Thursday, September 22, 2005
An English farewell
Dear friends
From now on my blog will be in a “modernized” version of Icelandic, i.e. English. Although Shakespeare himself probably would have been able to understand my language, at least parts of it, I fear that modern English speakers have lost the fine art of comprehending the roots of their lingo, except for classic words such as saga and geyser, which everyone knows are two of the finest words of the English language...
I have been to many places since I last saw most of you in St Andy’s. My first stop was the wonderful city of Madrid or Madilli as the Chinese call it. I was accompanied by a native, our own crazy Spaniard, Aro. I cannot share much of that experience here, since my native guide threatened to “dress my entire family in black” if I would reveal the secrets of the city. She took me to all the sites uncontaminated by “filthy” tourists. I am therefore in trouble if, say a Dutchman stumbles upon one of those cult bars…sorry mummy! All I can say is pretty fucking great and I’ll be back (a la Schwarzenegger).
I then visited the fascinating city of Londres, where I had a errr, sort of an English guide with a Southern hemisphere twist- thanks Stu. I saw not-as-big-as-I-thought-Benjamin, Downer Street where the evil troll Tony Blair-witch and his orcs reside, Must-have-cost-a-Buck-ingham-palace and other places of which I honestly don’t remember the names. My second night in Londres I had another guide, this one wasn’t English either, but nevertheless took me to the local pub, where the service was excellent. It didn’t start very well though, because 5 minutes after we arrived, a Rastafarian looking dude, spilled our super expensive Cronenbourg Blanc (3,50 quid a pint but worth it, yummy…) all over us. The good thing was that we got free drinks afterwards and the owner even kissed my hand after I returned from the toilet. Very friendly breed indeed those Londoners. I went shopping in Camden the next day, which was interesting since I didn’t have any money… Wound up on top of Primrose Hill, desperately seeking Jude Law. The little bastard naturally wasn’t there, probably off errrr, “training” his new nanny.
Later that day, I had to say bye-bye to Britain and had England’s “finest” bidding me farewell. I must explain I took a train with some of the most unfortunate Brits good old England has to offer. Let me see, there was the nice looking blonde, reading a book- but when she looked over the book, I saw she was in fact not so-nice-looking after all and she gave me a look that would freeze even that torch guy from the Fantastic Four. Kind of reminded me of a transvestite plastic surgery gone bad, but nice legs anyway. Then there was the pleasant looking lady sitting next to me, which turned out to have hmmm breasts that gravity had pulled down to her hips. She wore nice wedges, but started scratching her feet and the most horrible sour smell came out from the scratched areas… Last, but not least, there was the young businessman who was a chronic nose-picker. We’re talking about serious digging action here, even Olympic scale. When he finally stopped picking his nose and examining every chunk of hmm nose-extract, he starting digging his fingers into his ears moving the ear-jam over to his trousers and from there he brushed the entire lot on to the floor of the train with his fingers. The only normal looking person there was the young-kind-of-cute sleeping guy, who ultimately started drooling. It was unreal! I believe, her majesty Lizzie 2, must have sent her special, “don’t ever come back” squad to see me off. I had been really sad about leaving London, but the train-gang made me think that maybe it was better to go home after all, he he. Too cut a long story short I knew I was home when I looked out the airplane window and saw the Aurora Borealis bathing the plane in an eerie fluorescent light. The dancing green lights of the Arctic sky bid me welcome home and reminded me that we have a unique nature on the little island in the middle of the North Atlantic, the reason why I started studying Environmental History in the first place.
Ciao darlings
From now on my blog will be in a “modernized” version of Icelandic, i.e. English. Although Shakespeare himself probably would have been able to understand my language, at least parts of it, I fear that modern English speakers have lost the fine art of comprehending the roots of their lingo, except for classic words such as saga and geyser, which everyone knows are two of the finest words of the English language...
I have been to many places since I last saw most of you in St Andy’s. My first stop was the wonderful city of Madrid or Madilli as the Chinese call it. I was accompanied by a native, our own crazy Spaniard, Aro. I cannot share much of that experience here, since my native guide threatened to “dress my entire family in black” if I would reveal the secrets of the city. She took me to all the sites uncontaminated by “filthy” tourists. I am therefore in trouble if, say a Dutchman stumbles upon one of those cult bars…sorry mummy! All I can say is pretty fucking great and I’ll be back (a la Schwarzenegger).
