Nik's Saga

This weekend was the third Viceroy Tourney in the UK - or Insulae Draconis, as it is known - and I am delighted to hear that my friend Mary is the new Vicereine. Hurrah!

And I missed it. Boo! It turns out that I also missed being awarded the Order of the Panache (I assume for doing creative things with needle and thread), which I'm quite delighted about. That's delighted about being awarded it, not delighted about missing the event.

Over here it's been very mundane day. I got up, did a bit of reading (Pratchet's Monstrous Regiment) and decided to tidy and rearrange my room. Prior to this it wasn't really set up for doing embroidery and I also had a tendancy to hit my head on the sloping wall when I sat on the bed. The new arrangement gives me better lighting for embroidery, more bed headroom and more space in the middle of the room to do Chi-Kung. Tonight I shall test out this new arrangement and try to embroider while I watch The Man With The Golden Gun.

In the meantime though, I am going to go and put dinner in the oven. Now that I have OXO granules (brought back from the UK) I am going to do a nice simple but heart beef stew with carrots, onions and potatoes. The sort that fills in all of the corners. Mmm... my mouth is watering already.

And a happy Samhain to everyone too.

Fortunately I am back in the house, having ventured outside to pay a visit to the local shopping arcade to brave the embroidery shop. Not that I actually needed anything - my excuse was that I promised Mum that I'd look for more Christmas stuff for her. I was even successful - so much so that I really don't want to send some of this stuff back to the UK for her.

One big advantage of living in Iceland, from the point of view of the embroiderer, is that the country is so small it's uneconomic to print lots of different embroidery magazines even though there's quite a large market for them. As a result, they import magazines from the UK (relatively boring), mainland Europe (particularly Denmark) and the US. Which means I now have access to all sorts of resources I just didn't have in the UK.

So I've come back from Ann Ey (the embroidery shop) with three books of Christmas designs (two by Zweigart and one from the US), a small redwork doily (it was in the reduced bin) and two tiny (4.5 by 3.5 cm) Permin kits of sailing ships (on 20 count aida - which isn't easy to come by even here).

Opposite Ann Ey is the patchwork shop. It has what must be thousands of different patterned cotton fabrics plus all of the other paraphenalia for making quilts and other patchwork stuff. Now I have to admit I've always been a bit scared of patchwork. It has always looked as if it will take far too long and be incredibly boring. I'm sure this isn't actually the case and sometime after Christmas I shall go in there and buy the makings of a quilt and get started. I think I want a bright and modern design rather than the more traditional ones, and I could be tempted to do the Arecibo message as the main design, but I'll have to think more deeply about that one.

Yes, I know I'm a geek. Only a geek would want, never mind do an Arecibo quilt. I do have the Arecibo message charted out as a bookmark design if anyone wants it...

The third Shop Of Wonder in the mall is a general chandlers. That's a hardware store to those of you of a non-nautical disposition. It's got all sorts of tools and other bits and pieces that I've only seen at grossly inflated prices in big B&Q-style shops over here before now. At last I have stick on hooks for the back of my door, coloured plastic things to stick on my keys so I know which is which and new electrical tape for sticking blunts onto the ends of rapiers. I restrained from buying jigsaws (the tabletop kind, not the woodcutting kind) as I'm still a bit uncomfortable about using the downstairs table. No-one else uses it, but the idea of actually leaving anything out that might interfere with the image of a pristine showhouse still makes me uncomfortable.

Ah, the snow has stopped. It hasn't stuck although, as I predicted yesterday, the roads are incredibly icy with the water that froze overnight. A good thing that I could cross the open grass of the park between here and the arcade.

I don't know, the weather yesterday inspired me to take the camera into work in order to capture some of the fantastic scenery and incredible light from the faculty common room and what happens? It's cloudy and you can barely tell the boundary between the mountains and the sky.

It's not likely to improve for the next few days either, as it's due to be warmer than it has been. For warmer, read cloudy. This warmth has another effect too - I was walking back from work today considering whether it was safe enough to get the car out to go shopping, when it occurred to me that even with a 4% expansion during the freezing process that there was an awful lot of water in all that snow and it had to go somewhere.

For the glaciers up the mountains, this is into the Glera, the river I have to cross on the way to and from work. Until today it's been an icy grey, but today it was a positively glacial brown. Seemingly glacial run-off is yellow-brown not grey-white. One of the side-effects of the river being part of the glacial drainage system is that it also gets a lot of silt carried along in the water. There's so much that it is actually open-cast mined in the pool about 20m upstream of the bridge I use. That's m as in metres, not miles. The bridge itself starts atop the dam that is on the site of the 1920 hydroelectric power plant and although that plant no longer exists I'm informed that the Hidden People still have one there. I'll explain more about the Hidden People in another post.

Seemingly it's not the snow that causes problems driving in Akureyri, it's the thaw. A normal thaw lasts several days and produces a lot of packed ice with a layer of liquid water on the top all over the road system. The roads become ice-rinks for a couple of days and the only way to move on them is to have studded tyres. These help in the snow too, of course, so around about now people start changing over to their winter tyres. I'm planning to go and buy a set on Monday.

In spite of the studs I'm not intending any more driving trips for a while, particularly down to Reykjavik. It's the Fokker 50 or the Fairchild Metro for me until well after Christmas, I think.

Strange Fact About Iceland Icelandic has over 400 words for the different colours of Icelandic horses.

I think I need something to keep me busy. I'm doing a lot of thinking and that, as Petal often says, isn't good for me.

So I've started on a sixteenth century coif. Well, perhaps started is a little too ambitious a word. I haven't actually started the stitching yet, but I have done the basic design and started the documentation in case I decide to enter it into an SCA A&S competition sometime in the future. Let's say that I am ready to mark out the fabric ready for stitching. This all came out of the trip to the V&A earlier in the month as I have to admit that some of the embroidery was quite impressive.

I'm actually stitching a tablemat for myself for use at feasts. The illuminated F in the Zweigart booklet I bought in the shop around the corner was just crying out to be turned into table linen, so I gave in while in London and bought the necessaries to start it while I was away. It shouldn't take too long, after which I'm onto heraldic goldwork for a book cover. And some other heraldic stuff.

Which should pretty much keep me going until Christmas, I think. Or hopefully, keep me going until Christmas without giving me too much time to think. So all I have to do now is arrange my room in such a way that I have light, TV, radio and DVD all appropriately laid out around my comfy chair so that I can tell the rest of the world to bugger off if I so wish.

I've just spent an enjoyable couple of hours rewatching one of my all-time favourite movies - the 1974 version of The Three Musketeers with Charlton Heston, Christopher Lee and, oh yes, Michael York. While I was watching it it suddenly occurred to me that 'good' - i.e. the musketeers - only won thanks to enthusiasm and sheer good luck. The only one of 'the good guys' who has more than two brain cells is Athos, and he's busy trying to drown them in wine.

