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My Cities: Reykjavík

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Street Scene in Iceland’s Capital City

It’s not a terribly large city, only about 140,000 residents as of 2023. But when you add in the outskirts, it becomes 248,000, more than half the population of the entire island. It’s one of the most expensive cities in Europe, but one of the most approachable.

No, you don’t have to speak Icelandic—a version of medieval Norse—to understand the people, most of whom under the age of 80 speak English. One of the most beloved eating places in town is the hot dog stand pictured below:

Bææjarins Beztu Pylsur: The City’s Best Sausages

Its most famous customer was Bill Clinton, who famously asked for a hot dog with mustard only. To this day, if you order a Clinton at BBP, that’s what you get. I’d rather order the works, which include mustard, remoulade sauce, ketchup, raw onion, and fried onions.

If you like American fast food, you will find plenty of it not only in Reykjavík but around the island as well. That includes pizza, hamburgers, and hot dogs (pylsur), to name a few. There’s no McDonalds or Starbucks, but you will find Domino’s and Subway.

Where Are All the Skyscrapers?

Above is a view of central Reykjavík from a boat on a harbor puffin cruise. You can walk the heart of the city from one end to the other in about forty minutes. But I’ll bet you can’t do it without stopping a dozen places for coffee, books, souvenirs, ice cream, or beer.

I’ve been to Iceland in 2001 and 2013. I hope I can visit it again. It’s fun. It’s low key. And the fish is effing fantastic.

Jökulsárlón

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Weird Ice Floes at Jökulsárlón in Southeast Iceland

My mind keeps going over the places I’ve seen In Iceland duri9ng my two trips there in 2001 and 2013. One of the most amazing was the glacial lagoon at Jökulsárlón between Vík í Myrdal and Höfn. The lagoon was full of hundreds of ice floes that had broken off the giant glacier of Vatnajökul. Some were white, others had strange blue highlights; and some were coated with debris picked up en route to the lagoon.

The lagoon at Jökulsárlón is probably one of the top ten sights to see in Iceland. It’s too far from Reykjavík to do in a day trip (though it is offered by some tour operators). Usually, it’s a sight that only travelers who are doing the Ring Road (Route 1) around Iceland get to see. It is possible to take a boat ride around the lagoon.

Equally worth seeing is the black sand beach called Breiðamerkursandur that is just across the highway from the lagoon.

Glacial Ice on Breiðamerkursandur

As you walk along the black sand beach, you see chunks of ice from broken-up ice floes scattered along the sands like diamonds. Travelers have to be careful, because the area is known for occasional “sneaker waves” that could carry travelers off to an icy and wet death.

My Cities: Paris

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Place Denfert-Rochereau in Paris

My last name is Paris, although I have not a drop of French blood in my veins. In Hungarian, my last name is Páris, pronounced PAH-reesh. On my father’s Czechoslovakian passport when he emigrated to the United States in 1929 (bad timing), his last name was shown as Parisej. When I asked him about this, he said the dominant Czechs always messed with Slovak last names.

There was a time when I was anti-French. This reached its height in 1976, when my Laker Airlines flight to London first stopped at Paris’s Orly Airport. We were all deplaned and made to go through security by the French police. When one of the officers wanted me to open up the back up my Olympus OM-1 camera and expose the film that was loaded, I refused and remarked rather snootily, “Je ne suis pas Carlos le terroriste!” Somehow, the officer smirked and let me continue without sending me to the guillotine.

Since then, I began to admire France more and more. My girlfriend, Martine, was born in Paris. My favorite novelists (Honoré de Balzac and Marcel Proust) are French. Subsequently, I visited Paris twice with Martine, staying first near Place de Clichy and then on the Left Bank near the Eiffel Tower.

I fell in love with Arthur Rimbaud, Blaise Pascal, Paul Eluard, François Villon, Emile Zola, Albert Camus, Patrick Modiano, Jean-Pierre Manchette, Nicolas Poussin, Antoine Watteau, Claude Lorrain, Auguste Renoir and his cinéaste son Jean, Jean-Luc Godard … Oh, hell, the list goes on damn near forever! In the end, I did a 180.

Public Transit Map of Paris

Now with the opening ceremony of the 2024 Paris Olympics, I am more impressed than ever with the French. In a handful of brilliant images, France reminded us who and what they were, and what they meant to the world.

