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COFFEE & MY HAPPY LIGHT

Lots of coffee and time with the happy light needed today–it’s back to howling wind and blizzard-like conditions after yesterday’s beautiful sun.

THE SMELL OF THE SEA & THE SNOW

January 12th at noon in Kopavogur, Iceland

First was the smell of the sea and the snow then a sighting of swans on my midday walk in the land of perpetual twilight.

TROLLS, BONFIRES & PUTREFIED SKATE—Surviving the Holidays in Iceland

I spent December talking about trolls: the one with the big nose that sniffs doorways, the peeping tom troll, the one with an unusually long tongue that licks empty bowls, or the sly one that steals Skyr (yogurt). Staying in Iceland for Christmas meant accepting all kinds of wild and wacky traditions, including feigning belief in a group of thirteen trolls, also known as the Yule lads.

Door sniffer Yule lad

I knew it was getting weird when M, our 4 year-old, came home from preschool terrified and obsessed with these thirteen trolls. He knew all their names, stories, and the perfect Icelandic pronunciation for each of them. He loved that if he left his shoe in the window for the thirteen evenings proceeding Christmas, he’d get a gift from them (one each night). But he was terrified that his vanilla Skyr would go missing or the door-slamming troll would spook him while he slept. Imagine the look on his face when he spoke about their mother, Gryla, or their cat, both of whom eat children (the mom if kids misbehave, the cat if kids don’t get new clothing).

all 13 yule lads, courtesy of Boyd Stephan

View from a Christmas Market

View returning from a Christmas market

But this was only the beginning. While the skies stayed dark, with only 4-5 hours of daylight each day, the celebrations grew in number and size. There were parties to celebrate the release of the Christmas ale, Christmas markets in every neighborhood, and even scavenger hunts in downtown Reykjavik to find the projected images of these animated trolls. We ice skated, we drank, and we ventured to Christmas museums and the hinterlands to find a Santa that danced around a campfire and sold Christmas trees.

Christmas festivities at the city museum

Christmas Cat animated image downtown

On the 23^rd, we headed to the main street to sniff out the putrefied skate, a holiday delicacy. Wandering among hundreds of people, we lingered under a light snowfall while the smell of ammonia wafted around us. On the 24^th, the family set out for the Blue Lagoon to soak and steam beneath snow, howling wind, and sleet.

Downtown Reykjavik on the 23rd

Headed into the Blue Lagoon, 10am

Blue Lagoon, Christmas Eve

Light snowfall became a Christmas blizzard that soon turned into tremendous explosions. For the New Year, Icelanders go nuts. Everyone lights fireworks: in their front yard, off balconies, over the sea. No license required, no fire department needed, no age requirement—any size explosion is available to you. Between massive bonfires and big bangs we rang in the New Year among friends.

New Years Eve, image from Icelandtravel.is

Exhausted, we slept through the long black morning of New Years Day before we headed to the President’s home for a diplomatic reception. In our finery, Mr. Green and I toasted a last glass of champagne and stared out at the grey blue sky as it, once again, turned to darkness.

Residence for the President of Iceland

GOING DARK: WINTER SOLSTICE IN ICELAND

My days are dark. In Reykjavik, the world’s northernmost capital, we move from one black space to another. Snow falls, hail is intermittent, wind howls, clouds part and soar, sometimes there is rain, and always there is the absence of light.

I’d been warned and promised of this phenomenon—a life with little daylight. And now, with winter solstice hours away, I am compelled to share it with you. Following is my day in hourly photographs. Breathtakingly beautiful scenery, grey and pink shades of sky, cozy nooks, nature, and lots of darkness. . .

6 AM

7 AM

Main Road into Reykjavik

8 AM

My favorite summer cafe, closed for winter

9 AM

Kopavogur (Reykjavik suburb)

10 AM

new modern neighborhood, still dark out. . .

11 AM

(first real light was about 10:35, this followed shortly after)

DAYBREAK

12 PM– HIGH NOON

Reykjavik as seen from the Alftanes Peninsula

1 PM

Sun at its apex from Hafnafjordur

2 PM

Icebergs on the Sea, swans in the distance

3 PM

Reykjavik from the Pearl (Perlan)

4 PM

Return to darkness --Ducks at the Pond

5 PM

Christmas Lights downtown

BOUNCE

Geysir

I bounce: between countries, between days, between states of mind. Write. Travel. Parent. Host. Play. Edit. I don’t know stasis, nor routine. My steady state is lost. There is only movement, change, bounce.

