smaack my cheese

i'm going to miss iceland. it's the most beautiful place i've ever been. there are mountains everywhere you look, and geysers, and craters. everything is designed in a cold but striking sort of way. everyone is an artist--in every cafe people are working on their laptops, or writing, or advertising their next show. louisa's cousin's hairdresser is also in a pretty well known band. i think it's called "har." the horses are really small and cute (but icelandic people get mad when you call them ponies). when they have to move a large rock to build something, a woman is called in to get the permission of the elves. on the other hand it's cold, and expensive, and people are kind of materialistic alcoholics. at the trendy bar in the hotel where louisa worked, she said men occassionally peed on their stools. the bar closes at midnight.

we went to kaffibarrin, a bar that might be owned by the lead singer of blur, last night. it closed at 12:30 for good friday (long friday here--the people we talked to found the idea of calling jesus' death "good" kind of ridiculous) even though no one in iceland is actually religious (except for the 10% that believe wholeheartedly in elves). i continued to not see bjork. we went to some guys' apartment where one of them played weird icelandic music while the other one lectured us on american politics. so we're going to london.