Tokyo Damage Report

Norway 3

this trip. . . . it is dildos page 3


rent a car at roughly 5 times the u.s. price. Even though it is my last day here and the national park is like 3 hours away, I am going, damn it, I don’t care how insane it is. It will be light until 4 am, so I will drive all day and hike all night.


so anyway, just like I thought, no sooner do I get outside of the city than I find this crazy unique scenery that a tour bus would just drive right by. But me, I park by the side of the freeway and cavort. It is a huge flat plain full of giant volcanic rocks scattered like grains of sand on a giant-scale beach, and overgrown with like 4 inches of moss. I have been wanting to do exactly this since I got here and that is word. See, the mountains of Iceland are bleak and forbidding as advertised.  but, unlike other mountain countries (neighboring Norway for instance) the beauty of Iceland is not in the giant and huge but in the small and detailed. the textures. the microscopic fractal patterns of moss and volcanic rock.  and not just one rock but like rocks piled to the horizon. even if I sit for an hour I can’t wrap my mind around all the details.  and unlike most exotic lands, Iceland FEELS  as weird as it LOOKS.  I will never forget the moon-walk-y sensation of treading on moss so thick you bounce on it.  I am sure a native would have yelled at me– parking my car in a danger spot by the freeway to walk, alone, on some random hillside "you fool, that moss could be hiding a huge crack, you could break a leg that way!" but whatever, I was careful.

above, here is how stoked i am:

and below, the riot of moss:

here is how spongy it is:

then, drive more until I pass through a town called, HELLA.


this trip. . . . it is dildos, page 4


In Hella, I actually pick up a hitcher. some French communist grandma, who is really nice.  I never picked up a hitcher before. she is going to the same destination as me. after driving more than 3 hours, I get within 25km of my destination only to find that the remaining road is 4wd only.  ok, so now the camera is broken, it is my last day in Iceland, and I just drove 3 hours for nothing. but I am not even pissed because finally I have freedom. I can drive where I want.  I say bye to the hitcher, and hike up a random cliff.  no trails, just do it.  wind up on the top of a waterfall, looking over.  keep walking, find another waterfall and look over THAT.  . peaceful as hell.  see a bunch of Icelandic sheep just grazing. Icelandic sheep are better than average because they have horns and plus you think regular unshorn sheep are fat??? No!   Icelandic sheep have so much blubber and fur they are basically like cotton balls with dreds on.  and the butt???  just badonkadonk.

above, view from behind the waterfall.

and below, the incredible moss growing on the wall of the back-of-the-waterfall.

crazy cliffs from the south cost of iceland. note the wondeful giant marshmallows that dot the landscape. those were fucking omnipresent.

icelandic horses are small and sturdy with long 80’s-skater-kid bangs. Apparently they are much more friendly and docile than most horses.

view from the top of the waterfall cliff.

below, a dead waterfall:

below, a live waterfall. i am standing on top of the cliff, shotting. the little RV at the bottom should give you an idea of how high up it is.

below: rock formations that look like viking skulls and faces.




driving back after the hike I get just insanely tired and have to pull over.  I am still like 10 hours behind on sleep. I guess I could of rested till I was able to drive, and then gone to a hotel in Reykjavik, but I gotta catch a plane in 6 hours, so fuck a hotel. I wind up sleeping in the car in the dead of night in Iceland, in a compact.  all curled up in fetal position. I dream of purring cats, then I dream some Viking with a shotgun comes to my car and points the barrel right at my face.


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