Do you know Nói?

Nói Albínói. Directed by Dagur Kári, 2004.



Imagine my surprise when Gabe´s friend Cliff picked up my Netflix copy of Nói and said, "Hey, this is a really great film." I don't have too many acquaintances that share my love of Icelandic film! I did find out that our university library and our local independent video store both have it. I just finished watching it for the second time, and liked it even better than the first.

Nói is an outsider in many ways. Casting him as an albino just emphasizes his otherness. He has a shaven head, a basement hideaway. He wants to connect to others, but can't. He does connect with Iris, another outsider, but their relationship has a doomed feel.

Nói is very bright, but doesn't choose to conform at school. In one scene he decides to send his tape recorder in instead of attending class himself. Not a bad idea, really; this way he would be able to keep up and not be a distraction to the other students--kind of like long distance learning, right? His teacher doesn't see it that way. As is so often the case in education, the problem isn't the one student who refuses to do things "the right way", but rather what would happen if other students chose a similar path.

Nói doesn't live in a traditional family, but that isn't unusual in Iceland, or other places for that matter. He lives with his batty grandmother, and spends some time with his Dad, a dysfunctional individual who drinks too much, can't control his temper, regrets his wasted life, and is hopelessly waiting...for who knows what?

Will Nói will ever find a place to belong? He uses an old viewfinder to "escape" to Hawaii, and perhaps it is only that kind of distance which will afford him a fresh start.

A shotgun is featured in three memorable scenes. First, his grandmother uses it as an alarm clock. She shoots it out the window: "Nói, you're going to be late for school." Later in the film Nói tries unsuccessfully to hold up the local bank. But his reputation precedes him, and no one will take him seriously. In a telling scene huge icicles from a frozen waterfall hang motionless, suspended, waiting for a thaw. Nói blasts them down with the shotgun, precipitating their transformation. That sort of raw, unexpected violence may be what Nói himself needs in order to change.

The commentary by youthful director Dagur is worth listening to after seeing the film. He refers to the ambiguity of the action and his main character: is the film dealing with tragedy or liberation? Either way, it treats the subject with a lot of humor, a discerning touch, and great acting.

Hybrid

No, not my Prius, this film:

Little Trip to Heaven, directed by Baltasar Kormákur. 2005. Featuring Forest Whitaker and Julia Stiles. Filmed in Iceland and Minnesota. Drama. "There is no such thing as a no fault death."


This Iceland/US hybrid might have been called "Lost in Translation." Oops, that was used already (another film I expected to like, but which I found stultifyingly dull).

An insurance claims inspector investigates a suspicious death and a one-million-dollar policy involving an abused (and, of course, lovely and young) woman and her--brother? husband?
Dark, cold, atmospheric scenery that enhances the foreboding feel of the film. Excellent acting on the part of the ever-versatile and appealing Forest Whitaker.

The film has Icelandic scenery, some good acting, and lots of suspense. But it is disjointed--the plot doesn't hang together, and it is a disappointing effort by a director with at least two exceptionally fine films under his belt (The Sea, 101 Reykjavík). I am expecting Kormákur's Myrín not to disappoint! When will I be able to see it?

The Sea, or Hafið

Do you enjoy conflict? You know, the kind of stress you experience at Thanksgiving dinner when disparate family members reunite and old animosities flare up? Here is a movie about the ultimate dysfunctional family. This family has everything: substance abuse, incest, violence, jealousy, ulterior motives and altruism. Maybe even redemption.

Director Baltasar Kormákur is known for his highly regarded 101 Reykjavik, and most recently for the favorably reviewed Mýrin. He also directed No Such Thing (good concept; bad film). The Sea features superb acting, screenwriting and cinematography.

