Where do you apply for these?

Barker: “A human curiosity! A mystery of nature! A spectacle of wonder! Step right up to see the incredible Bearded Lady!!!” A barker’s job is to call out to passersby and attract costumers for such things as freak shows, sideshows, carnivals, circuses, fairs, theaters, etc. Perks include hanging out with oddballs and animals.

Fortune cookie writer: Time to spice things up a bit in this genre. “You will be bitten by a badger.” “A surprise party is being planned for your birthday.” “The owls are not what they seem.” “Remember to buy milk.”

Chandler: One who makes and sells candles. One of many charming old positions wiped away by modern-day ways.

Chimney sweep: Believe it or not, this is still a thriving industry, using the standard chimney brush and all!

Milkman: The face of nostalgia, and just like chimney sweeps these guys do still exist! In fact, I saw one in action last summer in England. A golden moment in my life let me tell you.

Crayola color-name creator: Banana Mania. Beaver. Bittersweet. Fuzzy Wuzzy. Inchworm. Laser Lemon. Jazzberry Jam. Mango Tango. Outer Space. Pink Flamingo. Purple Mountain's Majesty. Razzmatazz. Screamin' Green. Wild Blue Yonder. Somebody must be responsible for the various names describing the kaleidoscopic nature of Crayola’s products. Please let it be me.

Philosopher: Thousands of people graduate from this field annually, but where are they all getting employed?

Explorer: My absolute dream job. Can you imagine getting funded by a state to voyage to a terrain completely foreign to you, gathering notes, running into exotic creatures, encountering natives with unfamiliar customs and habits, maybe being gone for years, maybe never returning, but who cares as long as you’re experiencing the ultimate adventure.

Telephone/GPS voice: You will get the chance to speak to millions of people for a very long time to come, but with the added drawback of maybe becoming the most hated presence in everyday life.

Fantasy broker: Want to live in a ghost town? Be a stand-up comedian for the night? Have a pie eating competition with Heather Locklear? Sing the national anthem at a sporting event? Ride down 5th Avenue on a llama? Throw a party in a castle? Get locked inside a mall overnight? These real-life fairy godmothers can make it happen!

In-flight DJ: Who’s in charge of picking the music available on that handful of airplane radio stations? And how do I make that job mine?

Flag designer: This was actually the subject of a previous blog entry of mine (http://mousekevitz.livejournal.com/100014.html). I would love to design something as long-lasting as a flag, and besides, the majority of the world’s flags look incredibly dull and unimaginative, routinely recycling the same colors and patterns. As soon as there’s a new country, I’ll be all over it with some purple, orange and animal silhouettes.

Haberdasher: A dealer in men’s clothing. I want this job for the sole reason of being able to put that word on my business card.

Ufologist: Get a degree in physics or astronomy and then spend the rest of your life conducting research, doing field investigations, interviewing various close-encounter witnesses, developing theories, meeting real-life Fox Mulders, maybe getting threatened from time to time by middle-aged men in gray suits… I could do that.

Forest fire lookout: Nothing but wilderness and all the time in the world. The perfect job for the inspiring novelist. Downsides include chance of insanity. But hey, Jack Kerouac was once employed as one…

Lighthouse keeper: Same as above, except instead of gazing over a boundless forest, your vista would be an endless ocean.

Upholstery designer for motor coaches and city subways: I’m sure we can come up with something more tasteful than those random regurgitations of motely motifs associated with public transportation.

Whiskey ambassador: Yes, this is an actual occupation, one whose professionals are responsible for choosing the finest bourbons and teaching their clients the proper ways of tasting them.

Gum buster: This person goes around removing gum from various public places. So come to think of it, every time you mindlessly spit your gum out on the street you are in fact creating a job!

A while ago I designed this character profile in order to get more familiar with the characters I created. This is just me testing it out and mucking about. Suggestions for additions are encouraged. 
 
