Ghost towns

For about the last 50 years, the small fishing villages scattered around Iceland have been slowly abandoned, as more and more people move to Reykjavík. The situation is particularly drastic in the North Fjords, where my Danish and German friends just spent a week. They returned this morning with reports of efforts by the few remaining locals to keep the now-empty houses in good repair, hanging curtains, cutting the grass, and painting the outsides. I cannot imagine similar care being given to ghost towns in the U.S., even if, as the skeptic among us maintained, they are doing it just for the tourist value.   

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dett í, ofan á, úr, út

I´m not sure if someone had dett í (gotten drunk), or if það bara dett ofan á (it just sort of happened), or if some dett úr (forgot), but at any rate, my household goods dett út (have disappeared). Let's review the chronology here. Early August packers from the shipping company arrive at the apartment in Moraga. They load my 4 large plastic containers and 8 cardboard boxes, plus one baby crib, into their truck. I watch my things depart. In September, I ask the friendly girl (Magie is her name) if she happens to know when I might expect my stuff. Late September she tells me. I am most impressed. Extremely so. Mid October rolls around, and I have not gotten a call. And it occurs to me that I am going to be traveling through November. Hmm. So I call again. Well, yes, she tells me, looks like your shipment should arrive on the 31st of October. Now here I admit that maybe I was a little lacks. I had a lot to do before my trip, and so when they did not call me, I did not follow
Read more

Twitterverse

Although this is a function of the specific feeds I have chosen to follow, I have observed that Icelanders are much funnier on Twitter than Americans are. Americans tweet their opinions on political matters in categorical, condemnatory terms, or they use Twitter to bolster their professional expertise, a la LinkedIn. So kudos to the Icelanders for understanding the potential of the medium and maximizing it.
Read more

The sky weeps

For the last few days, the sky here in the San Francisco Bay has been filled with smoke, blown this way from a fire 100 miles away. At least 40 people died in that fire, a whole town destroyed, and many others missing. One reporter described the sky over the town as raining down ash. On this day, the 100 year anniversary of the end of World War I, the news in the US is filled with stories of the man who calls himself President, unwilling to step out into the rain to lay a wreath. Unwilling to partake in our communal, world wide weep. And I'm thinking about my trip to Iceland on Thursday, of the carbon dioxide the plane will be spewing into the sky. My third round trip from SF to Iceland this year, and I don't have anyway to make up for my carbon footprint. But in all honesty, I'm also wondering how bad the weather will be, if I'll have to be out braving wind and snow for the shot the documentary film maker wants, of me walking around outside. Will the landscape reme
Read more