This started me thinking - am I supporting the right side in these movies? Should I be cheering on the Cardinal's Guard because they represent the forces of intelligence? Which would explain why they get killed by the Musketeers so often; they spend too much time thinking and not enough time training, just like me.

Let's ignore the religious aspect for now. After all, that might be seen as just another way of keeping the peasants in line, and any source of political power is going to be used. Not, you understand, that I'm claiming that Richelieu was just out for power - I didn't do 'O' Level history, I was too busy doing physics instead - he probably did have religious beliefs too, but didn't let them stop him.

So we have Richelieu, trying to do his best for his country, keeping it running while a decadant nobility just wants to party. You have to admire the guy for that. He's just not the romantic hero, is he? Unlike the musketeers themselves, who are not only good-looking (particularly Aramis) but also deadly.

The rapier-wielding hero of one of the other formative productions of my childhood, The Flashing Blade, was on the side of the Cardinal, and was regularly helped in his task by the Cardinal's agents. So Richelieu gets to be a good guy after all.

This question has wider application. My all-time favourite film is Star Wars (the original version of episode IV where Han shoots first). Now if I was in that setting, I suspect I'd be a happy Imperial, working to support the Empire - the legitimate galactic government - a against these terrorists who want overthrow the correct order of things. Perhaps that just because I'm English. My accent is perfect for an Imperial.

Of course, I could just go for the basic gut reaction. The Imperials get very elegant and restrained uniforms, while the Cardinal's Guard wear red, an excellent colour in which to kit out your team. Maybe if I just replace that gold cross with a gold liver bird instead...

I thought that today I'd bring you a little of what's big news in a small country. Apart from the weather - and Icelanders seem to be as fixated upon it as we British are - anything that is worthy of gossip is worthy of news. Understandable when you have a population of under 300,000 people.

The really big thing is the teachers strike. The teachers have been on strike now for almost a month and, unlike British teachers who work to rule, the Icelandic teachers have actually stopped teaching. Only 150 children are being taught in schools across the country and another 65 disabled kids have just been refused exemptions from the strike allowing them to be taught as well. A local TV meteorologist has whipped up a storm by setting up an unofficial school teaching mainly maths during the strike. The problem is that he's not a qualified teacher, so while parents love it, the teachers don't and accuse him of undermining their industrial action.

More educational news - last Friday the University of Akureyri opened a big new extension to the university buildings, which will also house some local governement departments. It was all over the national news, film crews, interviews with the Rector (the equivalent of the Principal in a UK university), the lot. My office is room 319 in this building.

Iceland has no army, but it does have a Peace Corps who, for some reason unfathomed by most Icelanders, are currently guarding Kabul airport in Afganistan. This is important as three of them were recently injured in a suicide bombing.

And thinking of wars, remember the Cod War? British and Icelandic trawlers and fisheries protection vessels facing off to each other in the north Atlantic? Well there's a new war brewing, this time a Herring War with the Norwegians. It turns out that the Icelanders want to fish in some traditionally Norwegian fishing grounds that are within international waters. Discussions are ongoing, and no shots have been exchanged as yet, but watch this space for updates.

Finally the most important local news. The Icelandic ministry of health is considering a 50% increase in the tax on alcohol. Considering that a pint of beer in a bar is IKr 600 (almost exactly £5) and that tax is calculated by percentage point of alcohol content this has generated a sharp intake of breath from several of my colleagues when mentioned. When you arrive in Iceland there is a duty-free store in arrivals at Leifur Eiriksson airport at Keflavik, and it's recommended that you buy alcohol on the way into the country rather than once you get inside.

On a sadder note, black armbands on, everyone. John Peel (eternally of Radio 1, more recently of Radio 4) has died of a heart attack while on holiday in Peru. I don't actually listen to Radio 1, but I did like him on Radio 4 and pretty much everywhere else I came across him, particularly his long-running column in the Radio Times.

Parties in the afterlife will probably now have better music.

So I get up early to get to the airport in time to catch a flight to get me into the university in time to give a lecture and what happens? The lecture is moved to a room where I can't access the AV equipment. Ho hum.

Actually, I was quite impressed with the fact that I did arrive on time. It was a bit of a shock to arrive in Akureyri in the snow. It was a beautiful crisp clear morning in Reykjavik, but up here it's not only cloudy but snow-covered and, as of this moment in time, actually snowing. Seemingly I've missed the worst of it, as last Monday was day 1 of a three-day blizzard producing three-foot snowdrifts. We made tracks in the runway snow when we landed and I could see that the lake nearby was frozen over. It's visually quite impressive though - I'll have to try out my new camera. :)

They're very good at gritting the roads here - due to long years of practice, I imagine. Nevertheless I went to get my shopping on the way back from work and suspect that I'll walk into work for the next couple of days.

The plan for the rest of the evening is a) have something to eat; b) set up my iBook so that it will output DVDs to the TV and then c) be incredibly indulgent and do some embroidery while I watch a DVD (title as yet undecided).

No, I'm not joking. Stoke-on-Trent has a very impressive bypass. Fred and I drove through it earlier today and agreed that it was not only functional - it provides a rapid and relatively traffic-free route around Stoke that hides the surroundings - but it is also aesthetically pleasing. Faintly reminiscent of Persepolis, Fred decided.

We were on our way from the caravan to Stanstead, much to my disappointment. In many ways it has been uncomfortable going back to the UK, mainly because it reminded me of all the things I'm missing in Iceland. I suppose I'll get used to it in time, but at present it's quite distressing.

For the first time EVER I've been charged excess baggage on my fencing kit. £30 it's just cost me to get it onto the flight to Keflavik, on top of which the woman at reception wouldn't even tear the old label off my bag because she'd alread broken two nails today. May her nails and fingers both break! Actually, that bad of me to say that, but I'm not a happy bunny. On top of which most of the shops here haven't had the software upgrades to take my Maestro card (only John Lewis and the V&A seem to have had the upgrades). You'd have thought that an airport would have done it, wouldn't you?

Then I was stopped by customs in Keflavik. It wasn't a problem; they wanted to know my nationality (I blame the fedora for that) and as I didn't have any alcohol or tobacco - just cough mixture, throat sweets and chocolate as the UK ones taste nicer - it was a pure formality. The customs officer didn't even bother looking in my bags when she saw my passport.

In some ways I really wish I still lived in the UK - this travelling thing is getting to be a pain.

Iceland seemed to have decided it needed to win me back when I arrived, as when I walked out of the airport to the transfer bus there was an impressive column of green light in the sky ahead of me, shifting like a tranluscent curtain wrapped around itself in a cylinder. Unfortunately I didn't have time to test out my new camera's ability to photograph it.

I'm now recognised at the Youth Hostel. Well, given that it's become my standard overnight stop in Reykjavik it's only to be expected, I suppose. Tomorrow I have an early morning start to get the 08:45 flight up north, so I'm glad that this place is comfortable.

Today has been good; I've managed to relax at last. Fred arrived late morning (bearing turkish delight for Mum, which made her very happy), we had the classic cooked breakfast/brunch, Mum went home, we had a curry and watched the documentary on the Minoans and then K-PAX. An excellent caravan day.

