Iceland Noir, Here We Come Again

 

Jeff––Saturday

 

Today we’re off to our fifth appearance at Iceland Noir, the shining frosty star at the very top of a glorious tree of writers get-togethers. That’s my way of saying this post shall be brief.

 

I LOVE ICELAND NOIR.  It’s unique in the world of book festivals because there is only one track of panels (allowing all to see every panel), AND not a book for sale in sight! Iceland Noir is not about selling books, it’s about hanging out with your mates in a family reunion sort of affair hosted by Yrsa Sigurdardottir, Oskar Gudmundsson, Ragnar Jonasson, and Eva Bjorg Aegisdottir.  

 

The town of Reykjavik, the people, the ambiance, the nightlife, all create a sense of what legendary Berlin or Paris must have been like in their heydays, seasoned with a bit of old Amsterdam. Whatever it is, this place has all the right vibes, and it’s a joy to be back.

 

Plus, the island nation’s non-urban landscape is pure magic and other worldly.  It’s hard not to be inspired by a visit to Iceland.

 

Below is a hodgepodge of photos taken at last year’s festival and on a post-festival a trip into the countryside by some of us. I’ll leave it up to you to identify the folk…as there should be a bit of mystery to this post rather than just my rambling on as if a commercial for the Iceland National Tourist Board. 

 

For more details on who’ll be participating in this year’s festival, click on this link.

 

 

 

––Jeff

 

 

There's So Much to Be Thankful For

Jeff—Saturday

Yes, I know there are some who disagree with that titled thought.  Some likely VEHEMENTLY.  To those sincere souls I say, “Go with what works for you, but I prefer my perspective.” 

Perhaps I’m feeling that way because I just returned from a week on our planet’s newest bit of real estate attending Iceland Noir, and for those of you who might be considering a visit to that magical land of myths and mythmakers (from Caro’s post yesterday, I’d say that includes our very own Glaswegian Queen of Mystery), I have a warning: Your spirit is about to be overwhelmed by the raw power of Iceland’s natural spartan beauty. 

This is my third visit in four years, and I’m hooked; so much so that when I stopped in Keflavik International Airport’s duty free shop to buy licorice to sustain me on the flight to New York, I instead bought a leather-bound volume of Icelandic poetry, and completely forgot about the licorice.

I love the place more each time I go.  Even the police are nice, as I learned when a taxi driver tried to rip me off, and when I didn’t give in to his demands, summoned the police in an effort to intimidate me, only to see them courteously agree with me and send him on his way.

The taxi driver meets his match

This trip was particularly special, not just because of all the old friends I got to spend time with, and new ones I made, but because my daughter and her family had tagged along. My son-in-law wrote a school report on Iceland when he was eleven, and this was his first chance to visit.  Even the relentless rain did not dampen our spirits (please tell me I didn’t actually write that last line). All that was missing from making this the perfect holiday were my straight A’s dynamic duo Texas grandchildren who couldn’t miss school for our frolic in Reykjavik and environs. Oh well, Bouchercon 2019 is in Dallas!

Yrsa's photobomber and mine, together again

I really was working

Here's where Iceland Noir took place

In the Idno

But enough about spiritual change…something so many in the West obsess about these days.  To quote the legendary Alfred E. Neuman, “What? Me worry?”  

Some say he couldn’t write those words today, but I say of course he could.  All he need do is visit Iceland, get out into the countryside, nibble on a bit of fermented shark, down a shot or two of Brennivin, and look in any direction at what nature has put in place and Icelanders work hard at preserving. 

Here are some more photos of what I’m talking about (the best ones were taken by Barbara Zilly, as usual):

Here's the story of Iceland's fermented shark delicacy

Here's were the fermentation drying step takes place

Here's what it looks like to taste it

And in conclusion, here's Iceland Noir's newest fan with the Queen of it all.

—Jeff

Iceland Noir Redux

Annamaria on Monday

They made me a Brit!

I had the delight of traveling with Barbara Zilly to and from Iceland for the fabulous Iceland Noir conference and of spending time with her while there.  Jeff was there too, which was perfectly lovely most of the time.

Zoe said it in words so beautifully yesterday.  I offer you a pictorial report.

The Town

 

Reykjavik 9:10 AM

The Conference

The British Ambassador spoke of his love of crime fiction

The Great Val McDermid, our most honoured participant

The ****ing Swearing Panel, heartstoppingly hilarious

The Tribal Celebratory Bits

Me, Val, Zoe--three crime-writing granddaughters of coal miners!

Exploring the Gorgeousness of Iceland

Bridge Between Continents, between the North
American and Eurasian tectonic plates

The end.  I am happy but in need of a contemplative lie-down.