Basics
 
- Name: Gulla
- Age: Approaching 30
- Profession: Wordsmith, observer and a nostalgia scholar
- Ideal profession: Explorer, animal rescuer, astronomer, self-sufficient farmer, dancer
- Birthplace: Akureyri
- Current location: Stockholm
- Pets: Thelma (living in USA), Louise (deceased)
- Stuffed animals: Mýsla. My best friend and companion since birth.
- Hobbies: Dancing, analyzing film, planning trips and taking them, astronomy, cooking, making things (we can call it “crafting”), learning languages, playing games of all sorts, pursuing culture (both in the popular and pretentious sense), bike-riding, taking photographs, obsessing over the past, making lists for pretty much everything
- Clubs/organizations: Amnesty International and PETA, but my goal is to support anything and everything that matters to me.
- Schools attended: Snæló, Þeló, Breiðó, Austó, Gagginn, MH, FB, USM, Sorbonne
- Sports played: I don’t have a competitive nature, but I’ve been known to rollerskate, iceskate, cross-country ski, swim in every swimming pool in Reykjavík and some beyond, and is mini-golf a sport?  
- Transportation: Currently seeking bicycle.
- Race: “I ain’t white, I’m just light-skinned”
- Height/weight: 174 cm/70 kg
- Clothing style: 60s Parisian modette. Stripes, sailors, Jean Seberg and Bonnie Parker. And for shoe wear, Doc Martens and Converse. Basic.
- Hair color/style: Red and try to make it look like a cross between a 70s rockstar and an anime character.
- Eye color: Brown/green
- Piercings/Tattoos: None. I prefer my body au natural. 
- Bones broken: None. Physically I haven’t been very reckless in my life, but I’ve made up for it in most other avenues. 
- Allergies: None that I know of. I’m pretty healthy.
- Left/right handed: Mainstream in that category.
- Speaking style: I try to stay eloquent. Usually oblivious to new slang. 
- Languages spoken: Icelandic, English, Swedish, then some French, German and Spanish. Started deciphering Russian, Hungarian and a handful of others. My goal is Arabic.
- Zodiac sign: Libra
- Religion: Spiritual and interested in all religions, but follower of none.
- Political convictions: Now, in that domain I’m a lefty.
- Collections: Postcards (mostly film related), books, Converse shoes, ideas
- Relationship status: Married
- Family: Immediate family is very small (I’m an only child) but the “next level” (what comes between immediate and distant?) is a large collection of truly wonderful people, including many of my closest friends.
- Best friends: Hanna, Díana, Þóra, Tinna, Pálína, Tóta, Barði
- Idols: Oscar Wilde, Stanley Kubrick, Jarvis Cocker
- Gadgets: I stay away from those.
- Talents: Putting together words and food ingredients in a way that some people might find quite pleasing.  
- Ideal talents: I’d like to have some kind of a musical talent and I’ve always wanted to draw impressively. Becoming good at swing dancing and roller-skating is also on my to-do list. Archery and fencing skills would be desirable as well, and there’s a skateboarder inside of me eager to break out.
- Vices: Facebook, TV on DVD, chocolate
- Best/worst features: I have ambition and passion but sometimes lack motivation, which is just a really unfortunate combination. 
- Strengths: I can see the positive in everything and find the fun in anything. And I’m very open-minded.
- Weaknesses: I’m a slave of nostalgia and am in total denial that I live in the 21^st century (this fact is actually the only thing that truly gets me down.) Also, I have so many interests and goals to pursue that I become totally fragmented and never become remarkably good at anything.
- Likes: Trains, receiving letters, standing on soft forest floors, leafing through a heavy Atlas, idling in bookstores, kneading bread, learning neat words, jumping into a cold lake on a warm day, camping, being on a vacation in a foreign city and just lounge around at an outdoor café consuming alcohol and smoking cigarettes, petting animals, autumn leaves, farmers’ markets, flea markets, 60s “space age” furniture, girl scout cookies, picturesque villages, Sunday brunches, Absolut ads, water slides, lots of lamps instead of ceiling lights, coffeetable books, 80s movies, cheese plates, theme parties, looking through old photographs, cobble stones, tea and jazz in the morning, stripes, vintage Vespas and Volkswagen buses, creating things, gaining new experiences
- Dislikes: Puppets, reality TV, jock rock, homes equipped with dishwashers and dryers, paper plates and paper napkins, Wal-Mart, fast-food franchises, hypes, being late for the movies, cars, abbreviations, malls, movie trailers, gadgets (anything that starts with an “i” basically), bad spelling and grammar, poor geography knowledge, crying babies and whiny kids, taking a nap during the day and waking up when it’s already dark outside
- Hopes/Dreams/Goals: Visit all the continents; become self-sufficient; get a screenplay into production; write a few non-fiction books; learn how to make cheese, recognize most trees and birds, and how to read the night sky; become fluent in a lot of languages; knit a “lopapeysa”; build a tree house, gazebo and a cabin in the woods; go husky sledding and scuba diving; travel across the Atlantic in a ship; open up my own rural B&B, as well as my own “Cinema Café” (arthouse cinema with a café attached), and if there’s some time left, start my own magazine and perhaps publish a comic book.
 