Whenever I read a French novel, I am never without a copy of Paris Pratique Par Arrondissement in my lap, so I can follow the action street by street, neighborhood by neighborhood. It’s almost as if I considered Paris as more than just another city: It is a city I revere, a world city.

To Ensenada for Tacos

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Doña Sabina of La Guerrerense in Ensenada

An hour south of the Mexican border is the city of Ensenada, which along with Tijuana and several other locations in Baja California has become a foodie hotbed. And we’re not talking sit-down restaurants with white tablecloths and snooty sommeliers, but food stands where crowds of standees munch on world-class Mexican food. Ensenada is famous for having invented the fish taco and the margarita; and Tijuana is home of the Caesar Salad.

In September, my brother and I will drive to Ensenada for a few days and indulge in some serious street grunting. To get an idea of what that might be like, check out this video from Anthony Bourdain’s “Parts Unknown” show:

The little lady in both the photo and the video is Doña Sabina Bandera, whose stand—““La Guerrerense”—is famous for seafood tostadas. In fact, Bourdain called it the best street food purveyor in the world.

I have long felt that something interesting is going on in the Mexican food scene, especially in those parts of Baja so close to Alta California. It will be fun to have some of the best seafood dishes on the continent, and not have to pay a king’s ransom for the privilege.

My Cities: Buenos Aires

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Plaza de Mayo with Jacarandas

In my mind, Buenos Aires is forever associated with Jorge Luis Borges. It is my love of the author’s works which led me to Argentina three times: in 2006, 2011, and 2015. God knows, I would welcome a fourth visit. It’s a huge city (17 million population in the metropolitan area); it’s difficult to get around in; but I love it nonetheless.

What does one say to a city whose biggest tourist attraction is a cemetery? Each time, I visited the Recoleta Cemetery and viewed the crypt where Evita Peron is buried. Yet, poor Borges is buried in Geneva, Switzerland.

Funerary Monuments at Recoleta Cemetery

Borges taught me that Buenos Aires is a city of neighborhoods, of which my favorite is Palermo. At Borges 2135 in Palermo is where Jorge Luis spent his boyhood.

Palermo is also home to some of the loveliest parks in the city, including the Botanical Garden and the zoo where he visited the tigers that appeared in so many of his poems and stories.

Palermo’s Jardin Botanico

One thing that impressed me was the large stray cat population of the Jardin Botanico. While I was there, a local resident came and fed them. He then folded up his bag and walked toward the exit.

I think I would probably choose to stay in Palermo the next time I visit.

My Cities: Edinburgh

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Edinburgh Castle Cityscape, Scotland, UK

The most incredible street in the British Isles has to be the Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. At one end, it is anchored by the looming hulk of Edinburgh Castle and, at the other, by the Royal Palace of Holyroodhouse. In between lies the whole pageant of Scottish history.

Along the way are St. Giles Cathedral, the High Kirk of Scotland; the tolbooth, or prison, described in Sir Walter Scott’s The Heart of Midlothian (1818); and the house of John Knox. Short dead-end streets known as wynds contain Europe’s first high-rises.

Gladstone’s Land, an Early High Rise Building

England, Wales, and Scotland are all rich in history; but in Scotland there is a particular awareness of history that permeates the culture and literature of the Scots. You find it in the works of Robert Louis Stevenson and the historical novels of Nigel Tranter. You can hardly step out of your hotel without finding yourself in the middle of it.

I’ve been to Edinburgh four times in all dating from 1976, the first two times alone, the second two times with Martine. If I had the money, I would dearly love to go again. There is something about reading one of Scott’s Waverly novels while eating a steaming bowl of cullen skink. And yes, I actually like a plate of haggis and neeps (mashed turnips), probably because haggis tastes like Hungarian liver sausage, or hurka.

Coporaque

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Poster Celebrating the 185th Anniversary of the Town

Now that I am retired and living on a fixed income, I like to remember some of the places I’ve been that impressed me. I spent only one night and part of two days in Coporaque, Peru near the north rim of Colca Canyon, but I wound up liking it more than Machu Picchu.

The area is split betweeen three ethnic groups: the Cabanas, the Kollawas (Collaguas), and the Ccaccatapay. The Canyon at its deepest point 3,400 meters or over 11,000 feet , almost twice the depth of Arizona’s Grand Canyon. Curiously, it’s not even the deepest canyon in Peru: nearby Cotahuasi Canyon wins that honor.