Gullfoss Waterfall

If I was a techie, I’d create a color-coded chart showing all the activity I’ve had since July. 10 cities. 4 countries. Weeks of full-time childcare duty or full-time entertaining of house-guests. After we arrived in Reykjavik and I got both kids enrolled in schools and after-school activities, I sketched out a comprehensive calendar that allowed me 25 hours a week to myself. Then miraculously I added another 3 hours to my schedule. 28 hours! With that kind of time, I really could do it all—grow Ever After Studio, revise the novel, exercise in earnest. But that would be too simple. Flat.

http://algonkianconferences.com/ photo thanks to Kathy Weyer

In mid-October, I said goodbye to our houseguest, a dear friend, and immediately packed my own bags. Three days later, I flew to San Francisco. I met with A, my biz partner, to talk about current and future projects for Ever After Studio, our children’s book production company (www.EverAfterStudio.com).  Then I moved over to Fort Mason for the Algonkian Writer’s Conference. For five days, a small group of writers sat in a workshop and revised our pitches, listened to speakers and lectures, and met with agents. It was an impressive group of novelists with some real talent. I left inspired, invigorated, and with clear marching orders for exactly what I need to do next to revise and then find a home for my novel. Evenings were crammed with conference homework and connecting with old friends: my sister flew up for two nights, I met S’s brand new baby, ate and drank with the BOX (Cal friends), the Obrunis (Univ of Ghana friends), and the Craft (Chronicle friends). I even ran into my high school dean at a friend’s book reading in North Beach. Luckily it was an amusing and productive action-packed week and it wasn’t, as I started to fear, my life flashing before my eyes.

my dad and me on Halloween

On my return to Reykjavik, I said hello then goodbye to Mr. Green, as it was his turn for a week-long conference in the US. He left and my mama arrived, then my dad. Their two-week visit was full of touring: introductions to the schools, the sites around town, places to play with kids, museums and group outings, a handful of Halloween celebrations, a magnificent symphony concert in the new Harpa Concert Hall and failed efforts at spotting the northern lights. I’ve really only seen them once or twice.

reykjavik sunset

As soon as my parents left, we paused for a few days before the Green family headed out en masse to London. Mr. Green had use-it-or-lose-it vacation days and with London only a three-hour flight away, and in the same time zone even, it was hard to pass up. Oh, how I love London. Not just the unbelievable homes we stayed in and old friends we saw, but the charming tree-lined streets, the great shopping, the millions of cultures and languages and people wandering the streets. We saw dinosaurs come to life in the Natural History museum, we rode Captain Hook’s ship in the amazing playground in Kensington, we walked through the enchanted palace exhibit in Kensington and the maze in Hampton Court. We donned costumes in the V&A and rode double decker buses, tubes, trains, taxis, and the Eye. We walked for millions of miles. We toured the Tower of London and bought trinkets at Harrods and handfuls at H&M. We watched penguins and jellyfish at the aquarium and then ate fish and chips and pastries, and Asian and American and African and everything-in-between food—there were treats at every turn.

We returned again to Reykjavik a few days ago. But what about my writing? My 28 hours each week to grow the business, work on the novel? With all the jumping, my schedule was scrapped and work happened in evenings, or in stolen hours, in moments between. But only work for Ever After Studio. Happily, for EAS I’m writing two new stories that have a publisher. And two new projects are in the works. The current projects are also moving along, new designs, new interest, new formats, all very promising. But the novel? That sits in a pile on my desk. Almost near the top. Now and again I open the folder, make a note about next steps, leaf through the conference notebook, read a page and close it. Not today. Soon.

Harrods at night

Hampton Court

We hope to go to California in the new year. We’ve promised the family. But that is months away. For now, we have no travel planned. No visitors. Just my precious schedule and my desire to settle. Slow. To relax and really exist in Reykjavik. And write and edit, and live for moments with only a little bit of a bounce.

AUTUMN IN ICELAND

Snow dusts the top of the great mountain and the wind howls something fierce. Air whistles and screams through the chimney as the gusts blow sheets of rain. Waves of water move sideways in the grey world outside. Grateful to spend this dreary Saturday morning in my pajamas, sheltered behind these thick panes of glass, I thought I’d share some recent snapshots from around Reykjavik.

 

Blue Lagoon

With cold air on my neck and a drizzle of rain on my cheeks, I spent the end of September tooling around Reykjavik with a visitor, a dear old friend. One of our first outings, of course, was to the famed Blue Lagoon where we soaked in the hot, steamy water . Bliss.

In town we climbed to the top of the highest church, drank too much delicious coffee, and admired eccentric Iceland.

From atop the church

 

Mokka Coffee House

knitted trees

Then we headed to the southwest, past the famous Eyjafjallajokul volcano (a name I can finally pronounce!) On the black sand beach of Vik we climbed among the basalt columns and snuck into a gloomy cave while the fierce waves crashed at our feet.

basalt columns at vik

my favorite cave

Turning inland, we drove to our first glacier. As we hiked onto the icy surface, we laughed as we slipped every which way. What kind of a crazy place was this? A glacier!

Glacier!

glacier up close

On our return to Reykjavik, we stopped at two waterfalls. Hiking behind the second fall, we were drenched from the mist and charmed by the ancient turf homes beside it.

behind the falls

Oh Iceland, you are charming in autumn.