The story centers around the adult children of þórður, the owner of a fish processing plant. Thordur wants to keep the plant going, both to provide employment for the community and as a legacy for his family. He is proud of having built the company, and is determined that one of his sons will take over when he retires. His youngest son Agust, meanwhile, is living a lie—several lies—and while his father thinks he is at University getting a business degree he is actually a composer/songwriter. Agust is in an ambiguous relationship with his lover Francoise, who has recently become pregnant with his child. The action of the film builds around a trip that Agust and Francoise take from Paris to Iceland, reigniting old tensions and passions, and bringing old secrets to life. All of the family members convene at their father’s home, and the viewer is treated to drama that is as big as the stark, towering landscapes, and a plot that is funny, tragic, and surprising. This is a movie that you are likely to want to watch twice. It is hard to appreciate all the fine points in just one viewing.

The Sea (2002) won eight awards that are the Icelandic version of the Oscar. It is available from Netflix. Interestingly, the film location is Neskaupstaður, a remote fjord that recently has found its economy growing due to a controversial aluminum smelter and hydroelectric power plant.

Cold Fever

A 1995 film by Friðrik Þór Friðriksson.










Atsushi (a name that means "industrious") is a hard-working Japanese businessman looking forward to a well-earned golf vacation in Hawaii. But his life takes a sharp turn toward the unexpected when his conscience belatedly gets his attention: his presence is needed in Iceland, where his parents died some years before. Atsushi must honor his parents by finding the site where they died, so that their spirits may find rest. Giving up his golf vacation and his dreams of sunny beaches in Hawaii is the easy part.

Atsushi's odyssey takes him to increasingly remote and uninhabited parts of Iceland, where he meets some very eccentric people. We can't help but contrast this with his life in crowded, urban Japan, where personalities are more conventional. He leaves the semblance of the familiar in Reykjavík for mystical, magical country snowscapes where the unreal seems possible--or even probable.

We look through Atsushi's eyes at strange customs and events in a land where nothing is familiar and little is explained. It is refreshing to draw one's own conclusions, or make one's own guesses about this strange land and quirky people. There is so much to pique your curiosity. Does everyone sing in Iceland? What on earth are they eating? Do they really believe in mythical creatures? Do I really believe in mythical creatures?

Roger Ebert, in a very favorable review, admits to knowing little about Iceland prior to watching this film, and concludes: "I can now imagine visiting Iceland...". I hope you can too!

Friðriksson directed Children of Nature, another exceptionally fine film. Don't miss either of these.

Beowulf and Grendel

Directed by Sturla Gunnarsson, 2005.

Grendel, clay pen that writes in blood-red ink.
by Rachael, a Godwin student.

For a good time: spend an evening (or several) with Beowulf, aka Gerard ("I don't get all that mad") Butler, whata hunk.

What's the Iceland connection with Beowulf/Grendel? Director Sturla Gunnarsson is Icelandic, and it was filmed entirely in Iceland, with a number of Icelandic actors. Ingvar E. Sigurðsson does a wonderful job as Grendel--Grendel the troll, that is. (He also stars as Erlendur in Mýrin, which I'll happily review if I ever get the opportunity to see it, grrrr.)

This is one to see! Honestly, it's great, even if for those who don't like blood and gore (just cover your eyes at the appropriate times). I love the dialogue:

"A storm came up and ate our boat."

"Christ, eh? Is he any good with trolls?"

"Why did you kill him?" "He crossed our path--took a fish."

This film is a visual treat: much of it was filmed around Vík, Jökulsárlón, Skógarfoss and Höfn, with truly stunning scenery (hence four puffins). Grendel is portrayed creatively, and the film was made without computer graphics, animation or special effects. The dialogue is contemporary English, complete with slang. Accents are an eclectic mixture of Scottish, Icelandic, Canadian, Swedish. Atmospheric but not too intrusive, the beautiful musical score is composed by Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson (Cold Fever, Devil's Island, Children of Nature). Don't miss the Director's Commentary: complete with hurricanes, volcanoes, wind and rock storms, 40 foot surf, foul weather, and lots of unforeseen challenges, Gunnarsson could have written a fascinating book about the process of bringing this film to fruition.

