After sleeping off the 35 hour plan trip we succumbed to a place far off the grid and easily the furthest any of us had been from home. I walked down to grab a coffee first thing in the morning to be greeted with a rad Icelandic barista named Bjork (seems like it is an incredibly common name). Bjork was stoked to have a chat with an Australian muso and by the time my coffee was fresh off the press we were jamming like we had been mates for years. One thing that struck us about the Icelandic people from the beginning was the genuine character.
The first few days became a bit of a blur as we settled into the swing of the Icelandic Airwaves Festival. We would usually meet in the morning for breakfast and then improvised some kind of pilgrimage whether it be scouring the festival or getting a nature fix. Reykjavik was an interesting town based around northern european architecture and is framed with a backdrop of water and mountains. The country side was almost prehistoric especially when you drive out of town and the mud starts to bubble and earth seeps sulphur gas; it wouldn't be to out of the ordinary if you witnessed a Pterodactyle swooping around or an army of elves marching towards middle earth. Stephen and Clare were so good to us during this trip, throwing around killer vibes and devising wicked plans. They organised a hike to a hot spring one day with a local chaperone which was for sure one the highlights of the trip.
After a large night of seeing bands and cruising the streets around town we had a local friend of FBI take us out to this national park about 45 minutes north of town where we hiked in subzero climates to the hot springs. I forgot my beanie so Clare taught me how to make one out of my scarf, a lesson I treasured after my head almost froze off from the cold. After hiking through the kind of cold you would get from a swine flu fever we all psyched up for the plunge into the hot spring.
There was a precise technique to this which involved leaving the jacket on whilst changing into the board shorts or bikini; simple but necessary. This was the traditional Icelandic hangover burner and I speak for everyone when I say it was the most effective remedy for self-inflicted damage ever practiced by man (the second being the Icelandic Sauna and volcanic steam room found within a kilometre radius of anywhere in Reykjavik).