Favorites
 
- film: It’s a tie between Shawshank Redemption and Amelie
- scary movie: The Shining
- comedy: The Pink Panther Strikes Again
- director: Stanley Kubrick
- actor/actress: A tie between Dustin Hoffman and Nicolas Cage, but also adore Steve Buscemi, Christopher Walken, Johnny Depp and Timothy Spall/Helena Bonham Carter, but also favor Cate Blanhcett, Julianne Moore, Toni Collette and Lili Taylor
- TV show: Twin Peaks
- TV channel: Animal Planet
- cartoon: Rainbow Brite
- music genre: Soul
- band: Joy Division
- song: Love Will Tear Us Apart by abovementioned band
- singer: Stevie Wonder and Otis Redding
- rapper: Snoop
- music video: Hoppípolla by Sigurrós and, come to think of it, pretty much everything else with Sigurrós. Always been a big fan of Just with Radiohead as well. Also, every single video from Franz Ferdinand’s first album.
- instrument: Clarinet, accordion
- book: Revolutionary Road
- comic book: Lucky Luke
- writer: Oscar Wilde, Truman Capote, Richard Yates, Vladimir Nabokov, and Bill Bryson for humorous non-fiction
- magazine: Smithsonian for text, National Geographic for images, Ready Made for ideas
- video game: Crash Bandicoot
- website: imdb
- artist: Edvard Munch, but also have an avid appreciation for Carl Larsson, John Bauer and Norman Rockwell
- photographer: Anton Corbijn
- food: Cheese
- meal: Mushroom ravioli with homemade pesto, prosciutto, pine nuts, and loads of parmesan
- cuisine: Thai 
- drink: Milk
- desert: Tiramisu, but if that’s not available then cheesecake, or anything with marzipan
- ice cream: Brynjuís 
- fruit: Cantaloupe
- vegetable: Sweet potato, pumpkin (just think America in autumn)  
- berry: Raspberry
- soda: Appelsín
- candy: Nói Síríus, Appaló, Sambó, everything icelandic basically + anything containing coconut
- alcohol: Pastis (usually Ricard)
- pizza topping: Anything involving cream cheese (most often pepperoni, pineapple and mushroom) 
- café: String (Stockholm)
- bar: Kaffibarinn (Reykjavík) in 1999, followed by Pop-in (Paris) in 2006
- restaurant: Silly’s (Portland)
- game: Croquet
- board game: Scattergories, Popppunktur 
- sport: I love winter sports. Nothing beats ice-skating on a frozen lake or swooshing through a forest on a crisp and sunny winter day, with a break for hot chocolate and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Also, I like watching the World Cup and rooting for the countries that never win.
- place: Forests
- country: Sweden 
- city: Stockholm and Paris for living; Manchester for life
- store: Design Torget
- animal: Cat, fox, and everything else
- flower: Lupine
- subculture: Mods, followed by Swing Kids and Beatniks
- fictional character: Fox Mulder possibly
- cartoon character: Donald Duck
- holiday: Halloween
- season: Autumn
- month: October (my b-day month)
- day of the week: Mid-week is good
- weather: Fog, drizzle 
- time of day: Fika time (late afternoon). I like the buzz of people getting together for a beverage after work.
- time period: 60s. And the Roaring Twenties seemed fun.
- subject: English and history in general. Most fun class ever taken was Astronomy 101. Best class ever taken was a sociology class on modern food culture, changed my life.
- teacher: Þorvaldur Friðriksson, my high school English teacher.  
- possession: A vintage dress I’ve had since I was 15 and does the trick every time.
- color: Green and purple
- word: Amalgam
- swear word: Eejit. Also most British swearwords in general.
- name (boy + girl): Lucius + Hazel  
- number: 6
- noise: Rain on windows at night, kitty purr
- smell: Fresh basil, garlic frying on a pan
- memory: Akureyri during my childhood. I used to partake in so many inventive leisure pursuits with my cousins, like this one time we designed and created a mini-park in my grandparents backyard, with a grand opening/grand barbecue party on independence day. We put weeks of work into it and it was awesome.
 