Journey to Iceland

Or, to be more specific, Journey to the Center of the Earth (2008). I've been waiting for this to be available through Netflix. While the reviews haven't been stellar, I was looking forward to a movie with a touch of Iceland. After all, it features Snæfellsjökull and Icelandic actress Anita Briem. Alas, that isn't enough.

As the film began, my impressions were: It's got everything! Disneyland rides, longing for a lost Dad, technicolor terror, a history mystery. But then the opportunities to suspend disbelief started to become too numerous.


I asked John if he thought the film was campy, tongue-in-cheek? He asked me to think about who the film was intended for. Hmmm. That put it in a different light. Kids? Young kids? Kids too young to tell the difference between a bad movie and a really bad movie? Well, that would be really young kids.

The Iceland shots were enjoyable, and...note for dads of really young kids... Anita Briem looks great in a wet t-shirt. But ...moms... Brendan Fraser doesn't--really he doesn't. The best line was when Sean (Josh Hutcherson) said he wished he had read the book.

Kinda fun but gets old fast, some cool scenes and effects but also a lot of really pathetic ones. Anyway, you can skip this one, and if you don't believe me you can take Batty's word for it.

I award it two puffins (assuming the intended viewer is about ten years old).

Seagull's Laughter

Mávahlátur, by Ágúst Guðmundsson, 2001.





This Icelandic film is readily available in the U.S. through Netflix. It takes place in a small town near Reykjavik in the 1950's, and concerns a young woman, Freyja, who has returned from America. We see Freyja through the eyes of her 11-year-old "cousin" Agga, who is a part-admiring, part-suspicious observer. Freyja comes to stay with a household of women (Grandfather is usually away at sea), and all of the things that can happen in a household of women, do. And some. The drama is frequently portrayed in a droll, bemused manner.

At one point Freyja goes into the lava mountains at night, and Agga runs to wake her grandmother. "I think she's gone to dance with the elves!" Grandmother: "Was she wearing her Sunday shoes?" "No, her boots." Grandmother: "Well, she won't be doing much dancing in them." And grandmother rolls over and promptly goes back to sleep.

Grandma's impassiveness is constant and amusing. Whenever an unwelcome guest arrives, Grandma asks "Would you care for fresh coffee?" as the other womenfolk of the household intimidate the visitor into leaving. After a violent fight Grandma is quite upset...because "I seem to have completely run out of coffee substitute."

Did Freyja kill her American husband? Is she a witch? Will she revenge herself on her childhood friends who called her fatty? (Those friends are not calling the perfectly proportioned beauty "fatty" anymore.) We can't help but wonder what Freyja is capable of--she is clearly someone that you wouldn't want to anger. Despite her vanity and her willingness to use her beauty for her own ends, she also displays a protective, caring, and fun-loving side; her unpredictable temperament is appealing. The scene where she invites three town drunks into her fancy home to shock the locals is charming.

This film is like the perfect blend of coffee: various flavors in just the right amount. It is light and dark, cold and hot, funny and tragic. It is about the supreme test of wills, about strong women who chose to control their destiny (by whatever means necessary? perhaps.) It is exceedingly clever, and the acting, filmography and script are wonderful. In particular, Ugla Egilsdóttir, who plays young Agga, is a marvelous actress. See for yourself!

I wish that other films by Gudmundsson were available here...there are some available in university libraries that I will try to borrow.

Children of Nature




Director Fridrik Thor Fridriksson produced this film in 1991. The subtle, atmospheric music is by Hilmar Orn Hilmarsson. The story centers around two elderly folks who meet in a retirement home. Porgeir has just arrived from his farm in the country, and he meets up with Stella, an old friend from his childhood days in the Western Fjords. The staff of the retirement home don't treat the elderly residents with much respect, and there are plenty of rules to chafe against, especially for a nonconformist like Stella. Stella and Porgeir conceive a plan to run away and go back to the northwest to rediscover their roots, and...but I won't give it all away.