What comes to mind when I remember my visit to the area is that it is surrounded by volcanoes, one of which—Sabancaya—is in a permanent state of eruption. The terracing for agriculture goes back to the Incas.

Agriculture Terraces Going Back to the Incas

I wouldn’t mind going back to Colca Canyon, even though its 11,000-foot altitude requires that I chew coca leaves to avoid keeling over. En route to the canyon, we went over a mountain pass at Patapampas where the altitude was over 15,000 feet (4,572 meters). As I stepped out of the van to check out the view, I started to fall flat on my face, but was prevented from doing so by our Peruvian guide.

Anza-Borrego

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Me at the Vallecito Stage Depot in 2014

A large chunk of Eastern San Diego County is occupied by the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, the largest in California’s state park system. I used to go hiking and tent camping there with my friends.

The Vallecito Stage Depot, which is located in the general park area, was an important stop on the first official transcontinental route, serving the San Diego-San Antonio (‘Jackass’) mail line (1857-1859), the Butterfield Overland Stage Line, and the southern emigrant caravans. This was at least a full decade before the first transcontinental railroad connected the Eastern U.S. with San Francisco.

Little known outside the State of California, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park is a scenic destination with the town of Borrego Springs in the middle and near the museums and restaurants of mile-high Julian, California. To the east is the Salton Sea and desolate Imperial County.

Kumeyaay Indian Morteros at Anza-Borrego

The original inhabitants of the area were the Kumeyaay Indians, who also called parts of northern Baja California home. One keeps running into evidences of their habitation of the area on the park’s many trails.

Klaatu Barada Nikto

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At the UFO Museum in Roswell, New Mexico

It was the summer of 2017 and the temperature soared above 100° Fahrenheit (38° Celsius) every day. It was Martine’s idea to visit the New Mexico desert during the summer, and we both paid a high price for it in terms of discomfort.

One of the high points of our trip was revisiting the UFO Museum in Roswell, New Mexico. I’m not entirely sure that I believe in UFOs; but, if they exist, the Roswell museum does the subject full justice. Plus they have t-shirts to die for in their store.

Fear Not! I Did Not Enter Through the Exit

I have always enjoyed visiting dinky museums in small towns. I will never forget the Eastern California Museum in Independence, California, where there is on view a full set of coyote dentures for a patient who had no patience with local dentists. Martine and I greatly enjoyed BOTH Loch Ness Museums in Scotland: the Loch Ness Center and Nessieland. And that despite the fact that I do not believe the monster exists!

One museum I did not visit was the Iceland Phallological Museum in Reykjavík. Anyone who has driven in Los Angeles traffic does not have to go out of his or her way to see multitudinous dicks of every variety. And you don’t have to pay admission for that!

Road Trip

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Tortoise at the Santa Barbara Zoo

Because of all the rain we’ve been having, Martine and I haven’t gone on any road trips lately. Today, we drove to Santa Barbara, had a great seafood lunch, and went to the Santa Barbara Zoo. Unlike the Los Angeles Zoo, there are usually fewer than 10,000 visitors present; and consequently there is about 76% less chance of having an infant stroller destroy your ankles.

Mind you, there were many small children in attendance. But that is to be expected at any zoo. It’s one of the few places one can take one’s small progeny and allow them to act like kids without inflicting too much damage to the animals and other visitors.

We’ve been visiting the Santa Barbara Zoo for upwards of twenty years, so we were saddened to hear that the two Asian elephants, Sujatha and Little Mac, died in 2019; and the zoo is not planning to replace them. Instead, their large compound is now an Australian “walkabout.”

On the way back, we took the pleasant and very rural California 126 to avoid the usual traffic jam around Oxnard and Ventura. We stopped at Francisco’s Fruit Stand in Fillmore to buy some honey, strawberries, and mandarins. I was shocked to find that taking 126 and I-405 in Santa Clarita takes no more time and eats up no more miles than taking either the Pacific Coast Highway to U.S. 101 or taking U.S. 101 all the way.

Unfortunately, Martine was in considerable pain from a pinched nerve in the back that has been bothering her for several years and getting progressively worse. Unless she finds a way of ameliorating her condition, we may not be able to go on many more trips together.