Firsts
 
- job: Placing plants into plastic pots for my grandfather when I was 11-12
- album bought: The soundtrack to the Icelandic film “Veggfóður” when I was about 12
- concert attended: Saint Etienne when I was 12 (wow, apparently a lot of stuff happened when I was that age)
- film seen in the theater: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs when I was 5-6
- trip to a foreign country: Portugal/Spain when I was 6 

I’ve always been one for toys. I had more than I could manage as a kid, and as an adult I’ve changed my home into somewhat of a nostaliga shrine made up of various thrift store findings in remembrance of my youth. Being an only child living with a single parent, I spent long periods playing in my room and these following items occupied most of my time:


Stuffed animals (preferably from Russ Berrie)


Playmo


Lego (my cousin Binni and I built a whole town once, and a cruise ship!)


Fabuland


Smurfs


Polly Pocket (I had this exact one, purple of course)


My Little Pony (those were a bit lame for my taste though, and I was never into horses, opposed to just about every girl I knew)


Fisher-Price Farm


Sylvania Family


Lady Lovely Locks


Monchhichi


Troll Dolls (they were kind of creepy though, not sure if I ever really warmed up to them)


Stickers (which I collected in heart-shaped Hello Kitty sticker books)


Erasers (I pretty much collected everything...)


Coloring books...


... decorated by Crayola of course


Electro


Memory


Wind-up fishing game


Viewmaster


Yo-Yo (the Yo-Yo world champion visited Iceland once and boy was he awesome! Everybody had a soda-brand yo-yo after that, I had the Fanta one (my soda of choice ever since childhood))


Snap bracelets

And let’s not forget the Japanese Sanrio cuteness extravagance:


Hello Kitty


My Melody


Little Twin Star


Tuxedo Sam

There’s always been something so fascinating about war and prison films that’s captivated my attention since childhood. The pure male bonding and comradeship, the lack of love stories and whiny women, the spiritual journeys and the philosophical musings they inspire, and the compelling tales that arise from such unusual settings, arduous circumstances and overall detachment from reality, so far removed from anything most viewers can identify with.

Here are my top tens for both genres. The Great Escape and La Grande Illusion actually connect the two groups as they observe both. And although One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is technically not a prison film, it obeys all the guidelines of the genre.

War


1. The Deer Hunter


2. Full Metal Jacket


3. The Thin Red Line


4. The Bridge on the River Kwai


5. Platoon


6. Saving Private Ryan


7. Apocalypse Now


8. Dr. Strangelove


9. The Great Escape


10. La Grande Illusion


Prison


1. The Shawshank Redemption


2. Cool Hand Luke


3. American History X


4. The Life of David Gale


5. Dead Man Walking


6. In the Name of the Father


7. Holes


8. Greenfingers


9. Lucky Break


10. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

I often reflect on how fortunate I was growing up during the golden age of cartoons.

The great thing about being from Iceland in this regard was that our TV schedule drew equal influence from Europe, America and Japan so you would sort of end up with a “best of” from the cartoon world (in fact, one of the most popular shows in Iceland came from Czechoslovakia). I remember getting up at 9 AM every Saturday morning because that’s when you could watch like three hours of non-stop cartoons! Weekend mornings and a brief slot before the evening news was all us kids got in my home country, rest of the time we were busy inventing some games and things, believe it or not. One of my fondest childhood memories is sitting with my cousins on my grandparents’ couch (having dragged it as close to the TV as they allowed us) on Saturday mornings and my grandfather bringing us cheese toast and hot chocolate for breakfast. Those mornings were rare as we lived hours apart and I therefore cherished them as much as the cartoons themselves.

The following is a collection of my favorites from back then (Icelandic titles in brackets, that’s all I knew them as my entire childhood).





Rainbow Brite (Regnboga Birta)


Raggy Dolls (Tuskudúkkurnar)




Il etait une fois....l´homme (Líf í nýju ljósi)
(This was a brilliant french show about what goes on inside the human body!)