Actually it was a bit more active than that. With Martin being off on a bellringing weekend I cooked breakfast and then, once Mum had left, Fred and I went down to the bookshop.
Carnforth bookshop is a wonderful place. It's not only a normal bookshop, but also a stationers, toy shop and gift shop. And then, upstairs, there's the second hand book shop bit, which is a wonderful place. I got away lightly, coming out with copies of Lords and Ladies (the one Pratchett I haven't actually read); Full Moon, a collection of photographs from the Apollo missions; and Ecclesiastical Embroidery by Beryl Dean.

Now that last one might sound a little out of place, but it's the text on Opus Anglicanum techniques (published in 1958). As well as techniques, it also has interesting sections on the historical use of Opus Anglicanum as well as specifics on making ecclesiastical vestments - not particularly useful, but quite interesting all the same.

Fred has also brought my new camera with him. New to me, that is, but a major step up from my little digital - about 2 million pixels up from my current one. It also has variable exposure times so I'll be able to take pictures of the aurorae. I hope. I've never been very good with cameras, but it has autofocus so I may have a chance with this one. Watch the photo gallery for further updates.

It's Friday, and Friday morning in Liverpool means Mum has an embroidery class to attend. It's one of the things she does at the community centre in Garston, and if I'm at home on a Friday morning I always tag along. It's a good excuse to get a couple of hours of uninterrupted embroidery in.

I've finally got the computers sorted, so I don't have to feel guilty about going to the caravan. Mum and I drove up through the normal horrendous traffic (over two hours rather than the normal hour) before indulging in a feast of sausage, chips and gravy from the chippy. I'm trying to cram lots of experiences into these couple of days, and chips and gravy was high on the list.

After that it was a case of finally getting some relaxation time in and doing some more embroidery. Mum is staying overnight and Fred is due to arrive in the morning. Maybe I can have a day of relaxation at last.

I knew Tucker Jenkins would turn out a bad one. That lovable rogue who was just too easily led astray by his friends.

I suspect that only readers of a Certain Age will understand that. I only watched the first series of Grange Hill - it didn't have enough ray guns, telepaths or ancient magics to keep me interested - but it was enough to remember Tucker Jenkins. And I think there was the other girl who also ended up in Eastenders.

But the reason for the opening comment is that the actor who played Tucker Jenkins nowadays plays Gabriel Kent in The Bill (my concession to soap operas - it has more car chases and explosions than Emmerdale or Coronation Street) and Gabriel has just killed Kerry, one of his colleagues.

All of this goes to show two things. First, I'm much more interested in characters than actors. No surprise there. Second, although I thought I was getting over missing UK TV I find that a couple of days exposire to it has made me relapse. I can live without The Bill, but I really miss all of the documentaries. The UK seems to have a wonderful set of them coming up this autumn and I'm missing them already.

You know those days that go up and down and up and down and up and down? Well I've had one of those days. I got up this morning, still tired and a bit run down, and decided that I no more wanted to face the computer than I wanted to eat a dozen oysters (I had a bad experience with oysters once). So I snoozed for most of the morning instead.

I woke up to the sound of Chairman Blair on News 24 telling me that the Black Watch would be home by Christmas. Now forgive my cynicism, but wasn't that promised at the beginning of the first world war? And didn't Bush say the same sort of thing last year then extend duty rotations so that more troops were there longer? I, like a lot of other people, see this as an election stunt. Let's cut the number of US bodybags just before the election by replacing them with British body bags instead. An utterly despicable but completely predictable move.

Still on the subject of politicians, I see that Mad Boris was here in Liverpool sort-of apologising for his words in the Spectator. Another PR stunt, becuase although he perhaps put things rather bluntly, the things he said were, on the whole, true. I watched Liverpool throughout the whole Jamie Bolger case and, while the crime was horrendous and the two boys responsible for it had to be severly punished, it was also horrendous to watch the mob mentality of the general public. It's one of those things that makes me realise that in many ways I'm not that concerned about leaving Liverpool. Just so long as I can keep getting the football scores, I'm happy. :)

After lunch Mum and I went shopping to pick up some of those essentials I can't get in Iceland - lemon/lime shower gel, oxo granules, douwe egberts coffee and cheap shoes. On the way we dropped into PC World, which was a bad thing... sort off, anyway, as although I picked up a new printer cartridge and we got a McAffee antivirus and antispam bundle, we also got all sorts of fun stuff for making greetings and business cards.

Then it was time to get back to grips with the computer again. I only did a seven hour stint today, rather than the twelve I was expecting (which is why I'm writing this at two thirty in the morning). McAffee identified the malware I'd discovered the previous evening, and quarantined the files. It couldn't remove them, so I had to do that manually, including a registry hack. I've done a lot of registry hacking today.

The problem wasn't quite that simple, as it turned out that there were six other assorted trojans, hijackers and key loggers to deal with, which explained why it had got so slow when connected to the Net. On the up side, I learned quite a lot about recognising and dealing with such beasts, what to look for in the registry and how to use HijackThis! Dad's machine is now clear and has all of its protective stuff set up. Tomorrow is the turn of Mum's machine, together with the rebuild of Kayte's laptop (hopefully) and the testing of the new XP laptop with Mum's mobile phone, although I can do some of that at the caravan on Friday night if necessary.
For now, though, I'm going to try to get some sleep at last.

So what have I done today? Spent over 12 hours in front of one PC or another installing or troubleshooting software. If I manage the same tomorrow - quite possible - I'll have managed to cram a full working week into three days. Of holiday.

Today has been Microsoft Office and Norton AntiVirus. Mum and Dad have machines that came with Microsoft XP. Dad doesn't want anything at all on his computer because the more that's on it, the more there is to go wrong. Mum wants everything on her computer, because the more that's on it, the more she can do.

One of the things she wants, but he doesn't, is Microsoft office. Mum wants it, reasonably enough, as she does a lot of word processing for the community council, the Wincham Preservation Society and her other interests. She needs to be compatible with the machines down in the community council office. Now we have a copy of Office 95, and a copy of Office 97. One of the challenges was installing this - the 97 disk is looking a little the worse for wear after 7 years and has become a bit cranky over the last couple of years. Old age is catching up with it. Still, I got it working in the end.

Dad doesn't want it on his machine. He's got Microsoft Works, that came with it, but even though the computer course he's done used Word, he's taken copious notes as to how Word works (down to the level of right click this, left click that, press this key) and his files are incompatible with the rest of the western world, he doesn't want Word because every file on the hard drive is a file that could destroy his machine.

What he does want, also reasonably enough, is Norton AntiVirus, and we do have a copy of Norton AntiVirus 2004 which was installed upon Mum's old machine, with a subscription that has six months left to run. Unfortunately she's lost the CD sleeve with the software key on it (believe me, untidiness is an inherited trait). So I spent rather a long time this afternoon trying to work around it (given that we morally have a right to those six months). In the process of web browsing I picked up a nasty case of malware that's redirecting my browser and generating extra pop-ups. I think it's likely to take me about four hours tomorrow (minumum) to deal with it.

