Beached whales as winfalls, plus solo guffaws on the couch

#121

Góðan daginn og gleðilegt nýtt ár!

I hope you all had a lovely and gentle slide (as the Germans say) into the new year. Me, I was slammed by that pesky bug I was coming down with last week, so I spent New Year’s Eve home alone on the couch while the rest of my peeps gathered elsewhere for a gala dinner and new year’s festivities. Not my preferred way to welcome the new year, of course, but whatareyagonnado. Once I had resigned myself to it, it was fine. I received regular photo and message updates and phone calls at midnight, so it was all good.

Good thing that RÚV (national broadcaster) always does an excellent job of keeping the populace entertained on New Year’s Eve—precisely when no one has the time to watch. Except this time I did. I flopped there getting all fired up listening to our new PM’s address to the nation, emotional when they played the oh-so patriotic Land míns föður over stunning footage of Icelandic nature, choked up watching a recap and review of the year’s major news stories, and finally guffawed uncontrollably during the annual Áramótaskaup. The whole gamut of emotions, it was quite cathartic.

I say “no one has the time to watch”, but that is not quite true—everyone has time for the Áramótaskaup, which begins at 10.30 pm and runs for an hour. This is an end-of-year comedy revue lampooning the main events and news of the year, and while it is on the streets are empty. Everyone sits glued to the television. It’s the most community-building thing ever … well, until it is over and people start arguing about whether it was funny or unfunny, good or awful. (Predictably that usually depends on whether “their” favoured politicians, celebrities, political leanings etc. got ridiculed or not.)

Let the record show that I thought it was HILARIOUS this year. So much that, the next day, hubby and I watched it again, together, because we always laugh twice as hard at things when we watch them together.

Curious about this national institution of ours? Well, good news: it’s available with English subtitles here. Though, mind you, I don’t know if there are regional restrictions—if so, you’ll have to use a VPN. Obviously some of the jokes are only funny if you’ve kept up with Icelandic affairs, while others are funny irrespective of context. Some personal faves: the “Bjarni Ben” game at 19.29 “that makes you lose all faith in the system” and the weather/volcanic eruption warning at 23.19 (but of course the Blue Lagoon is always open … though perhaps with limited parking). 🤣

Anyhoo. Since I didn’t get out much over the last few days, here is a photo of the sunset at 15.15. taken last year when we drove the three hours into the countryside and back to get our dog out of the New Year’s mayhem—as we did this year, only daughter and son-in-law made the trip.

And now read on, paid supporters, for our weekly take on idioms and proverbs from the Little Book of Icelandic, plus a voice note from me on pronunciation, etymology, cultural context, and a bit of Icelandic history. 😉