This is a very beautiful, humorous, gentle and slow-paced film. It portrays the power and magnetism of the Icelandic countryside, the magic and mystery inherent in the wild, inexplicable environment, and the laconic, straightforward nature of its people. I recommend it to anyone with the patience to appreciate a very leisurely, distilled beauty.

101 Reykjavík

This is the first feature film that Baltasar Kormákur wrote and directed, although he was already well-known as an actor at the time it was produced (2000). Hlynur (played by the versatile and talented Hilmir Snær Guðnason) is the anti-hero: 30 years old and unemployed, still living at home with his mother, an outsider who can't seem to connect with people except through drinking and/or sex. While Hlynur is having trouble coping with the most basic parts of his existence, his mother complicates things by bringing home her incredibly sexy lesbian lover. And we thought Hlynur was confused before.

I enjoyed 101 more the first time I watched it: the surprises were intact, the humor fresh, each lovely shot of Reykjavík a visual treat. It features excellent acting and great music. On my second viewing I found myself wishing for more nuance and subtlety. Nevertheless it's an entertaining film, and one you're not likely to forget.

Questions

Question 1:

Thor and I were talking on skype the other night about Angels of the Universe. When I mentioned Gudmundsson, Thor said "Who? You mean Einar--in Iceland we use first names!"

Which makes me wonder...in a film or book review, should I refer to the author or director by first or last name? If the focus of this blog is Iceland, why am I using a non-Icelandic name convention? What do YOU think? Here is your chance to vote!

Question 2:

I enjoyed Batty's description of how he got Iceland on the Brain. What about you others out there...want to share? It's fun to hear from folks who have a similar obsession--or should I say passion?

Learn from the Movies

When Jar City (the "bleak new noir" film) comes to Richmond, this is what I can look forward to learning about Iceland. You too!

Unfortunately, if you don't live in L.A. or New York, or Iceland, you get to learn much later...

Still, I haven't read my copy of Indriðason's book yet, and I'd like to do that before I see the movie.

My First Icelandic Movie

A number of years ago I went to our local independent video store, Video Fan, in search of Icelandic films. One of the women working there had been to Iceland and could recommend a few titles that they owned. Remote Control, or Sodoma Reykjavik (Oskar Jonasson, 1993) was the first one I saw. It was light and funny, and I could see what contemporary Iceland looks like (all of my mental images having previously been supplied by Laxness and the Sagas). I then began to seek out any Icelandic films that I could find.

Netflix has since come on the scene, and they have a few Icelandic offerings. They aren't as responsive as I would like, when I request an Icelandic film that they don't own. They just don't know how many of us are out here, waiting to enjoy Icelandic cinema!

I'm not sure how many puffins to assign to Remote Control. It has been so many years, and the Video Fan copy has long since disappeared. (No, I do not have it.) All I can say is, I wasn't disappointed. If you get the chance, watch it.

Meanwhile, I'll review some films that are more readily available soon.

And...watch for diacritics, coming to this blog soon!

FIRST First Meme

I was looking back at memes on the blog of one of my favorite Icelanders, Gunnella. Turns out, Gunnella tagged me in April 2006, and I somehow overlooked it. Since we are birthday buddies (same month, a "few" years apart) I feel compelled to respond, right now! Here you go, Tokyo Girl:

Amnesia Lane 8 Meme

First town you ever lived in:
Santa Rosa, California, where I spent 18 years. Luther Burbank once said, "this is the chosen spot of all this earth as far as Nature is concerned." I have to agree. It is a step away to the wine country, the Russian River, San Francisco, the lovely, rocky coast of the Pacific, and is just 3 hours from the Sierra Nevadas. What more could you want?

First album owned: The Monkees.
...and it still resonates, because I too "get the funniest looks from everyone I meet." Here's the one I was in love with...Peter Tork. What a hunk, huh?







First gig seen:
That would be Elton John, Oakland Coliseum, around 1971 or 1972. I wore a cute polyester pants suit, with small light-blue-and-white checks, that my mother made me, and it got a cigarette hole burn in it (NOT my cigarette). Elton wore HUGE glasses, and an Uncle Sam-type red white and blue get-up. He was so fabulous.

