Searched For donut

This didn’t deserve its own post: Iceland Edition

June 6, 2016 2 Comments read Attractions, Iceland, Masticating With Mellzah, Travel

When I take a trip somewhere, if I don’t do a day-by-day recounting, there’s usually a bunch of tidbits left over that I either couldn’t write more than a few sentences about or don’t have any photos for or would drag out the series far beyond what any human could be expected to tolerate. All combined, however, they make for something a little more substantial, so here’s yet another one, this time about Iceland.

For my stay in Reykjavik, I was booked at the Best Western. I don’t have any particular distaste for the Best Western chain in general–they’re serviceable if not particularly fancy, the sort of place that you maybe wouldn’t be too surprised to see duct tape patching a hole in the carpet. Frankly, I don’t need for my hotel room to be fancy, it’s the place that I crash out for a few hours in between doing more exciting things, unless I get sick and end up spending much more time there than anticipated. Free WiFi is nice, free breakfast is another good perk (even if I rarely avail myself of the option). This Best Western changed my opinion about Best Westerns. I wish they were ALL like this one. For one, the room was super nice. For two, the tub was super nice. For three, free breakfast is a wonderful thing when food is as expensive as it is in Iceland. For four, their toilet flushed with the force of a spectacular waterfall. For five, they have a kind of duvet I’ve never seen before, one that has the power to save marriages all over the world: split down the middle so no one needs to stab a covers hog in the middle of the night.

The one area in which I was a little disappointed was Icelandic TV. I don’t know if my hotel had awful reception or what, but I am very much not into the club scene (as I am old, uncool, and disinclined to pay for bottle service) so if I wanted to veg a bit after everything closes at night (earlier than I would have expected), my options were limited. The news channel was frozen on that same frame for my entire visit.

One morning, I got a bug up my butt about going to see the sun voyager sculpture at dawn. I either severely overestimated the distance or underestimated my walking speed and how much I would hustle in the cold, because I got there a good thirty to forty minutes before sunrise. It was so cold, with strong winds whipping icy water up out of the harbor to sting our faces. I spent a good portion of that time huddling in a bus shelter, skittering out whenever I saw something that might be a bus coming so I wouldn’t inconvenience a driver by making him stop when he didn’t have to. A few other people with cameras showed up just before dawn. We were all red-cheeked and hopeful for a spectacular sunrise. What we got was not the most spectacular one in the history of time (too much cloud cover that seemed like it was moving out of the way but didn’t), but it was pretty damn good, and worth the effort.

Afterward, we made our way to the Harpa Concert hall to check it out and escape the cold a bit while waiting for businesses to start opening.

I don’t know if this is the case everywhere in Iceland, but all of the public restrooms I used were stellar. Super private stalls, impeccably clean, all with those magnificent waterfall toilets, very unlike, say, the terrifying and filthy half-door stalls at Pike Place Market where you can make shame-filled eye contact with someone outside the stall while wiping, which I would only use if my death by exploding bladder was imminent and even then I would think twice.

I like that construction at the harbor is so permanent that they’ve put it on their maps.

I have mentioned before that food is really, really expensive in Iceland. One night, sans reservations, we wedged our way in at the bar at Public House. Our meal started off with a shot and a beer, and then we each got a selection of small plates, four each. I got something called the “taste of iceland”, and the two courses I remember were a tiny licorice puffin salad and some lamb stuffed inside a doughnut, the former which was a little weird even for a licorice lover like myself and the later being quite delicious. We both walked out still hungry, and our bill was over $230 USD. Oh, but that wasn’t all. While we were at the bar, a local came in, complaining of the cold, and grabbed each of our hands to show how cold she was. I, thinking this was an opportunity to connect, offered her my already-warmed hot hands packet in addition to a fresh unopened packet to use later, which she was very, very excited about, showing them off to everyone who worked at the restaurant. So far so good, right? Then she started in on a seriously intense speech about how people in Iceland are going to the harbor and killing themselves, repeating to us over and over again “Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.” It was deeply unsettling and I can still hear her voice in my head when I think about it. I’m trying not to think about it.