Every time I come home 'on holiday' I spend most of my time fixing the various computers. What peeves me right now is that it's going to take me at least another day to get everything sorted. Which means that I'll be here to Friday, as Martin can't get the time off work on Thursday and Friday to come up to the caravan, so my couple of days at home and then a nice stress-free long weekend at the van has turned into a working week at home and a couple of days at the van. And I was really looking forward to some time to unwind. So much for that - I'm likely to be returning to Iceland more stressed than when I left.

One of my main tasks whenever I come home, is to fix whatever has gone wrong with the computers. It is a sad comment on the state of popular software that this is necessary, as Mum and Dad are neither fools nor luddites, deliberately trying to break the system.

This time the main focus of my attention is Mum's new Dell machine. It's rather yummy and I wouldn't mind having it myself, but of course it doesn't come with all of the necessary applications - like MS Office - installed. Nor is the email set up. Or the generic internet connection. And there's the stuff that needs to be transferred from the old machine to the new machine. Now I can do telephone support to talk Mum through the procedures, but it's much quicker for me to do it myself and also stops Mum from getting frustrated. And given the amount of time it's taking anyway, that's definitely a good thing.

Kayte stayed around until after dinner, taking advantage of being here to do a bit of shopping. She is currently my Favorite Person, as she recently had a rather good win on the bingo and has bought a new car (a little silver convertible ego trip) and presents for everyone as a result. Remember me drooling about the case of rapier and dagger from Darkwood Armouries? I'm ordering them later this week. :) Woo-hoo!

It seemed like a long way from London to Lyndhurst on Friday, but Southampton to Liverpool was longer still... mainly because I had to go back to London first.

Sunday morning is always relatively quiet at SCA events. Partly this is because people are preparing to go home and partly because they are recovering from the feast the night before. This seldom stops the fencers though, in spite of being the most fervent party animals the previous evening. Today was no exception, and Wenllyn and I decided to avoid the politics of the curia meeting (vaguely akin to an club AGM except that there's no voting and the club president can disregard the opinions of the membership if he wants to) and do a bit more fencing instead.

Eventually though even I had to give up and get changed ready to get the bus up to Liverpool. Dan very kindly gave me a lift to Southampton coach station where I missed the direct Liverpool bus by about 5 minutes, although I later discovered that there were no seats available on it anyway. The first section to London was much shorter than expected, which meant that I got onto the 16:00 coach rather than having to wait for the 18:30 one. There then followed a six hour journey punctuated by a small child throwing up in the seat behind me. I really am beginning to dislike this bus travel thing. But would trains be any better?

Mum and Kayte came to collect me at the station, as Kayte had come up from Nottingham to make sure that I hadn't turned into a newt while in Iceland. Which, of course, I haven't. Yet.

One of the problems with a limited luggage allowance is the restrictions it puts on garb. And bedding. Fortunately the site had lots of spare blankets, although even then it was quite a cold night last night. Never mind - standing in the cold watching the heavies would warm me up, right?

I did some of the field heraldry for the tourney itself, which was fine, and as I'd armoured up in my double-thickness linen shirt ready to fence later in the day I wasn't too chilly, although I was happy to get back indoors come lunchtime, by which time I'd also written a couple of new songs inspired by Valeria's copious songbook and Acarin's humerous comments.

After lunch was fencing time - hurrah! No tournament, but I did have a chance to fence with Wenllyn and with Antonio to work on my secondaries - cloak in particular. I've come to the conclusion that in Spanish secondaries are more like tertiaries. It'll be interesting to see what Maestro Martinez' DVDs have to say on the matter.

More voice usage next, as I did some court heraldry reading out the contents of scrolls. It's true - one of the advantages of being a court herald is that you get to see the looks on peoples' faces when they are called forward to accept awards. Of course you do have to remain on your feet all the time while everyone else gets to sit down... :) I was a little embarrassed because everyone seemed to like my voice. Right now my voice is not at its best thanks to Icelandic flu and disappeared almost entirely several times this evening due to an excess of singing, as it were.

But hey, once lubricated by several games of Tablero it managed to keep going well into the early hours at the normal Fencers' Conspicuous Consumption session. I'm now under orders to play En Garde! online - the reason being that only an En Garde! player would have used the term 'Conspicuous Consumption' in such a context. I shall investigate when I get back to Iceland.

I am a sad, uncultured scientist. I believe I now have proof. I visited the V&A and was disappointed by most of it.

I got up this morning, availed myself of the full English breakfast at the hostel (served in a refectory that overlooked St. Pancras station - what an architectural marvel!) then stored my kit down in the luggage room before checking out and heading down onto Oxford Street for a quick bit of shopping before my expedition to the V&A.

By the time I got to South Kensington tube station my left shoulder was killing me. I had to drop my small rucksack off it and carry it by the belt and right shoulder straps. This was probably due to lugging my fencing kit around yesterday - I can feel, as well as see the appeal of a wheelie-box and am going to have to do a bit of investigation on that one.

So I came out of the tube station and walked around towards the V&A. This was when I realised just what a sad geek I am. The Science Museum called to me. As did the Natural History and Geological Survey museums. I knew that in those buildings wers a difference engine, a lunar module, dinosaurs, interesting rocks, all sorts of interesting scientific treasures. Nevertheless I soldiered on to the V&A and was really very disappointed by most of it.

I was hoping for a shop that would sell tudor venetian glass goblets, embroidery kits of notable pieces in the collection, scholarly texts on the history of gothic architecture. Instead there was a lot of modern stuff I wouldn't give house room to. And many of you folks know how much stuff I am willing to add to my household inventory. I did, at least, manage to pick up a tudor spoon, a cut-price CD of gothic English music and a book on the Bayeux Tapestry with a complete set of images.

What saved the day though, was the third floor an its materials and techniques galleries. The ecclesiastic plate and silversmithing galleries were interesting enough, but then I finally found the textile collection. I think I could probably spend several profitable days in that room with camera, pencil and sketchbook. And that's just racks G and H.

I returned to the hostel to collect my luggage and got the bus to Victoria bus station. Which is not, I found to my cost, the same as Victoria coach station. It would have been OK if I'd just had the suitcase as it has wheels, but carrying the fencing kit was not pleasant. At one point there is a sign that directs you up a set of steps into a shopping arcade. Then directs you down the steps on the far side and diagonally across the road. All this when you can just walk straight past the arcade...

I just made it in time to buy a ticket and catch the 16:00hrs coach, due to arrive in Lyndhurst at 19:05. Unfortunately those timings didn't take into account a) the heavy traffic in London, b) the fatal road accident and its aftermath on the motorway, or c) the fact that the driver could only legally drive for four and a half hours before requiring a forty-five minute break (which we spent in Southampton, about half an hour from Lyndhurst).

