How to visit me, Iceland, in a flying machine

An inter-net page made by your friend, Iceland,
to explain a few things to you.

Step one

Find a good flying machine.

Halló. Because you are a clever human with a big brain in your head, you know that I am an island in the middle of the ocean. So even if you are very, very important, and your auto-mobile is a very big auto-mobile, you cannot drive to me in it. You just cannot do it. You will need a flying machine with wings on it. So look up into the air or go to an air-port. This is where the people who own flying machines keep them. Do you see one?

Step two

Go into the flying machine.

Find the door of the flying machine and walk into it (the flying machine, not the door). If a person in a uni-form tries to stop you, then show this person your flying ticket and say "I am a very busy and important human, and you must fly me to Iceland in this flying machine!"

Step three

Sit down.

Do you see a seat in the flying machine? Sit down in it, even though it is not very big. Say "what is the deal with airplane peanuts!?" to the Icelandic humans sitting next to you. (They will think you are very interesting.)

Step four

Have a drink.

Even though you are in a good flying machine with real seats, it takes time to fly to me. While you are sitting in your seat, talk to the Icelandic human next to you. Start by asking her "what is up?" (I have noticed that many humans like to say this.) Then say "So, what language do you guys speak up there?" She will tell you that she and many "guys" who live on me speak "Icelandic". Because you have never heard of this language before, you look surprised in your face and say "Really!? You have your own language!? I do not believe this! I believe you are shitting* me!" Then the Icelandic human will stop talking to you and look out the window. This would be a good time to have a sip of your drink.

*I do not know what this means.

Step five

Look out of the window.

Do you see many of my places? No? That means that the flying machine is not flying over me yet. Ask the person in the uni-form to bring you another drink.

Step six

Take a good look at yourself.

Is this all you are wearing? Don't you know I can be windy? Did you bring a lopapeysa? If not then make one. Þórgnýr will show you how.

Step seven

Say you are sorry.

Wake up the Icelandic human sitting next to you, and say you are sorry that you thought she was "shitting you", and tell her she must teach you how to say many good words in Icelandic, like timburmenn and töff and rokk and óvegur and sími and sex, so you can talk to clever Icelandic people.

Step eight

Look out of the window again.

Do you see any smoke?

Step nine

Walk out of the flying machine.

Only do this if the flying machine has landed. This is really important.

Step ten

You are now in Iceland.

Now you can jump around on me, and go to every single place on me, and listen to Icelandic bands that are not Sigur Rós, and make friends with my sheep and my horses, and say Icelandic words, and have a beer in the Blue Lagoon like Andrea, or the other lagoon like Romain, and go to bars on Friday night like Simon, or see a volcano like Sean, and feel strange and cool like @hypostylin, and look at Icelandic geysers that are not Geysir, and go to festivals with loud music in them like Iceland Air-waves and Aldrei fór ég suður, and fly over me in a small flying machine, and hitch-hike all over me like Steve, and see many fire-works, and have lobster soup like Julien, and say halló to Rán, and buy her book, and pick my blue-berries, and listen to rokk músik with your ears, and totally freak out, and let off some steam, and see if my Blue Lagoon is leaking, and worry that my girls are not warm enough

… and see my water-falls fall for you, and make moving pictures with me in them, and drive through me in an auto-mobile, and look at a drawing of me that Helga made with red fish in my sea, and go to Egilsstaðir because it’s far away and it’s fun to drive, and feel like you are on the moon, and surf in my ocean, and just keep calm and carry on, and get reminded of what it is like to be somewhere, and say good night in Icelandic to your friends, and take a nap in my moss, and look at my birds, and swim in my sea like James, and go on a honey-moon, and see my horses and their emo haircuts, and and take the best decision ever, and get some peace and quiet, and celebrate your husband's birthday (even if he is not famous), and walk around in my Reykjavík with the second most famous red-haired man who lives on me, and see a new planet every day, and almost get lost on me like Klara, and walk behind a water-fall, and fall asleep in my cemetery like Kai and Marcel, and see how my mountains spend their summers, and sail your ships around me, and jump into my rivers, and go down my hills on your bicycle

…and sit on a bench, and visit a big building that my people built to listen to loud music in, and learn the scientifical truth about tele-visions, and read a poem while you're walking over me, and look at cats on your inter-net, and understand how my northern lights are like human teen-agers, and drive around me like Violenn, and climb up my hills, and feel silly when my sheep look at you, and see space-ships in my sky, and visit my islands, or lie under a volcano blanket, and see good people play loud músík in their back-yards, and get a stamp in your pass-port, and see all your worldly possessions, and feel like jelly, and run into my water with caps on, and look at my mountains, climb all over me, and eat tasty homemade pies like Marjolein, and drive on me in an auto-mobile like Annie did, and watch the sun setting on me like Amjad, and rising on me like Alex, and eat the chocolate that my people make for you, and bicycle around me on a bicycle like Pete and Nick did, and see my midnight sun, and cross me like Alastair and Christopher did, and paint a picture of me like Kai, and just look at my ocean and forget about how busy and important you are.

And then, if you want, you can also tell your friends how to do this, too.