Baejarins beztu pylsur, on the other hand, is refreshingly cheap, and apparently the must-try Iceland place. It’s a hot dog stand that’s been open since the 1930s, and pretty much everyone stops there to eat eina með öllu (one with everything: ketchup, mustard, remoulade, raw onions, and crunchy fried onions). The lamb-based hot dog is delicious, and all that onion makes your breath truly remarkable for the better part of the afternoon. Frankly I don’t care what the hot dogs are actually made of to make them so inexpensive, whether it’s ground up rats with wooly lamb coats or what, I was just thrilled not to spend $60+ on a meal (another reason I loaded up at free breakfast every morning).

I’m not sure what Texas-style pizza is but I do wish I had stopped in to find out. Then again, maybe not as their food is decribed as “intestinal terrorism”.

Because I am a mature adult, I spent some time singing “a few times I’ve been around that track/ so it’s not just gonna happen like that/ because I ain’t no hlölla bátar / I ain’t no hlölla bátar“

If they don’t give you a gun with which to shoot your selection on the menu, I don’t even know what to say.

At the hotel, I saw an advertisement for a fish spa, the establishment where a bunch of hungry fish eat all of the gross dead skin off of your feet. This was something I’ve been keen to try for a while, and it’s been banned in the US (as there’s no way to sterilize the fish) so this was my first opportunity and I’d be damned if I was going to pass it up. While it’s true you can’t sterilize the fish, they do have you clean your feet well before you plop them in a tank, washing them and then squeezing on some kind of antiseptic. It wasn’t the super ticklish sensation I expected, more of a pins-and-needles type feeling, except when they squeezed between my toes to get at some particularly tasty foot crud–that was ticklish. My feet were baby soft afterward though that probably has a lot more to do with soaking them in water for an hour and then layering on some thick lotion than the fish themselves. I wouldn’t say that where the fish could hear, though, as I wouldn’t want to crush their tiny spirits.

I liked how bright many of the houses were, it made the city feel quite cheerful.

This one little pond was absolutely stuffed to the gills with birds one evening. My favorite was obviously this little short-necked dude strutting around like he owned the place.

I never did get to try Icelandic meat soup, but not for lack of trying. Everywhere I went, every time I tried to order it, they were out. I’m not certain Icelandic meat soup actually exists.

And that wraps up Iceland! The stuff I didn’t talk about really doesn’t deserve its own post.

The Poulsbo Aquarium

July 15, 2015 Comments Off read Attractions, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

The Poulsbo Marine Science Center is a small but delightful aquarium, a cool free place to visit to take a break in your marathon donut eating sessions. It was nearly empty on the day I visited, which meant I got lots of personal attention from the volunteer docent. They don’t believe in “do not touch” and in fact encourage you (after rinsing your hands) to plunge your arms into their tanks up to the elbow and interact with the creatures inside. I learned that if you carefully place your finger between the spines, you’ll get a tiny sea urchin hug. I also learned that when you gently brush a sea anemone, if it feels sticky, that’s because it’s trying to eat you. NOT TODAY, ANEMONE.

My personal favorite was the display of moon jellyfish. It seems hard to believe that something so fragile and beautiful is just bopping around out there in the puget sound, doing its thing. It’s especially cool to have all of these local species available to look at and learn about up on dry land since between my terrible eyesight and my deep mistrust of underwater breathing aparatuses, it’s unlikely that I’ll be going to see them in their natural environment anytime soon. SO NOT TOMORROW, EITHER, ANEMONE.

Viking Fest in Poulsbo, WA

July 13, 2015 Comments Off read Attractions, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

As someone who enjoys traipsing about from festival to festival, I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking about what makes for a good festival versus one that’s mediocre or just plain sad. My general rule of thumb is that for a festival to be really good, it needs to be intrinsic to the identity of the area it’s being held. You need to be able to say, “YES, it totally makes sense that they’re holding this event here.” Like the lavender festival in Sequim. It needs to be an experience that you can only have there. It needs vendors with unique offerings that are enthusiastic about the theme. Otherwise, you end up like the sad strawberry festival in Bellevue, where you go through a parking lot clusterfuck only find a couple of sad strawberry offerings and booths filled with the same insurance and home repair people who are stuffing your mailboxes full of ads that you immediately chuck in the trash. Sure, someone might come out and protest it for some reason (I never realized the lord was so opposed to strawberries) but there isn’t much there to delight people or entice them to return. When I arrived in Poulsbo for the Viking Festival, I knew I was going to have a great time.