First Celebrity Crush:
See Peter Tork, above. Would this have been the origin of the name Peter for my pet rabbit? (the one that I took on bike rides in a pillowcase hanging from the handlebars) Not to mention son #2?
After seeing the picture of Peter Tork, would it surprise you to learn that subsequent crushes included Jerry Brown, Woody Allen, and Armando Manzanero?


First Film you remember seeing:
Wizard of Oz. Still scares me. Don't like it.

First time you drank alcohol:
This is so easy to remember. I was about 14 years old. I went to a wedding with my best friend, Michele, in Berkeley. It was her aunt's wedding, and there was lots of champagne. When I got back to Michele's house I called home to say I'd be spending the night. Wrong! "Your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth so badly that you can't even talk! I'm coming to pick you up RIGHT NOW!" (my Mom)

First paying job:
Besides working for my Dad, it would be my job at JC Penney. Clerk. (Oh, and model. Ha.)

First Kiss: Oooh, Craig. Donner Lake. In the boat tied up at the dock. He was late to dinner and got grounded!

Thanks for the trip down memory lane, Gunnella. I tag Munkay.

Grammy Museum: Vacation Retrospective #2

"The Grammy Museum" is a misnomer. I'm not even interested in the Grammys (haven't ever watched them, don't even have cable reception on my TV--my TV is just a Netflix viewer). But the scope of this museum goes far beyond Grammy stuff. It just opened this year, and it is a winner!

Ok, so we're talking L.A., in the new L.A. Live complex (you know, where the Lakers play). Lesson 1: go with a group. There were seven of us, so it was cheaper to get a membership than to get individual tickets--that way we got the rest of the tickets free, plus other cool swag. Lesson 2: give yourself plenty of time. We spent 2 or 3 hours there, but could easily have been entertained all day. We were greeted by friendly, knowledgeable staff who made us welcome and helped us plot our course.

We began our tour on the 4th floor, and worked our way down. It has a wonderful interactive area where you put on good quality headphones and do a Pandora-type thing to explore different genres of music.

There is a large display area showing the history of music and political protest--how the two influence each other. We saw Woody Guthrie's 1936 Martin guitar, with the words written on it, "This machine kills fascists." Pete Seeger's banjo (1945) had these words: "This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender." And we saw Bob Dylan's 1949 Martin guitar. John said that if he had a guitar his would say, "This machine eats dead flowers." Hmmm.

The 3rd floor is comprised of individual sound booths where you can learn about music recording and production by doing! We found this very fun. And educational. Also on this floor are the exhibits pertaining to the Grammy awards and award winners, which I enjoyed despite myself, and despite much of it being devoted to Neil Diamond (well, turns out he was quite handsome in his younger years, wore hip clothes, and was a fencer!).

The 2nd floor has a 200-seat concert hall, intimate and high tech, where they host live performances and film festivals. (Maybe the Speckled Bird will play there one day.) Currently it is being used for a Michael Jackson retrospective (we visited just a month after his death), and is showing all M.J. videos. I was really struck by what an amazing performer he was. I was mesmerized, and could have spent the entire afternoon watching Michael Jackson. I have a new appreciation for his costumes, too--many of those are on display as well.

Well, I have just touched on some of the highlights of this museum. If you get the chance, go there--take your friends and family, too. It's hard to imagine someone who wouldn't love this museum! If you're not in L.A., Lesson 3: tour it online.

Jar City on Netflix

I've read three of the Arnaldur Indridason books that have been translated into English--the fourth, Arctic Chill, is on my shelf waiting to be read. When I read his first Icelandic thriller, Jar City (also published under the title Tainted Blood), I liked it fairly well, and hoped that the series would improve with each book. Others liked it even more: it won a number of awards, the Reykjavik Murder Mystery series have been translated into many languages, and they do well on the bestseller lists. I find Erlendur, the main character, engaging and sympathetic, I enjoy the occasional flashes of humor, and like the descriptions of Iceland, but the books are a bit too bleak to be my personal favorites.