Still, I got to the site in the end, and it was wonderful to see everyone again. I am determined to have a good weekend.

As I left Iceland this morning, Iceland did its 'too beautiful to believe' thing again. It was a bright northern morning, with clear blue skies and, although much of it had melted, there was still snow on the mountains behind the fjord. What was special about this morning was the stillness. It was calm with no wind to excite the surface of the fjord and, as a result, the mountains were perfectly reflected in the waters as I drove beside the fjord down to the airport.

The flight was an hour late, so I sat and drank coffee and ate skyr while I waited. It was the little 20-seater down to Reykjavik again and, as usual, the south west was cold and wet. Never mind - this time my paranoia demanded that I immediately get a taki out to the bus terminal, where I made it in plenty of time for the next bus and I got to Keflavik just before noon, as planned. My flight out wasn't until 15:00, but I checked in immediately (thank you, Paranoia) then met up with Matt and Rebecca for lunch - and to show off my new banner. They were appropriately impressed.

The Stanstead flight was uneventful, and two and a half hours later we touched down in England. I had this mad rush of joy at being back home again (quite odd, but not entirely unexpected after what I've read about moving country) and immediately bought real chocolate (Cadbury's) and mango/pineapple juice. Now I just had to get to London proper.

I decided to take the bus, as it was cheaper. It was also very popular, and I had to wait for the second bus as the first one was full. No matter, it was a pleasant English autumn night (even in London). The bus was supposed to go to Victoria Coach Station, but stopped somewhere between the bus station and the coach station, dumping me in the middle of London at 10pm with a pile of luggage and no idea where I was. Fortunately a taxi appeared shortly afterwards and, after I'd assured the driver I didn't want to go to Heathrow, I loaded everything into the traditional black cab for the ride back out to the St. Pancras Youth Hostel. The trip across London cost more than the coach from the airport.

So now my luggage and I are safely tucked away into a sixth-floor room in the middle of London and I don't think it's going to be long before I'm asleep.

I'm infectious, I'm sure of it. By the time I get off the plane at Stanstead I'm either going to be dead of whatever it is or I'll have infected everyone on the flight and will be coming out of the far side of it myself. So apologies in advance to anyone I infect with Viking Flu this weekend.

I woke up this morning, turned over and went back to sleep. I think it was the heaviness in my limbs that did it. I finally dragged myself into work at about noon (much to my housemates' surprise) to print out my songbook and the feast menu ready to go away to the UK tomorrow.

Then I went shopping. Well, I assume I went shopping, but I've no idea what else I did. I must have done something because it took over three hours. I did go to see the Red Cross people to ask them about first aid certificate equivalence first, but then I only went to the supermarket, the craft shop and the mall and suddenly it was five o'clock and I was trying not to throw up. Not that I'd actually eaten anything to throw up.

I got back here and fell asleep and suddenly it was 8 o'clock. Waah! I still hadn't packed! Fortunately I don't have too much to pack, although the 2kg of wool does take up quite a lot of space. Now the packing is almost done and I can thing about going to sleep again. This is probably a good idea as I have an 08:45 flight in the morning.

Yawn.... Good night everyone.

We've just had the first episode of Series 3 of Spooks - only a day after its debut on BBC1. You know that this means? It means I'm not going to miss next week's episode. Hurrah!

I was quite shocked at Tim McInnerny though - he's not aging well at all. I was also trying to work out who was playing Carmen Joyce, as I thought for a few minutes it was Jan Chappell (something in the eyes) and, after all, she might have aged poorly too. It wasn't, as I discovered at the website but (cue Spooky music) Jan Chappell is in a later episode. Not as a Filthy Mind Ripper though, I suspect. :) Although that would make an interesting premise for an episode - ex-Soviet or possibly ex-US psychic in the middle of something.

Even better, I managed to get the new banner completed before Spooks. With about half a second to spare, but who's counting? It's about 1.5m by 1.3m and rather more solid than the ones I've done before, mainly due to the change of material.

Other things today. I've had to change my travel plans for Crown Tourney - again. I'm flying down to Reykjavik first thing Thursday morning, rather than driving there tomorrow, as the weather is due to turn nasty again and Oxnadalheidi can get very nasty. I've also sorted out my UK travel, staying in London on Thursday night and getting most of Friday in London before the bus down to Bournemouth.

This is a Good Thing, as it means that at last I'll have a chance to visit the V&A. Before now, if I've been doing London museums it's been the British Museum (obviously and frequently), the Science/Natural History Museums and the Imperial War Museum. This time I'm going to do the human history thing... unless I get sidetracked by the Royal Greenwich Observatory, of course, which is always a possibility.

Oh yes - New Scientist arrived in the post today. Hurrah! It takes a couple of days in the post, but I don't care.

Owww! Sore shoulders! That's what you get for sitting crouched over a sewing machine doing applique.

I told Celeste that I'd make a banner for Klakavirki to take to Crown Tourney, as the one we have at present is quite small. Much more subtle that anything I make. :) So off I went to Rumfatalagerinn, the super-duper fabric and everything else shop and came back with five metres of red and white fabric. Not that I'm planning a banner quite that large, but I do have plans for the rest of the fabric.

And guess what? The fabric was actually cheaper than in the UK. Rather than getting 110cm wide polycotton (which I'd use in the UK) I got 140cm wide heavy cotton for the same price. The braid for the bottom was about a third of the price it is in the UK too. I'm amazed but, of course, not unhappy.

This is why I've been sitting over the sewing machine all evening. It's not my usual sewing machine, but rather my new old machine - a more powerful and versatile one than I used at home, but circa 1970 so it's quite big and heavy. It also shakes the desk a lot, aiding various things on the desk to a lower gravitational potential.

So far I've got the laurel wreath done, but as that's the bulk of the sewing I'm over half way there. Plenty of time to finish it tomorrow night. Now I'm going to unwind in my comfy chair with a tub of Ben&Jerry's ice cream. Mmmm....

Cable TV in Keflavik includes BBC1 and BBC2. I know this, as I spent a couple of wonderful hours embroidering and listening to it this morning.

I was alive and awake first this morning, so I worked out how to turn the telly on (no mean feat, given the number of boxes in your average home entertainment system nowadays) and went looking for some news in English. And there it was - Countryfile on BBC1. Never has the sound of John Craven's voice been so pleasant. :) I really look forward to getting satellite.

Rebecca and I then paid a visit to the Exchange on the base. I'm very impressed - not only does it have a money machine that provides both kronur and dollars, but it also has what is clearly the lowest priced shopping in the country. Of course, you can only use it if you are a base resident... :) Nevertheless, let's just say that I now have my frying pan (8.5 inches, teflon coated, little red thing in the middle to confirm that it's hot, under $12). I can now cook omelettes. Hurrah!

It was a long drive home though. After the first two hours I had to stop for a snooze. After the second two hours I had to stop for a drink and an ice cream. After the third two hours I finally got back home to find out that some kids had been throwing stones and Syed's window and managed to break the outside pane of the double glazing. It turns out that the age of criminal responsibility is 14, and if they're below that then the law says that they have no idea of what they're doing. It looks like it'll be an insurance job as it wasn't our fault.