Poulsbo was settled by a community of Scandinavian immigrants because the area reminded them of home, and now with its rows of cute colorful houses, it definitely looks the part. Poulsbo is a city that lives and breathes its Scandinavian heritage, and it’s only right and natural that they’d have a viking-stravaganza one weekend a year–it’s so enthusiastic that I’m just surprised it doesn’t involve raids across the sound. Nearly every shop on their main street is viking related, from Thor’s Hammer and Needle Tattoo to The Nordic Maid to Viking Brew to a bookstore focusing on Scandinavian topics to a market filled with special imported foods, the pride in Poulsbo runs deep.

The Town

Viking king Olaf statueIf you think Thor’s hammer is impressive, wait until you see his needle Skeradreparekkr–it can piece twelve dudes through the midsection all at once. Or one very lucky lady.

The Donut Eating Contest

There were back-to-back eating contests the entire second day of the Viking Festival. First donuts, then oysters, then lutefisk. It comes as no surprise to anyone that the greatest number of competitors came out for the donut contests, which were separated into multiple divisions: young children, slightly older children, under 18, adult, and a Guinness world record attempt. The first two groups were judged on the speed eating of one donut. The under 18 and adult division had to speed eat three donuts. The Guinness attempt? Only one donut. One three pound donut.

Those knit viking helmets are the cutest f’ing thing, and I want one, even though it won’t look half as cute on me.

I think it was a huge misstep to not advertise that the final competition was a Guinness attempt or the size of the donut involved. The people who signed up clearly had no idea what they were getting into. They weren’t professional eaters (and that’s fine), but nobody just shows up off the street ready to eat a three pound donut on a whim! The person who came closest to finishing hers said that she had gone to Burger King beforehand, and that all she had wanted was one donut. That, to me, doesn’t sound like someone who was ready to try to be the fastest person in the world to eat a three pound donut. Over the course of a grueling hour and fifteen minutes, the people who signed up were harangued by some local radio personality to keep going, to finish the monstrosity in front of them. It’s rare but not unheard of for stomachs to rupture, and I think it’s irresponsible to peer pressure people who aren’t prepared for the challenge in front of them. Not only was it rough on the contestants, but it was also a slog for the attendees–how long can you sit and watch someone halfheartedly eat? I walked away, did some stuff, came back, and the contest was still going. They eventually cut for time because no one had finished and now it was significantly delaying the rest of the day’s events.

The Paddleboard Races

There were a surprising amount of people signed up for the stand up paddleboard races. They had two races: one was one mile, and the other was five miles. The mile race took just under 23 minutes for the last competitor to cross the finish line, so I didn’t end up sticking around to watch the five mile as there were other things I wanted to see and do while I was in town.

The Rest of the Festival

In addition to all of the eating contests and paddleboard races, there were a few different bike rides, a viking crafts center with metal and woodworkers, an area filled with replica nordic jewelry and tools for sale, a place where you could learn a bit of sword and shieldplay, and of course, some places where you could buy food, drinks, and some various trinkets, including something called “viking chips” which is a fried spiralized potato so I’m not really seeing what’s viking about it, and when I try to search for it, the internet assumes I mean “viking ships” so I don’t think vikings were the founders of the modern potato chip after all, and OH I GET IT, IT’S A PUN. I think the only other thing I could have asked for would have been more viking stuff for sale, because after seeing a bunch of people walking around in them, I really, really wanted a helmet and the only ones for sale anywhere were the cheapo plastic jobbers. I so wanted to slap that helmet with the badass metalwork above on my head and mosey on out of the tent, but it didn’t seem prudent, what with there being armed vikings everywhere. Next year, I’ll be back, with golden braids down to my ass and an appetite for a three pound donut.