Count Duckula (Brakúla Greifi)


Mysterious Cities of Gold (Gullna borgin)


Pat & Mat (Klaufabárðarnir)
(The Czech show I mentioned above)


Alvin & The Chipmunks (Alvin og íkornarnir)


Babar


Duck Tales (Sögur úr Andabæ)


Jem


Barbapapa (Barbapabbi)


Teddy Ruxpin (Bangsi Bestaskinn)


Gummy Bears (Gúmmíbirnirnir)


Maya The Bee (Maja Býfluga)


Woody Woodpecker (Villi Spæta)


Huxley Pig (Hlöðver Grís)


Bananas in Pajamas


Mighty Mouse (Magni Mús)


Postman Pat (Pósturinn Páll)
(This is what I love about England; when American shows were all about He-Man, Transformers and other spectacular heroes, the Brits came out with a show about a postman. And it was such a hit!)


Care Bears (Kærleiksbirnirnir)


My Little Pony (Folinn minn litli)


He-Man


The Wuzzles (Furðudýrin)


The Monchhichis (Monsurnar)


Nick Knatterton


Thundercats (Þrumukettirnir)


The Moomins (Múmínálfarnir)


Ganbare! Kickers (Kalli og Kýklóparnir)


Moero! Top Strikers (Skot á Mark)
(The Japanese clearly had a thing for football for a while there)

- Hearing foreign tongues everywhere around you and not understanding what anybody is saying

- Browsing through markets and grocery stores like they were museums

- Getting exotic stamps in your passport

- Unexpected experiences, often resulting from participating in things like couchsurfing, ridesharing or hitchhiking

- The absence of shallow and time-consuming entertainment such as internet and television

- The simple pleasure of having clean laundry

- Having lots of time to read books, often caused by hours spent on trains or buses

- Colorful currency that changes with every country

- Having a new map to pore over each time you arrive to a different place

- Getting inspired by the change of scenery and cultural climate


I’ve also found out that it’s best to travel in the fall for two reasons:


- It’s not too hot but still balmy and incredibly beautiful due to the assortment of autumn leaves

- There are not as many tourists around which makes the bicycling students and ordinary locals more noticeable



Backpacking 2008



Gamla Stan, Stockholm


Södermalm, Stockholm


Skansen, Stockholm


Fun in Skansen


In the beautiful countryside surrounding Stockholm


Strolling around the environs of Järna, just outside of Stockholm


Biking in Bornhom


The island of Bornholm


Budapest synagogue


Bathing in Budapest


Maramures, Romania


Local farmer in Maramures


Tuscan perfection


Chilling in Tuscany


One of Rome's many cats


Amalfi coast


Marseille


Enjoying boullibasse and pastis at a seaside restaurant just outside of Marseille


Provence


Paris


Backpacking 2010


Yorkshire Dales, the most perfect countryside in the UK


More Dales


The Lake District


Oscar Wilde hangs out in Dublin


Tartu, Estonia


Viljandi, Estonia


Warsaw


Birkenau


Traditional Viennese café


The Wachau, the Danube Valley's most beautiful stretch famous for its riesling wines


Surfers gather at this river in Munich


Neuschwanstein, a fairy tale come true


Gengenbach, archetypical Germany in the midst of the Black Forest


Heidelberg, an idyllic little university town


There are many things to admire in Heidelberg, this castle being one of them


Bacharach, a gem in the Rhine Valley


Berlin Wall


The DDR Museum in Berlin, the best museum in the world


Amsterdam


Brussels, comic book capital of the world


Lisbon


Rabat, Morocco


Souking it up in Rabat


Imperial Meknes


Just another day at Fes' souk


Marrakesh is famous for its many snake tamers


Mountains of spices and my dreams come true


The famous Djamaa El Fna square in Marrakesh...


