A midnight bonfire (and a short catchup)
I've been in Iceland for four weeks now (which seems impossible), but haven't blogged my daily adventures, like I have done over the last few months. Most days would go something like "I woke up, faffed around in my studio for six hours, collected objects from the beach, watched an episode of The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau and went to bed." It wouldn't make the most riveting of journals, but that doesn't mean it isn't magical.
I'm currently living in the north of Iceland, in a small town on a pointy peninsula. We're hit daily by intense, buffeting winds coming from the arctic, and our studio plays host to some local stray cats (we've semi-adopted one). Everybody in the town knows everybody else. There's a primary school, a space-age-looking church, a thriving fishing industry, a mountain, a museum of fortune telling and a small pool. I had my fortune told by the local prophetess the day I arrived, and she had (mostly) good things to say.
On days when it's especially windy, the local children are instructed to crawl home so that they're not blown away by the strong winds. This is a real thing. The main street - where most houses and the school are located - is only about 1km long, but I don't envy those who have to crawl their entire way home.
While things had been quiet, I had been busily working away, and put this blog on the backburner. This morning I woke early, reading to explore the magical photos we'd taken of puffins in Vik, Skogarfoss, Skaftafell... and my SD card had completely crashed.
I'd backed up some pictures, but nothing taken after we were in the Cairngorms in Scotland. My stomach dropped. I felt ill. I fretted and fretted and frantically messaged Nicholas (who is now back in Melbourne working away and building things for the Christmas season) who thinks he might be able to restore them with a computer program. Let this be a lesson in backing up your files. Regularly. (In the meantime, you can see some of our Icelandic adventures here, here, here and here)
On a more pleasant note, we had a bonfire two nights ago, after listening to our town choir. Many artists are leaving this month, so we set off down the beach, lugging pieces of driftwood with us, and sat around the fire drinking until late. We wrapped some potatoes in aluminium foil, drank so many beers we almost forgot about them, then forced down some potato-shaped pieces of charcoal.
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