So some things are the same as in the UK, it seems.

It was a late morning this morning - probably something to do with that 2am gaming session last night. :) never mind - enough time for some grapes before we had the local SCA goup meeting in the afternoon.

The kind gentles of Ealdomere had sent Celeste back to Iceland with a huge pile of garb as a gift to the stronghold of Klikavirki, so we spent some time sorting it and fitting it to appropriate people. There was some very good stuff in it too. We've reorganised the timetable to meet fortnightly rather than weekly and we have various classes planned for the near future.

The next big 'event' is going to be a feast at the end of November. It turns out that Tristan is really keen on cooking, as is Lisa, so we're going to take over the site we had for Revel and hold a proper multi-remove feast, probably something like the St. Andrews feasts. I'm also helping out with it, which should be fun.

Once all of the business was out of the way we settled down to an afternoon of games that gradually turned itself into a evening playing Talisman (3rd Edition). Somewere in the middle I did a Fencing 101 class and discovered that one of my students is a) left-handed and b) interested in Spanish. I'm working on how to persuade him to come to Rent-A-Don.

It finally turned into another 2am session with Celeste and I talking SCA, music, life, the universe and everything, and me doing my regular jobbing computer consultant thing. It was, I would say, a good evening. Even if I did do miserably at Talisman.

In places this country is insanely beautiful. It's like the Lake District on steroids. Just try not to be moved to tears while you're driving a car.

The drive from Akureyri to Keflavik takes about five and a half hours and is about 275 miles, roughly a third of the way around the country. You start in Eyjafjordur, the largest fjord in the country, then follow the river Oxna up through the mountains and through the pass into Skagafjordur. To the north on you on this road are six of Icelands smaller glaciers, tucked away amongs snow-capped mountains.

As I drove through the pass today it was bright and sunny, with yellow-green grass at road level, fading to brown rocky walls rising out of the valley into glittering white peaks. It's quite uplifting - maybe that's just the thin air up there, as it's quite high up. A wonderful place to drive at present, and probably even more impressive in a month's time, but I'm not sure I'd want to take my car over there by then. It's very open and liable to snow - this is the area that was highlighted on the Met Office website as difficult to cross in last week's blizzards.

Of course, the weather didn't last. It was, as appears to be the norm, grey, wet and windy towards Reykjavik and Keflavik. By the time I turned off the route 1 at Reykjavik onto route 41 for Kelfavik it was dark and blowing a gale. Now an interesting point about many Icelandic roads is that there is no lighting and the outside of the road is marked by posts with reflective bands rather than kerbs, barriers or the like. I was a little unsure which way I was turning once I got near to the airport and ended up doing a detour through a couple of coastal villages on an unlit road through the lava fields. It would probably look fantastic during the day, but at night it was a bit hair-raising.

And there there was the pothole. I found a marvellous pothole which turned out to be far deeper than it appeared in the limited light. My driving over it produced a very interesting and loud bump. Once I got to the base I discovered that this had resulted in a rather rapid deflation of my rear driver's side tyre. At least I got onto the base and to my destination before it gave out entirely.

But all of that was forgotten for a game of 'Would you rather?', a quite sick card game where you had to predict how the rest of the group would answer questions like 'Would you rather climb a 30 foot wall covered in thorns or fall 30 feet into a thorn patch?' Or 'Would you rather drink an ounce of footballer's armpit sweat or drink a gallon of hotdog water?' This kept us well-occupied until 2am. :)

I had a revelation last night. Skyr, the wonderful Icelandic yogurt I've been raving on about, isn't a yogurt at all; it's a cheese.

I was quite taken aback by this discovery. I'd been thinking about food and cookery after writing yesterday's thoughts on Egg Mess, when it occurred to me that if Skyr was a yogurt then I could use it in beef stroganoff. This led me to a search on the web for recipes fo skyr. What I wanted was recipies including skyr, but what I found were recipies for skyr.

Skyr, it seems, was brought here by the Norwegians during the settlement, and then died out back in mainland scandinavia. Here Iceland though, it flourished and became a national dish. Not only was skyr itself a staple of the national diet, but the whey produced in the making of skyr was also popular as a drink. Seemingly it tastes rather like dry white wine and can be used to replace wine in other recipies.

So, given that I've already expressed an interest in making cheese, I might have a try at making skyr as well. It's another one that needs a specific starter culture (normally provided by a few spoonsful of skyr) although it can be done with other cultures if you live in a non-skyr environment (i.e. anywhere outside Iceland).

It doesn't make a particularly good cheesecake, I'm told (of course all of my students were amused at the idea that we outlanders think that skyr is a yogurt), although I am getting a recipe for skyrcake, which is similar but softer. I shall try it out and report back.

I was very bad to my students today. I gave them a lab on assemby language. Not only was it assembly language, but it also required them to use UNIX and *gasp* vi.

For those of you who have no idea what this means, let me explain. If you want to write a text document on your computer, then you open up NotePad or SimpleText (depending upon your personal orientation), move the mouse, type in the text, maybe move the mouse again to select some text to change it, then use to mouse to click on the save button.

Not in UNIX. In UNIX you don't have a mouse, you do it all with the keyboard. So if you're going to create this file, there's no easy point and click to edit stuff, you have to learn the keyboard commands instead. Now vi is the UNIX equivalent of NotePad/SimpleText, and it's a very powerful text editor... if you know what you're doing with it. Knowing what you're doing means learning about 5 commands, but these all include things like the Esc key and the semicolon, as well as knowing whether you're in insert mode (adding text) or edit mode (moving around the document and changing text). For people who are used to a nice friendly windowed interface it's a bit of a culture shock.

On top of this, assemby language is not a simple subject in its own right. You may think that programming is an esoteric topic, but assembly language programming is something that most programmers consider esoteric. Nevertheless, it's something that computer science undergraduates really should be introduced to so that they appreciate how the computer actually works.

So there I was, running a two hour lab in a tough subject using less-than intuitive tools. Worse than that, I've told them that there will be a coursework based on assembly language, which is just plain evil of me.

Sometimes it's good to be bad.

I'm at a bit of a loss about what to write tonight. I've decided to make a daily entry to this blog in some way or another and, for the first time I'm not sure what to say.

You see, it's been a nondescript day. I went into work, I prepared a lab on assemby language for tomorrow, I drank a little coffee, I prepared the slides for a couple of lectures for next week, I came home from work, I went to choir, I came home and had Egg Mess for dinner then I came up here to write posts for a couple of email games and this. Nothing exciting has happened, so I'll tell you all about Egg Mess.