I've been waiting a long time to see the (2006) film version of Jar City, and it finally became available on Netflix. The movie version is very bleak as well. But it does provide wonderful glimpses of Icelandic culture and scenery, and the casting is excellent. For a more in-depth review of the movie or the books, check out Professor Batty's pages. Fans can look forward to the English version of Hypothermia, due out in September 2010.

Journey to the Center of the Earth

I am currently reading the 1864 Jules Verne science fiction novel. What good timing! A new film version is in progress! It is due for release in summer 2007 and features Brendan Fraser, Anita Briem and Josh Hutcherson. Anita Briem is an Icelandic actress, and it was filmed in Iceland. This version is placed in a contemporary setting. It appears that Jules Verne never actually visited Iceland.

Lagoon to Lagoon

Today is another sunny day, all day, and starts with a rush of excitement. The huge mountain face behind our guesthouse is free of clouds, rising up grandly before us. We are off to an early start for Jokulsarlon, because we want to get on the first boat out on the lagoon. It's a short drive, and I can hardly wait.

We arrive early and find the man in the yellow "lifewest." Thus begins an adventure with many firsts: our first trip on an amphibious vehicle, first trip on a glacial lagoon, first time to eat glacial ice (which happens to be 1,000-1,500 years old).

What we encounter is a nearly 700-foot-deep lagoon with icebergs floating in it. These icebergs are calved, or broken off of the many fingers of the large glacier which meets the lagoon waters. Only one tenth of the icebergs can be seen, while the bulk of them float below the water line. The colors are mystical and beautiful: crystal blues, shimmering whites, black patterns on the ice caused by lava sand. The deepest-blue 'bergs are ones that have turned over. Seven years from now the largest of these icebergs will finally have melted.

A young man in an inflatable raft-boat with an outboard motor follows behind us. His role may be to help our larger craft find the safest route through the icebergs, to pick up any tourists that fall overboard while leaning out to take photos, or to practice trick maneuvers...possibly all of the above. Our guide hands us a chunk of glacial ice which the raft guy has retrieved for her. We pass it around, examining it, and then she hammers it into pieces for us to breakfast upon. The ice is incredibly dense and clear, with no air bubbles in it...move over, Culligan! The photo opportunities are overwhelming, both from the boat as well as walking alongside the lagoon. We imagine that our friend Gunnella would need an entire day here with her camera.

If you want to see this ethereal sight for yourself, check out one of these James Bond films: A View to Kill, or Die Another Day.

Gabe is already out of film and wishing he had brought more with him. He purchases some at the gift shop, and after much picture-taking we continue counter-clockwise along the Ring Road. We arrive at the town of Hofn, situated on a large harbor with a fabulous view beyond of 4 or 5 glacial fingers reaching down from the massive Vatnasjokull glacier. We get gas and groceries, then reward ourselves with pastries and coffee--a developing ritual.

Now we head up into the East Fjords and, impossibly, the scenery becomes even more spectacular. Each fjord has its own unique characteristics, featuring towering, jagged peaks, sun-sparkled water, deep tunnels through mountains and road surfaces that change from paved to gravel and back. When we stop the car to get out and admire a view, it's a feast for all the senses: mountains and water as far as you can see, birds calling, warm sunshine, and a slight or strong breeze bringing a crisp, clean, fresh smell that you want to breathe in forever. It's sensory overload of a huge, peaceful kind; it's religion; it's Iceland!

Lunch is an enjoyable interlude at Cafe Margret, a German restaurant/chalet/inn across from Breiddalsvik. The chalet is filled with paintings and drawings, antique furniture and china, and every surface, walls, ceiling, and floor, is smooth Finnish pine. Gabe and I share a dish of fresh cod with horseradish sauce, lime, potatoes and salad. It is very ample for the two of us, and is the best meal I've had in Iceland (so far). There are other discoveries here as well: a small inn upstairs, with cozy sitting rooms, overstuffed chairs, windows and skylights, balconies. A double room costs about $120. USD--I would love to return here and stay the night!

