Day 152: Christmas in Iceland & yes, I'm still alive

So, Christmas in Iceland...

On December 23rd we traditionally went out to eat fish. Since Ingveldur understandably didn't want to cook the fish himself, the three of us went to the restaurant near the gas station in town. As soon as I entered I could hardly breathe because the smell was so strong and acrid. There was a buffet set up against the wall and after paying “entrance,” we grabbed plates and got in line. Ingveldur immediately pointed to a pizza warmer and said that I should just get the pizza and then try it on her. I've never been so grateful for pizza. A while ago I tried shark itself and it tasted really disgusting, but this? The fish tasted just like it smelled. Just the half hour that we sat there and ate felt like my nose was being eaten away. Nevertheless, all 20-25 tables were occupied until the last seat. I really don't understand how anyone can do this voluntarily. But I also heard some families speaking in German and other languages too.

After we went shopping, we took a shower at home because the smell had settled not only in all of our clothes but also in our hair.

December 24th started off quite relaxed. Everyone slept in, so I wasn't the only one having breakfast shortly after eleven. Then it was time to clean the huts. It is interesting. There have been almost no tourists here for the last two months and we were almost fully booked again over the holidays.

In the afternoon we started cooking, although I didn't help much because two of the sons and their friends were already helping and the kitchen became too full at some point.

In the evening we had dinner around seven - really delicious food. There was roast with potatoes and mushroom sauce. There were apple pieces in something like whipped cream, which was absolutely delicious, and sweet potato mash with almonds and caramelized sugar on top, which in my opinion should have been more of a dessert option. For dessert there was homemade ice cream - something like Snickers or Mars or something like that - and something like frozen whipped cream with nuts and caramel sauce.

After clearing and tidying up, it was time for the presents. I think we opened presents for a total of half an hour and I had already thought about whether I would get any presents at all this year or not, but in the end I even received two presents - from a friend of one of the Polish sons Cookies (she comes from Poland) and a tea cup from Ingveldur and Stani because they have often made fun of me (no offense intended, of course) about the fact that I drink so much tea. Afterwards we sat in the living room and the other son's friend had prepared a little Christmas quiz. I was able to answer some questions, but most of the questions were about films or songs that I didn't know. And although everyone obviously made an effort to speak some English, most of it was in Icelandic. On the one hand, of course, I completely understand that people tend to talk to each other in their native language and so on, but I still felt kind of stupid because I didn't understand anything most of the time and therefore couldn't have a say. The dogs joined me because it gave me enough time to pet them.

Sometime around eleven o'clock I got up and went to my room. On the one hand because I was really tired and the whole evening had drained me, but on the other hand because I was pretty homesick. Maybe it was just because I was pretty exhausted, or because it was my first Christmas without my family, or because everyone else was here with their families and I unintentionally felt left out somehow because of the language. It was probably all together. I spontaneously decided to call my parents before I went to sleep.

December 25th went back to normal except for dinner. For dinner, Julia (one of the sons' girlfriends - and yes, we have the same name), who comes from Poland, had prepared a Polish Christmas dinner. There was something that reminded me a lot of homemade Maultaschen, with basically pasta salad, but instead of pasta it was potatoes and a few other things that I can't even really describe. It was delicious, but I don't need it again.

Before more people ask, I'll write it here again for everyone: Yes, I'm fine. No, our farm is not affected by the volcano as we live around three hours' drive from the eruption. No, apart from a mini-earthquake that was barely felt, we didn't notice anything here. Even though I would have liked to take photos, it was still too unsafe at the beginning because we didn't know exactly where it was safe for tourists to go cross-country skiing and the eruption is now over again. Fortunately, no major damage was caused.

I also had a little adventure on December 14th. Ingveldur and Stani were in Reykjavik for two days and I wanted to use the time to get the Christmas present ready for them both. I had crocheted a bag myself in the days before and there was still some sweets that I wanted to fill the bag with. So I drove to the village to buy the sweets and orange juice for punch. The journey there wasn't a problem and I got everything at the supermarket.

But when I got into the car to drive back, something was strange. The right front wheel was somehow dragging and the steering wheel couldn't be turned properly the entire time. Since I was almost out of the supermarket parking lot, I drove next door to the bank parking lot. The right front tire was somehow completely warped and no longer stood straight. First I spoke to a man in the supermarket parking lot and asked if he could help me, but he said he didn't know anything about cars and that I should ask inside, i.e. in the supermarket. There I found a man who came with me to the car and apparently knows the family here - they all know each other here anyway. The man didn't really know what to do, but he said that there was no way I could drive home in this car that evening.

Of course, I was totally exhausted until I remembered that Isabella, the daughter my age who still lives on the farm, was working at the gas station less than five minutes away at the time. She then looked at the car again, but couldn't do anything. Since her shift didn't end until 9 p.m. and it was only half past six, she put me in the back of the gas station - a kind of event room - and I sat there for three and a half hours with my best friend and my parents called and killed time. I even got a free pizza from Isabella every now and then.

In the end we were back at the farm at half past nine and I had to recover from the shock. Stani said that the axle of the wheel had broken, but that this had happened several times and with all cars, simply because the road to the farm was so bad and full of potholes. In the end, I was luckier that evening than I initially realized. Who knows what would have happened if the axle had broken in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere or at full speed, or what would have happened if Isabella wasn't working. The car has now been repaired, but since the roads here are completely icy due to the low temperatures and the weather isn't necessarily the best at the moment, I'd rather stay on the farm at the moment.

See you then

Julia