Egg Mess is a little bit like the mediaeval dish frose of ham, where you take cooked ham and stir it into beaten egg and cook as if it was scrambled egg. Except in this case I added ham, sweetcorn and cheese. So why do I call it Egg Mess? A good friend of mine (who I met on my first day at school) once decided to cook herself an omelette. Unfortunately she had no idea how to do this other than beat the egg and cook it in a frying pan. So far, so good. Then she stirred it. Not enough to turn it into scrambled egg, but enough that it no longer resembled an omelette. Ever since, a concoction of eggs and other stuff that is neither an omelette nor scrambled eggs has been known as Egg Mess.

Egg Mess is a wonderfully versatile dish - it can be made with fish, meat, vegetables, cheese... whatever you've got in the cupboard. It can be made in a small pan rather than a frying pan, hence minimising the washing up. I would, however, recommend a non-stick pan as, given the dish's relationship to scrambled eggs, it does tend to leave the pan in a bit of a mess.

It's been one of those days. I woke up this morning to what looked like a heavy frost but turned out to be a dusting of snow. Hurrah! It's snowed off and on all day, producing blizzard conditions in the high winds. Then I went into work to find that my office contained my computer, my boxes, and nothing else. No tables, no chair, no bookshelves even. It wasn't just me though - Mark and Syed didn't have furniture either, and they too were supposed to be getting new stuff. I could deal with that.

So I set my computer up on the floor, connected everything up and plugged in the network cable, but no network. I hadn't been patched in at the router, and it's one of those things that can only be done by trained personnel (who take a short piece of network cable and plug one end into the slot with the number for your office and the other into the next slot for the server). But eventually I got that done and I could see the world again. From my vantage point of being cross-legged on the floor.

Just after lunch the van arrived with the new furniture... but not mine. At this point I seized the initiative and snaffled a couple of chairs and a table from the lecture room so that I could get something done. Eventually some furniture did arrive, having been temporarily diverted from someone else's office. So I started to put it together, and the leg fell off one of the pieces.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother getting up in the morning. Then I remember that bills still have to be paid. And you have to have toys to make life bearable, so on the positive side I finally got around to ordering the two videos - yes, videos, not DVDs - from the Martinez Academy of Arms in New York on La Destreza, the spanish rapier style. If I'm going to have a long dark winter I should at least have some time to practice, particularly if we have more weather like today's blizzards.

Oh yes, and I got the photos from the Golden Circle tour online in the photo gallery.

Strange Fact About Iceland Iceland is home to under 300,000 people and over 400,000 horses.

I moved office today. Well, strictly speaking, I parcelled my few academic possessions into four boxes, then the undergrads took the boxes downstairs ready to be moved into the big van to move them across the campus to the new building.

In fact, I packed my stuff up and sat and watched the launch of SpaceShipOne then, after moving the computer to the new building, I discovered that I didn't yet have a desk to put it on. Or a network connection to finish watching the X-Prize attempt. Ah well, such is life. I'm told that I will have a new desk and everything tomorrow, and will be able to unpack then.

The best thing about this is that I've got an office of my own, shared only with my books and my radio. I will be decorating it with embroideries and space prints, and will have either Classic FM, Radio 4 or BBC 7 audible at all times. Depending on the direction I choose, I can look out onto either mountains or the fjord. I'm also right next to the fire escape, which is useful as although all rooms have fire exit windows, none of them have fire exit ladders once you've got out. I feel that that's quite important, given that we're on the second floor and there's a nice concrete pavement down below.

At present we're still teaching in the other building, which means getting cold and wet on the trip between K-Hus and the as-yet-unnamed new building. I'm told that that it's likely that the present weather - cold, very wet and very windy - will continue until the snow in December. I don't mind it at all. It's great at night, as I can hear the wind howl in off the fjord and the rain batter down on my bedroom roof. Just like at the caravan.

And thinking of the caravan, I'm firming up my plans for coming back to the UK the week after next. After the travel fiasco this weekend, caused partly by my desire not to mess my students about too much, I have decided to drive down to Reykjavik and stay overnight both on the way and the way back. Seemingly the students expect to be messed about - it's The Way Things Are Done here in Iceland. Who am I to contravene cultural norms? :) I've also managed to change the date on my flight back tomorrow (which I don't need) to January, so I only have to book a flight on the way out come Christmas.

So now I can look forward to Crown Tourney and a weekend at the caravan. I'm not sure that I'll make it up to Scotland that week, as I really need to unwind on my own for a few days. Doug and Syed are really nice guys, but I've lived alone for so long that I have real problems relaxing and really being myself with anyone around. Except at SCA events, but there I'm surrounded by people who are just as crazy as I am. And there's normally copious amounts of alcohol involved, which helps. :)

Strange Fact About Iceland: In Iceland, mint chocolate chip ice-cream is bright blue.

Remember I said that I was going to get the bus back up north on Sunday? That a six-hour bus journey was bound to be cheaper than a forty minute flight? Forget it! The cost exactly the same price. :(

This morning started off fairly well - I checked out of the hostel, went into the city centre, had a civilised coffee and muffin in a cafe-cum-art-gallery, dropped into the weekend flea market, then went up to get the bus back to Akureyri.

To start with, the bus cost Kr5,900, roughtly £50, exactly the same as the normal internet offer for the local flight. Then I was found by this strange Englishman who's come over to Iceland for a couple of days until his latest bond matures, after which he's going back to give up his council bedsit in London for a council 1-bedroom house in Reykjavik. And he's not an alcoholic, he's alcohol dependent. Right... so why do I seem to attract the loonies? All I was doing was sitting there winding up my mobile phone so I could phone Doug and Syed to warn them I'd be home two days early. All I wanted to do was to be left in peace to carry on reading my copy of Scientific American.

Then I did six hours on a bus - with the occasional 10 minute stop at a petrol station/coffee shop to take onboard or to drop off other passengers - before reaching home. To top it all off, I'd driven to the airport on Thursday, where I'd left my car ready to collect on Tuesday. The bus comes into the bus station, which is nowhere near either the airport or the house, so I had to ask Doug to come out and ferry me from the bus to the car (which he did, nice chap that he is).

So I'm finally back at home, having had a very mixed weekend which wasn't at all what I'd planned, I'll be back in the office tomorrow two days earlier than planned and just in time to move building. Oh joy.

After a day a little hard on the feet I thought that I'd take it a bit easier today and do a bus tour. The hostel has a wonderful system which allows you to book through them and they you are collected from the hostel about half an hour before the tour start.

I was a little undecided about which tour to go for, but opted eventually for the Golden Circle tour of Thingvellir, Gulafoss and Geysir. We started off in the mountains to the east of Reykjavik, in a high temperature zone that provides the main geothermal power for the capital. 'High temperature' means that the groundwater is over 200 degrees C at 1km depth, and is too hot to be pumped directly into the city's heating system (they use the 'low temperature' water for that). The zone itself is part of the active zone of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, full of volcanos and overdue for another major erruption as there hasn't been once since 2000.

