultural workers: peasants in effect.  I sit here drinking lovely wine watching a DVD in the same space where babies would have cried, parents would have been unable to feed all their kids properly and life expectancy was brutally short.  This isn't me being poetic: it is the reality for the majority of the cottage's existence.  Someone who lived here previously told me that even up until 1980 there was a shared loo in the shed out the back for the 3 cottages in the row.  Nowadays I have a little "designer" garden there.  I'm quite aware of how good I have it.

Back Garden (hardwood chipping: no mowing!)

Then there are the historic events.  If this place was built in (say) 1420, it would already have been old when Columbus set sail for the New World.  It would have been over 160 when beacons were lit along the coast warning of the arrival of the Spanish Armada in 1588.  At over 200 years old the Cavaliers would have been meeting the Roundheads, tearing the country apart in Civil War.  At 245 years old, the Plague would have hit distant London: now just a 90 minute train ride away.  When Queen Victoria ascended the throne my cottage was almost 420 years old.  When the first car drove past my home, it had probably already had 480 years of people living in it.  The Luftwaffe dropped a solitary bomb on our town in the summer of 1940: my cottage had been standing for 520 years.  Pill boxes were being built all over East Anglia; the bells in the local church were silent, awaiting to ring out that the Germans had landed.  When I moved in this home was 580 years old: if it does date from 1420 it will be coming up to its 600th birthday soon.

Isn't this mind-blowing? I'm in awe of it.  How many souls have lived here?  I can't even imagine what they must have looked like, what their names were, what joy, love, upset and sadness must have been felt here.  "If these walks could talk".

Some Photos

My home isn't some design masterpiece, but it is a cute little place.  I've put some more pictures below showing some of the aspects.  I'm very proud of having "saved" the place and put some love and care back into it. 

Front door with Lion Knocker. RAWR: Come Inside!


Sitting Room with view to Kitchen

Kitchen: scene of many a culinary crime

Sitting Room. Giant Rat on Sofa





A strict "no pets on furniture" policy applies here

Dining Niche (with sleepy Rat)


Me tweeting. Usual position, feet up.

Secret Staircase! Lovely old door


Landing: stunning old timbers. Note floor planks!

View from Bed: fabulous old Tudor chimney

Bathroom Door: Little Boys' Room


Bathroom. Spend way too long in here

Bathroom Window View. Yup, it's Giant Rat again

Election Time Fun! Pissing off the Tories opposite \o/


And that's our little tour done! As ever thank you for reading and allowing me to share with you :-) Bye for now.




How much more?

There is this mentality where if you don't ask for ice for your cold drink, you will get much more of the drink. But then again, there are some places that fill the ice to the brim or just put 1 or 2 cubes.

Here I am at BSC's food court called Burp. I placed an order for soya bean (rm2). When I saw the server putting ice into the cup, I decided not to have ice because I did not want to drink cold soya bean. The cashier then told me it would cost 50 cents more if I opted for an iceless soya bean drink.

I was actually shocked to hear that there will be an extra charge! So, I changed my order back to the iced soya bean. Guess what! Three ice cubes only in my soya bean drink... Having it iceless would not make much of a difference AND definitely not worth 50cents... What a rip off!