I then visited the fascinating city of Londres, where I had a errr, sort of an English guide with a Southern hemisphere twist- thanks Stu. I saw not-as-big-as-I-thought-Benjamin, Downer Street where the evil troll Tony Blair-witch and his orcs reside, Must-have-cost-a-Buck-ingham-palace and other places of which I honestly don’t remember the names. My second night in Londres I had another guide, this one wasn’t English either, but nevertheless took me to the local pub, where the service was excellent. It didn’t start very well though, because 5 minutes after we arrived, a Rastafarian looking dude, spilled our super expensive Cronenbourg Blanc (3,50 quid a pint but worth it, yummy…) all over us. The good thing was that we got free drinks afterwards and the owner even kissed my hand after I returned from the toilet. Very friendly breed indeed those Londoners. I went shopping in Camden the next day, which was interesting since I didn’t have any money… Wound up on top of Primrose Hill, desperately seeking Jude Law. The little bastard naturally wasn’t there, probably off errrr, “training” his new nanny.
Later that day, I had to say bye-bye to Britain and had England’s “finest” bidding me farewell. I must explain I took a train with some of the most unfortunate Brits good old England has to offer. Let me see, there was the nice looking blonde, reading a book- but when she looked over the book, I saw she was in fact not so-nice-looking after all and she gave me a look that would freeze even that torch guy from the Fantastic Four. Kind of reminded me of a transvestite plastic surgery gone bad, but nice legs anyway. Then there was the pleasant looking lady sitting next to me, which turned out to have hmmm breasts that gravity had pulled down to her hips. She wore nice wedges, but started scratching her feet and the most horrible sour smell came out from the scratched areas… Last, but not least, there was the young businessman who was a chronic nose-picker. We’re talking about serious digging action here, even Olympic scale. When he finally stopped picking his nose and examining every chunk of hmm nose-extract, he starting digging his fingers into his ears moving the ear-jam over to his trousers and from there he brushed the entire lot on to the floor of the train with his fingers. The only normal looking person there was the young-kind-of-cute sleeping guy, who ultimately started drooling. It was unreal! I believe, her majesty Lizzie 2, must have sent her special, “don’t ever come back” squad to see me off. I had been really sad about leaving London, but the train-gang made me think that maybe it was better to go home after all, he he. Too cut a long story short I knew I was home when I looked out the airplane window and saw the Aurora Borealis bathing the plane in an eerie fluorescent light. The dancing green lights of the Arctic sky bid me welcome home and reminded me that we have a unique nature on the little island in the middle of the North Atlantic, the reason why I started studying Environmental History in the first place.
Ciao darlings
Comments:
<< Home
You know my darling... I loved your stories... First of all, I detest your stupid Government for letting those bastards dig their fucking holes in the most beautiful country in the world, with the most extraordinary nature I have ever seen in my life, and I have been in many places... If I would be in Iceland right now I would be demonstrating with you all... But as I am not... please demonstrate for me... you know you at least have to scream some times and kick some stupid icelanders that support this dissaster of human egoism...
Secondly I would like to underline that you have dedicated MORE LINES to that huge mass of buildings so-called London but just a few lines to my beautiful Madrid... (:') Yeah... I will not reveal my beloved bars and pubs to which I wouldnt take EVER anybody that is not closed to me (almost my family)... however I would like to say that it was great to have you here, the best time ever, and that it was wonderful to have you here with me... The best holidays I have ever had in my own city!!!
Cheers to Bjork!!!
And kisses, keep us up to date with your life and the Iceland news on nature!!!
XXXX
AROA
Secondly I would like to underline that you have dedicated MORE LINES to that huge mass of buildings so-called London but just a few lines to my beautiful Madrid... (:') Yeah... I will not reveal my beloved bars and pubs to which I wouldnt take EVER anybody that is not closed to me (almost my family)... however I would like to say that it was great to have you here, the best time ever, and that it was wonderful to have you here with me... The best holidays I have ever had in my own city!!!
Cheers to Bjork!!!
And kisses, keep us up to date with your life and the Iceland news on nature!!!
XXXX
AROA
Good to know that the Spanish green force is with us...
I miss ya too man--we shall meet again soon I hope. I am still planning on coming down to St Andy's in November...if I find a cheap flight..
Kisses
Post a Comment
I miss ya too man--we shall meet again soon I hope. I am still planning on coming down to St Andy's in November...if I find a cheap flight..
Kisses
<< Home