... is bumping after dark


The ultimate Giza shot


Giza's family of pyramids


Giza locals


Those pyramids are quite photogenic


Valley of the Kings, Luxor


Wadi Rum, Lawrence of Arabia's beloved desert in Jordan


Ancient city of Petra, one of the "new" seven wonders of the world

In chronological order of my discovery


Doggystyle – Snoop Doggy Dogg
Everybody remembers that revelation of recognizing the existence of good music for the first time. Snoop Dogg inaugurated me into this new and exciting world. I was twelve and my one-year-older cousin had just gotten Doggystyle for Christmas. In my eye’s mind I can see us sitting on his bedroom floor, dressed in our finest Christmas threads, giggling over that little kid saying “I’m gonna be a motherfucking hustla”, and literally becoming teenagers in those 53 minutes. And I love the fact that Snoop is still schooling today’s youth on proper tunes.



Music for the Jilted Generation – The Prodigy
And from hip hop the musical route took me to hardcore electronic dance beats. I was just weeks shy of thirteen when I first saw The Prodigy live. This was at the height of the ecstasy/rave era and I remember thinking, as I bounced to the music in a state of boundless bliss, why anybody would need a substance to heighten their experience when there was music like this. Ten years later I saw them perform again, which evoked much of the same feelings as the first time.



Parklife – Blur
My music taste was pretty much tamed at the discovery of Britpop when I was thirteen years old, and has not changed much since. Having dabbled in rap and rave, I finally found my calling. In this new world I was introduced to horn-rimmed glasses, argyle sweater vests, Camden Town and Portobello Road, the revival of “cool Britannia”, and the three most beautiful boys on the planet: Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon (my number one crush at the time), and Alex James. It just so happened that these people became obsessed with Iceland around the time I became obsessed with them, resulting in a couple of run-ins and chitchats with my idols. Teenage years have never been this sweet.



Different Class – Pulp
Chief of corduroy wearing, spectacle bearing trend amenders and heirs of eccentricity. Jarvis Cocker inspired me to renounce the accepted small town culture I was surrounded with and dream of escaping to London. Around the time I met the boys of Blur, I met Jarvis and asked for a hug, to which he replied in his opaque Sheffield accent “go on then”. A few years later I did escape to London and it was truly wonderful.
A couple of years back I saw Jarvis live for the first time since half my life ago. He was still wearing big horn-rimmed glasses, which his graying hair had slightly overgrown, and he still looked as oddly attractive as ever. Jarvis Cocker will never lose his distinctive element, and I will never lose my veneration for what he stands for: The defeat of the ordinary.



Suede – Suede
Suede brought a bit of an edge to Britpop. While Blur were cute and poppy and Pulp were odd and eccentric, Suede spoke of heroin and homosexuality like it was a common thing (which for them it was). My favorite song for a few weeks of my thirteenth year was “Sleeping Pills”, a song about suicide and being high on Valium. Brett and Bernard made up the most fruitful collaboration between singer and guitarist since The Smiths’ Morrissay and Marr, and the Britpop world suffered a great loss when Bernard Butler, the genre’s most talented guitarist, stormed out of the studio one day, leaving years of yearning for a reunion in his wake.



Doolittle – Pixies
Having consumed the complete Britpop catalog, I found out about Pixies, which would become my favorite band at the age of fourteen and stay that way for years to follow. I used to dream of the inconceivable reunion and decided that if it would ever happen, I would be found in the front row, no matter where in the world it would take place. Incidentally, their first tour in over a decade was kick-started in my home country, and I believe it’s the only concert I have shed tears at.



Grace – Jeff Buckley
After listening to the roaring Boston rock of Pixies for years, I mellowed down somewhat and started noticing Jeff Buckley, who had recently passed away at a way too tender an age. Of course the fact that he was beautiful and died tragically just added to the emotions that poured out of my modest speakers and filled the room day and night, yes night because my roommate and I used to fall asleep to this album every evening for an entire winter. In fact, I got so infatuated with the talented musician that for a while one of my initial inquiries to a potential love interest was if he liked Buckley’s music. But I don’t think I ever met anyone who didn’t.



Songs in the Key of Life - Stevie Wonder
My introduction to the Reykjavik nightlife (which by the way is, or at least used to be, the greatest in the world) took place by the backdrop of Stevie Wonder’s ultra-agreeable voice. Blind from birth, Steveland Morris was just eleven years old when he signed with one of the most prestigious record companies in the world, Motown, where he earned the nickname “Wonder” from Berry Gordy himself after stunning the company’s founder with his vocal abilities. Half a century later and Wonder is one of the most successful recording artists in history, filling dance floors every decade throughout his career and getting generation after generation acquainted with genuine soul music.