After lunch we investigate some of the outbuildings and discover the ultimate chicken house, complete with a boot functioning as a flower vase, a turf roof, and typical scandinavian wooden cross-bars (there must be a name for these) with chicken-head motifs. We take pictures so that Antonia can use the design as inspiration for her as-yet unbuilt chicken house.

Back in the car, many more fjords await us. We could eliminate a lot of snaking back and forth, and shorten the ride, but that would require traveling over large mountains with scary curves, no guardrails, and gravel surfaces. How can I enjoy the view if I'm so terrified that my eyes are closed? The occupants of the car indulge Mom and we take the long way.

The long way gives us the opportunity to see one very hot potato of a fjord, where divergent Icelandic political views focus on an Alcoa aluminum smelting plant. We can see the huge, sprawling plant across the fjord in the distance. What we can't see is what is being planned to power the plant: the damming of some of Iceland's wildest, largest, most pristine glacial rivers of the interior. This is a huge environmental controversy, and you can get a taste by looking at Saving Iceland.

Leaving the Alcoa site at Reydarfjördur we travel inland to Egilsstadir. We stop at a gas station adjacent to an outdoor soccer field that is ringed by rocks and...trees! We stop to enjoy an agressive game of soccer by two girls teams.

We continue our drive across the highlands, encountering lava deserts, sheep, fantastic rock formations, steep ravines and the unvaryingly spectacular scenery that you can't escape in Iceland. Our destination is Lake Myvatn, a favorite vacation spot.

Driving down to the lake we pass a plant where geothermal energy is harnessed to process diatomaceous earth that is dredged or excavated from the nearby lake. The word diatomite is familiar to us, but we are very surprised when we later look up the word and are reminded of its many uses! Check it out!

The diatomite plant is eerily beautiful at early dusk, with clouds of steam above aqua blue water ponds, in a stark landscape. We read in our guidebook that there is a hot springs lagoon area, part of the plant, where the public can bathe. We can't wait to go...before bed, tonight!

Lodging is a tiny cabin in a campground. Really tiny...nothing but bunks, a little table, and a little porch. We share the bathrooms, showers and kitchen facilities with the tent campers. Our cabinette is on the shores of the lake, the shores themselves being immense, ridged lava fields. After unpacking and having a picnic ("snack") dinner, we jump in the car, excited (some of us, anyway) about our upcoming mineral bath.

We don't know what to expect. The guidebook described how people used to bathe in geothermal ponds used by the diatomite plant, and how that was not necessarily very safe. Then the plant opened up an area specifically for the public to use. Would it be a pond in the middle of an empty lava field? Would other people be there? Would it be clothing optional? We figure that, worst case scenario, we could change into our swim suits in the car and wear our sandals to walk to the springs.

What we find is a small, not-very-commercial version of the Blue Lagoon. Although not nearly as large as its touristy cousin, this lagoon is still large, on a hill overlooking the lake. The bathing lagoon itself has the appearance of an "eternity pool" extending out to the skyline. There is an attractive, new building with a cafe, changing and shower facilities. It is a very chilly dash from the building to the lagoon, but the pool itself is hot enough to be nearly painful. Oh joy! From the surreal, steaming blue waters, perched on black lava rock seats we watch the sun dip past the lagoon, the lake, and the horizon as it approaches midnight. Sulphuric smells arise with the steam, and the water has an extremely soft, silky, alkaline feel to it--it is supposed to be very good for skin conditions. Gabriel is frustrated to be without his camera. He is willing to dash inside through the cold to retrieve it, and to risk ruining his 35mm antique (my Minolta from 1969) by taking it into the lagoon to document this event. Thank you, Gabe!

We sleep well in our mini-cabin, totally relaxed.
High 60° Low 46°