Yikes! Another blaze last night. This time right in our little nothing-ever-happens-here neighbourhood, which is rapidly turning into Everything Happens Here Neighbourhood (witness blog a few days ago about the cops ‘n robbers action outside my window). It was in the local supermarket, Nóatún, which has been having its share of hard luck lately. First, some poor dude has a heart attack at the steering wheel of his car and ploughs right through the big glass window and into the store. Very sad because the poor guy died later. Then, the power goes off during the night so all their frozen and chilled stuff thaws out and has to be carted to the dump. And last night, the place caught on fire! Every single thing in the store – destroyed! And this is a reasonably-sized supermarket – not as huge as some of those gargantuan American ones that you get sucked into and can’t find your way out for days – but, reasonable. By Icelandic standards.
Now if I were really mean-spirited and cruel I could say that it serves them right because they’re a ripoff. Their fruit and vegetables are almost always in various stages of decay (eeky mouldy asparagus the other day, mandarins you pick up and put your thumb right through them – you get the picture) and still they get away with charging you and arm and a leg for them. Plus they try to pull devious little stunts like program the prices into the cash registers to be higher than what the shelf price says. Or maybe they’re just inane and can’t get their shit together enough to do the price thing properly. Whatever. I don’t like them. I get bad vibes when I go in there. So quite frankly I’m not surprised they’ve had fire and brimstone raining down upon their heads!
But then I’m not that mean-spirited. And not that cruel, either, although I have been known to laugh at other people’s misfortunes if they’re really funny.
THE CURSE OF ICELAND
Speaking of bad luck, one of the Fréttablaðið columnists today reflects on the strange incidence of International Stars getting seriously ill after leaving Iceland (or in the instance of the Beach Boys guitarist arriving here just after a heart operation. He played the gig, apparently, but just didn’t move around much on the stage. Which would have been pretty funny, I reckon. But I digress…) Take Marianne Faithfull, f’rinstance. She played here at the beginning of November, only to head for Italy where she collapsed from exhaustion and had to subsequently cancel three months of touring. And the Godfather of Soul himself, James Brown, played a gig in Reykjavík in August, and now he’s just been diagnosed with cancer of the prostate.
Coincidence? Or is it just that Iceland has been attracting Stars that are, um, past their prime shall we say?
Ok, enough stupid rants for one night.
Today was yet another beautiful winter day with clear skies and sunshine, temps around the freezing mark. Tomorrow it’s another story: we’re in for stormy weather with rain and rising temperatures. Whoever named this place Iceland must have had a good laugh. Sunrise: 11.10; sunset 15.32.
Our closest grocery store has fruit and vegetables like the ones you described…where you pick something up and then go “Eyyeeeeuuuugh!” and drop it because it’s rotten. Needless to say, we never go there, even though it has the best name of all time: “Lord’s Super Galaxy.”
Eeww! I don’t know how these guys get away with being so popular, I really don’t. I too try to avoid shopping there wherever I can.