The Queen Is Dead - The Smiths
And thus began my obsession with the great musical city of Manchester. Hate it or love it, but there’s no denying that Morrissey’s falsetto wail is one of the most recognizable trademarks on the indie music scene. There’s something so tragically charming about being a teenager listening to smart socialist pop and I wonder how many souls Moz has turned vegetarian. Long since an icon and the subject of many cultural historians and scholars’ work, Morissey’s melancholic melodies inspired every Britpop band I ever cared about, and he has probably done more for England than any politician has.



Känn ingen sorg för mig Göteborg - Håkan Hellström
Moving to Sweden opened up a whole new realm of music for me. Håkan Hellström was the hottest guy in any town; god how we loved him in his sailor suits and neon pink Converse shoes. Seeing him in concert was the highpoint of my young life (when seeing somebody live always marked a new highpoint), and I honestly don’t think I’ve been as captured by a live performance since.



Om Bobbo Viking - Magnus Uggla
You’d never guess that Magnus Uggla was a member of the Swedish nobility. Twenty year old, glam-rock inspired Uggla released his debut album in ’75, I discovered it a quarter of a century later, digging it for the insight it gives into Stockholm life in the seventies (when my young mother lived there) and for the fact that every song on the album is gold.



Is This It – The Strokes
My good friend Fía said it best when she stated “I’d do all of them, even him”, pointing at Albert Hammond Jr. on the newspaper clipping I was presenting her with. At that point, neither of us had heard their music, but they were already my favorite band. Luckily, their music matched their extreme good looks and kept me in kind of a hipster daze for years.



#1 - Fischerspooner
Moving to NYC presented me with yet another music genre: The surging and soulless sounds of electroclash, the music world’s most pretentious scene to date. For one glorious summer I partied with Felix da Housecat, Tommy Sunshine, 2 Many DJs and other rulers of the scene (my boyfriend at the time worked in music business and was a member of the inner circle) and man was their music monumental. I still think Emerge is one of the most powerful songs ever composed, never failing to produce goosebumps on a crowded dancefloor.



Quiet Is the New Loud - Kings of Convenience
Towards the end of my NY summer I hung out with Erlend Øye for a night and the following day I heard Kings of Convenience for the first time as I saw them live in some spectacular old church on the Lower East Side. I’ve been a fan ever since, not only of Kings but everything Erlend Øye gets involved with, which is a lot. Possibly the most gifted musician of the last decade or so and a better publicity for Norway than the fjords.



Franz Ferdinand – Franz Ferdinand
Thank Rod for bands that are both ridiculously attractive and ridiculously talented. Descendants of the art-school rock and intelligent pop scenes, disguised as sexy schoolboys clad in slim-fit French designer wear, demonstrating the freshest dance moves since Jarvis Cocker was king of quirk, FF was the greatest thing to come out of the UK for over a decade (or since Britpop faded) and the most stimulating thing to happen to music in eons. Needless to say, I was beyond thrilled.



Get Rich or Die Tryin' – 50 Cent
Who doesn’t remember my 50 Cent phase, seriously. From G-Unit t-shirts and henna tattoos to reading his biography in one sitting and devising a “rock, paper, scissors” replacement game based on the cover of this album, my passion was ceaseless. Fiddy was a world of guilty pleasure wrapped up in one tough gangsta from the shady side of Queens, and by the way, “In da Club” is still my cell phone ring tone. Some vices are hard to shake.



Deep Cuts – The Knife
My first visit to Sweden since I lived there and I already have a new favorite band. Eerie vocals and elegiac electronic beats combined with the mystery of the duo’s identity and their northerly origins make The Knife’s music eternally haunting. Deep Cuts was my introduction to the band and contains their disturbingly beautiful magnum opus “Heartbeats” but their darker and less poppy sophomore album Silent Shout is even more solid.



#3 - Suburban Kids with Biblical Names
I actually didn’t have to live in Sweden to get acquainted with my favorite contemporary band, but my friend Fía later told me that she was friends with these guys when I did live there and that we used to move in the same circles. Be that as it may, listening to their lyrics delivered in an adorable Swedish accent always fills me with fierce nostalgia and longing for my home of Stockholm. Unfortunately they’ve only released this one album, which has kept me occupied for the past five years, but I could listen to it for another five without tiring.



