I love to visit Iceland. Not because of the landscape (We Do Not Use landscapes), but because of the people there. Man, they're funny and good to talk to.
This time (last week, for two days only) I detected a deep, slow-burning anger in the folks up there, that I haven't felt before.
One of them - a very stylish, suit-dressed bartender in his 40's, who broke his principle about not talking politics with guests (hey, the bar was empty), said that he suspected there would be real riots in the fall of 2010 if the few guilty bastards were not punished for real in court.
The handful of real bastards have been driven out of Iceland, by the way: People simply spat on them when they met them on the street AND painted their houses and cars red at night. One of the bastards re-painted his house in its original color. Guess what happened the following night.
They all now live in the UK or Florida.
Fine and good. Now you know.
But this post is about the one thing you should never ask an Icelander to do: A list.
You see, back around year 900 several Norwegian vikings sailed to Iceland. They pretty much remembered everything: Clothes. Food. The ship. Oares. Live animals. Tools. Pen & Paper. You know - all the usual stuff for a 400 years voyage.
But whoever was in charge of The Norwegian Iceland Travel List forgot one thing, and whether they discovered it quickly (i.e. on the journey) or when they had settled in in their small mud huts, I do not know. But man, they must have told The List Guy a thing or two upon suddenly remembering what they had forgot:
Anyway, they apparently decided to do something about it, because DNA-tests of Icelandic women some years ago confirmed that they originate from the British isles.
The British scientist who found this out, and who was interviewed on Danish Radio, commented on the fact that Icelandic women look Pretty Damn Good by saying (rather drily): "They probably didn't take the ugly ones."
So now you know.
Moans Longballs Nogood