Harry Potter & Penises

Its amazing how 5 weeks in Australia can go relatively smoothly but a long weekend in Iceland not so!

So, in search of the elusive Northern Lights its off to Reykjavik for 4 nights on a package holiday.  I can hear my own eyes rolling to the back of my head…I don’t do packages – get on the bus, get off the bus, go for a wee, go see that sight, get back on the bus, sit in the same seat, get off the bus and so its usually continues.

We listened to Tina, the tour guides list of “useful” information from the airport to the hotel – thankfully this is one of the first flights of the day so she’s not sick of her life yet being on tour script repeat, but she did take pride in the fact that Reykjavik is the only place to have a penis museum – Ohh it will be a pretty shitty sad day if we end up in there.

As they had a big snow storm just before we landed it was boots & hats at the ready and out for a walk – Richard managing to find every bit of ice as he made his way into town eventually ending up on his arse just before we made it to the free bus which takes you to Perlan (it’s up a steep hill at the top of the city). I’m not entirely sure Bambi would have made it to the top without breaking his neck…bus it is.

In Perlan theres a planetarium where you can watch a film about the Northern Lights and how beautiful and bright they are – amazing greens, blues, purples, fingers crossed for tonight to see them for real.

 

We decided, as the sun had come out, to walk back to town – after all it was downhill so it should be easier walking, can you hear the eyes roll again? “Lets take the short cut through the woods” Richard says. Which would have been fine if you’d had a sledge but with size 5 feet and the start of a cold it didn’t bode well, sure enough halfway down the hill I’m flat on my back in the snow and Richards best idea to get me to the bottom was to drag me by one leg.  As he marched the rest of the way down he didn’t realise that he turned me into a human snow plough collecting every bit of snow between my legs – only to turn around and say “you see that was easier wasn’t it?”  I might just ring the penis museum and ask if they want a 6 foot, grey haired cockney as one of their exhibits!

Just enough time to thaw out my legs and onto the bus for the Northern Lights tour and more of Tina the tour guides script of crap.  So, the best chance to see the aurora, theres meant to be no light pollution, clear skies and previous sun shower activity which puzzles me as to why we’ve stopped in a motorway lay-by 50 minutes out of town where you can still see the city street lights!  Then it all becomes apparent as the other tour bus has tried to reverse and got stuck in a ditch – so instead of looking up to the skies willing the lights to appear we’re watching the coach driver revving his engine, trying to bounce the coach out of the ditch, then using the passengers on board as ballast getting them to run to the front of the bus as he has his foot flat on the accelerator in the hope they make it out before morning.

Amazingly, it only takes him 1/2 hour much to the cheers on our bus, we can eventually get on our way.  We end up on the opposite of the city, I’m still not convinced its dark enough but hayho lets get out and look.  After sitting for only an hour and only seeing a very faint milky white arch it’s time to head back to the coach.  I chose the well gritted path… Richard chose the frozen lake – I think the sips of brandy from the hip flask has made him think it was some kind of magic potion and he’s Harry Potter and capable of walking safely over it.  My parting words of “you’re not serious? crack on then!” wasn’t the best phrase to use, it doesn’t take a genius to work out what happened next.  Just as he gets to the opposite side I hear Craaack, followed by “Arghh”, then “can you give me a hand? I think I’ve pulled a muscle, my leg is soaking wet and I have a boot full of water”

We’re last to make it back to the coach just in time to get a luke warm hot chocolate and hear “well they came out for a little bit” Mmmm, no I don’t think so, where was the green, blue & purple? – unless I’m colour blind of course.  Never mind, we’ll see them one day.

Its off to the Blue Lagoon the next day and by all accounts Richard wasn’t the only one to have a mishap the night before, it obviously was dark enough for some as one woman fell down a pot hole and another down a half dug grave!  Just as well they are all off to the healing silica waters, it might mean they walk back like normal people rather than the walking wounded.  2 hours in the boiling blue water, a face pack and a beer later alas not healed but an awful lot cleaner.  We might not have seen the Northern Lights but we were treated to the most beautiful sunset on the way home.

 

And so it comes to our last day, a shitty sad, rainy Reykjavik Sunday morning – so where else to go? Hello Penises!

So, they are all pickled in jars one from almost every mammal on earth and I had one of my Egyptian moments of thinking how sad it was, these poor animals die and the first thing the Icelanders think of is “do we have one their cocks in our museum”  if not, out come the scissors to lob it off!  Richard then said “well they’re dead what difference does it make?” I might remind him of that when he’s on his death bed and I’m sharpening the kitchen knife.  However, they do already have a human donor pinned to the wall, a Mr Dower – I’m sure he was after the museum staff were waiting to collect his knob completing their card set of Happy Families.

Continuing our cultural day we had early drinks at Bastard followed by a lovely meal in a posh restaurant.  Unfortunately, the restaurant had a lot of industrial beams which my head pin-balled between but thanks to the 2 Bastard beers I’d had earlier – didn’t feel a thing.

And so ends another journey…here’s to the joys of India next month.

I’m taking the 6 foot penis with me this time!