The City

The class trip out to Reykholt was postponed for the tail of the hurricane Irene which will be brushing up against our fair isle tomorrow. So, lacking pictures of Snorri's abode and the countryside, I thought I'd fill out my presented image of the city with more and better pictures of it.

The national library, including all the academic tomes.

I will be spending a lot of time here.

Perlan, or the Pearl. Looks like a great breast from afar,

but up close the pillars (old water reservoirs) look like great thighs,

the dome like a pregnant belly, and each of the entrances like great

looming vulva. Cheers.

The south end of town with the great pond,

and all its gooseshit, and for a moment the clouds break

a show the hills.

A statue in a nice little grove of birch in the same park.

At this point in my walk I got sort of stuck on the statues.

They beat out Portland's, in my mind, though both 

cities are too modern to have proper statues. Alas, I don't

remember what any of them are called.

Big old churches command a certain respect from

the surrounding weather patterns.

The two towers. Plus bird.

 My kind of fountain. One of the tasteful parts of the city.

The great Icelandic revolutionary. . .of sorts. There

not really much for the classic revolution around here.

Not the sweater tree, but another I found.

Must be a popular thing.

The nearly brand new performing arts center.

 The sweater tree.