The main site of interest within the active zone is Thingvellir, the home of the Althingi, the original Icelandic parliament. Tectonic activity has changed the place somewhat since the arrival of the original settlers, but it is still considered the heart and soul of the Icelandic nation. It was here that the settlers would gather once a year to discuss matters of great import and to hear the Lawspeaker pronounce upon these matters. It was here that the decision for the nation to convert to Christianity was made (I've been doing a lot of this Icelandic history thing over the last couple of days). The area is actually within a rift that's part of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, which is why the landscape has changed so much. Lots of geology - I liked that.

More geology - sort of - next. The next stop was Gullfoss, the Golden Fall. This is the largest waterfall in Europe (in terms of volume of water, not drop) and is fed by the Langjokull glacier to the north and east. It has two drops, a broad drop of 11m and a narrower drop of 21m into a ravine. It's called the Golden Fall because the water is glacial rather than fresh water, and has a yellow tinge to it. The river though, is the Hvita, or White River. I thought that the colour spoiled it a bit, to be honest, and preferred the clarity of Godafoss, but that's just me, I suspect. Up at the top of the falls is a souvenir shop and resteraunt that sells a wonderful Icelandic lamb and vegetable soup - well worth it. The highlight of this stop though, was the views of Langjokull and a couple of the other local glaciers. It really does look like a river of ice. I must get closer up to one sometime soon.

The next stop did impress me though. Geysir, the original fow which all geysers are named, is currently quiet, only errupting twice a day (it needs a good earthquake to wake it up again). It is one of a number of geysers in another high temperature area. The most active geyser in the area is Strokkur, which errupts approximately every 8 minutes. there are also a number of fumaroles and mud pots in the area and, of course, the now-familiar smell of hydrogen sulphide. One disadvantage of taking a tour is that I didn't have time to explore the big multimedia exhibition. Ah well, a good excuse to come back on my own later. As if I needed one.

We were supposed to stop at the cathedral at Storholt, one of the two ancient bishoprics of Iceland, but unfortunately there was a praticularly large funeral going on at the time. Instead we went to see a rather nice near-circular collapse caldera, where a volcano has errupted then the rock within the basin of th volcano has collapsed down into the magma chamber. Some time later, the local water level has risen producing the classic James Bond circular volcano with lake formation. Unfortunately I didn't have time to look for a supervillain's hideout underneath.

Finally we visited Eden, a greenhouse and garden center complex where I finally got to see, with my own eyes, bananas groming up, rather than hanging down. Not only that, I have the photographic evidence. Eden has, as well as a pair of very nice carved main door (Adam and Eve, naturally) the best postcard selection in Iceland. It also sells non-milk-based ice cream which tasted pretty good in spite of the lack of cream.

It was an interesting day, and I've got lots of interesting photos, but I think I'd still rather have been at a feast.

So I fell asleep last night feeling miserable and woke up this morning still feeling miserable. Nevertheless I made a go of the day.

Reykjavik has a very good, if expensive, bus system and a handy-dandy tourist card that allows you free entry to a whole host of tourist attractions and free use of the buses fo 24 hours. Catch six buses during the day and you've made a profit. Catch three buses and visit one of the galleries or museums and you're also ahead.

I started off by going in search of the Icelandic Hand Knitters' Association shop in central Reykjavik. Actually, I started off in precisely the opposite direction, but was drawn into a big touristy shop with interesting ceramics. I didn't buy any ceramics, but I did come out with a book of Icelandic folk tales and another one on the bird life of Iceland. Then it was up the hill towards the main shopping street.

Something I ought to point out here. As I was originally planning to fly to London, get on a train to Liverpool and travel by car elsewhere, I only had my big blue wrap with me. It's big, it's blue, it wraps me quite effectively, but it does get very heavy when wet. And boy, did it get wet. It chucked it down all day and I felt like a drowned rat by the end of it. But that's getting ahead of myself. The walk to the wool shop took me past several other dangerous shops. Two big craft shops, for instance, practically next door to each other. Naturally I had to buy stuff. At the wool shop I was originally intending to get some normal, straightforward wool for Sagadis - until I discovered that they also sold unspun wool in both natural and dyed colours, so I picked up a couple of kilos of that for her instead. And then there were the rather useful sheepskin slippers - black, viking period design, ideal for indoor use at events. Had to get them.

By now I was too wet to continue so I found a cafe to drink coffee, eat a chocolate muffin and dry out. Once I was a bit more energetic and a bit less wet I headed for the bus to go out to the National Museum of Iceland, which is up near the University of Iceland. On the way to the bus stop I discovered I was about to walk past a large-size clothes shop so it would have been rude not to go in and investigate. What a difference to Evans! The clothes in this shop were really rather stylish, so I bought myself a knee-length knitted lace cardigan for use at work. I also realised, once I got onto the bus, that I was just around the corner from the games shop. Fortunate, that, as Matt and Rebecca took me there when I was down for Revel and it's horribly overpriced even compared to games shops in the UK.

Next stop the museum. Drool... The museum is conveniently split into two sections - Period and Post-Period. For those of you who don't speak SCA this means pre- and post-1600. I only did the pre-1600 section this time, as I only had four hours. This section starts with the settlement of Iceland in 840 and hence has a lot of very good viking stuff. I hadn't realised that the tortoise brooches were quite so large... or so ugly, in many cases. All really useful for SCA purposes.

There was also a lot of stuff on Iceland's conversion to Christianity and the Reformation in the sixteenth century. Now, to be honest, the Christianity thing doesn't do anything for me... with one small exception. There was rather a lot of Opus Anglicanum, all on clerical vestments of course, but I'll forgive it that for the sheer quality of the work. Hidden away in a drawer to prevent it from fading is the most fantastic and delicate piece of goldwork - metallic gold thread on red silk - dating from approximately 1200AD. Yes, this piece (a group of five items, actually) is eight hundred years old and is a beautiful piece of work. It's one of those pieces you look at and think 'I wish I'd done that'. I managed not to leave a big puddle of drool in front of the display but it was hard going.

After that I needed more chocolate, so I had coffee and a large piece of chocolate cake in the museum cafe just before it closed, admiring the hnefetafl set I'd just bought in the museum shop.

By now I was carrying an unreasonable number of shopping bags so I returned to the hostel to drop stuff off before heading out again to Kringlan, the big shopping arcade outside the city centre. I was on a mission to get Kayte a Hard Rock Cafe World Tour diamante t-shirt at the Hard Rock Cafe in Reykjavik. Unfortunately they didn't have any, so I had to get her a normal HRC Reykjavik t-shirt instead. In the process though I did have dinner - with an Appletini cocktail - so it wasn't a complete failure. I must say though, I think that the HRC is perhaps a little over-rated. It's like Ziggy's in St. Andrews, but much bigger and much more expensive. The more-than-life-size statue of Leifur Eirikson, axe in hand, guitar on back, is rather amusing though.

That's it for today. It was a little strange walking back from Kringlan to the bus stop (it's a bit of a way as everything in Reykjavik is quite spread out). It was almost 10pm, completely dark, and I felt totally safe. There's no way I'd do that in Aberdeen, let alone Liverpool. All of that walking has tired me out though, so I should get a good night's sleep tonight.