I am going back, aftur, to Iceland (it's a good word, because it both means 'back' and 'again'). Until last week I had no idea about it. Iceland caught me, when I least expected it. It'll be just a small detour from my trip from Norway southwards: instead of hitching Jutland down to the Netherlands, I will turn to Esbjerg and take my beloved Norrøna to Seyðisfjörður. This time, hitching backwards to Reykjavík along the North Coast. One day to Akureyri, and another day to Reykjavík. It's the best decision, because I was planning to go to the Netherlands 3 times before the end of the summer, but two is actually enough - once for my favourite summer course in Leiden at the end of July, straight after Slovakia; and once, for good, when I will move there at the end of August after the Hitchhiking Festival and the manuscript course in Copenhagen. The perfect plan has formed itself, without even the need of thinking too much about it (which I did already, though).I know this will break my heart, though. There are just a few people left there of the many that made last year the most awesome year of all. It's not the same place, Hljómalind is a fucking fashion store, and even those who are still there are planning to leave. I have the impending feeling that during those two weeks I will dramatically realize that the time of me in Iceland belongs once for all to the happy bygone days. But how can I resist the need to go and bid it farewell personally?
This is today's picture of Voss, my immaculate snow sepulchre. And today I finished one of the best books I've ever read, One Moonlit Night by Welsh poet Caradog Pritchard (original title Un Nos Ola Leuad). I wish I could read more books like this. It almost made me cry, which is not common for a book. Tells the story of the journey of a boy into the grown-ups' world, taking place between the two world wars. Childhood friends leaving or dying, a mother that suddenly becomes mentally ill. So much poetry, inundating the page through the lyrical but simple words of a 10-years old. I only wish I could have read it in the original Welsh...
See original: 
