Christmas, Iceland

With the Yule Lads still descending from the mountains, Christmas finally arrived - as it always does, on the 25th of December. With the village almost devoid of people Dan, Cat and I were left to our own devices to decide how to celebrate. With my traditional lack of planning I was going to be content with a few coldies and maybe some rice and beans. Cat fortunately had a better idea ... beers AND chicken. One of the most expensive meats in Iceland, it is somewhat unusually considered a 'delicacy' and as such consumed to a lesser extent than either horse, whale and certainly the ubiquitous boiled sheep's head. Cat also wanted to try her hand at some truly Icelandic cooking, which resulted in some odd looking but delicious Laufabrauð - thin deep-fried wheat breads which are traditionally cut with intricate decorative patterns.

Christmas chickens

Icelandic Laufabrauð (Leaf Bread)

Washed down with more than enough 'mini Thors' dinner was not surprisingly a success. Presents of course were exchanged beneath the Christmas Branch, which was left in Dan's capable hands while Soizic was home in France for the holidays. Not one of the most festive Christmas seasons we've ever had (for me no doubt due to the lack of barbeque's and swimming in the sea), but a good one none the less. I hope you all got visited by Santa and managed to soak up the goodness of the Kiwi summer - I am infinitely jealous.

The Christmas Branch

The best thing about it being Christmas is that it means that I made it through the shortest day of the year. On the 21st the sun rose at 11:22am and set at 3:29pm. Because the valley I live in doesn't actually receive sunlight from roughly October to March, it seemed little different to any other day of the Arctic winter. I just consider myself lucky that I'm not still scared of the dark ...