Closer – Joy Division
In 1978, the great late Tony Wilson, music mayor of Madchester, signed Joy Division to his brand new label, Factory Records, by writing out the contract in his own blood. He then paired them with the finest producer of all time, Martin Hannett, and thus began the creation of the best music I have ever heard. Centuries before, the industrial revolution was born in Manchester; Joy Division not only pioneered the post-punk movement, but started a musical revolution of their own, making Manchester the centre of the music universe. Unfortunately, only two albums were recorded by the band; fortunately the music they contain was delivered by the most skilled musicians since instruments were invented.
Last summer I made the long-awaited pilgrimage to this musical mecca of mine, where I visited the house Ian Curtis drew his last breath, and the spot where he was then laid to rest, as well as the legendary Hacienda nightclub (a Manchester institute run by Wilson, sadly shut down years ago) and the former Factory Records headquarters, now a nightclub owned by Peter Hook of Joy Division/New Order fame. Best weekend of my life.



Chet Baker Sings - Chet Baker
This is where I’m at today, sitting around drinking tea and listening to cool jazz of the West Coast variety. Chet Baker sure knew how to blow his trumpet, and continues to allure the ladies with his voice way past his departure date.

Revolutionary Road – Richard Yates
Never before or since has a writer a) so completely understood the complex dynamics of a long-term relationship and
b) been able to pen them so perfectly.



American Psycho – Bret Easton Ellis
Easton’s first person narrative, with its obsessive eighties pop-cultural references, makes Patrick Bateman one of the most memorable lunatics of the literary world.



The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde is my idol. His charm and wit will never be matched by another human being as he was entirely in a league of his own, and every sentence he ever uttered or wrote down can easily be entered in any “greatest quotes” book.



Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
Another hero of mine for obvious reasons as Nabakov was able to write in a language other than his own better than most writers manage in their mother tongue.



Watership Down – Richard Adams
A cross between Peter Rabbit and Lord of the Rings, this book is more engaging than anything else I’ve read.



On the Road – Jack Kerouac
The book that defined a generation and finally created some conflict in the suburban dream that kept America asleep in the 1950s. The beats were the subculture that influenced every counterculture that followed, and in the tone of the era Kerouac captures the mood of the time flawlessly in these 320 pages that allegedly were typed on a gigantic roll of paper over a drug-inspired weekend at the legendary Chelsea Hotel.



In Cold Blood – Truman Capote
Along with Richard Yates (see nr. 1), Capote is my favorite voice of the seemingly ideal society of the 1950s, and like Yates, Capote is also an impeccable author. With this book he invented a new literary genre, the Nonfiction Novel, proving yet again what a versatile writer he was.



Fight Club – Chuck Palahniuk
An instant cult classic, this might be the coolest book ever written.



Catch-22 – Joseph Heller
A hilarious war satire unlike anything else published on the subject.



Perfume – Patrick Süskind
Writing is all about appealing to the five senses, and never has anybody appealed as strongly to the sense of smell as Süskind does on the opening page of this book.



About a Boy – Nick Hornby
Hornby is the kind of writer you read in one sitting. An expert on pop-cultural knowledge, entertaining phrases and compelling prose, his characters never fail to hit close to home, no matter who the reader is.



A Short History of Nearly Everything – Bill Bryson
Bryson has the capability of turning the most mundane object into the most fascinating subject. This list might as well be composed of the fifteen books he has published, as he is the most amusing writer there ever was. I chose this one since it’s his most significant book, an absorbing educational tome disguised as a humorous non-fiction delight.



Easy Riders, Raging Bulls – Peter Biskind
The film-buff’s bible, written by the master of cinema history. As with Bryson, I recommend anything Biskind has published, but this book deals with a particularly interesting period: The seventies rebels who stood up to the stagnated studio system and created the independent film scene with the most important revolution Hollywood has seen.



Anne of Green Gables – L. M. Montgomery
My favorite books as a kid, which I still read with much regularity. The heroine is a quirky, intelligent, and imaginative redhead fascinated with books and nature. Sound like anyone you know?



Isfolket – Margit Sandemo
These are the books that constantly got me into trouble at school over a three month period (the time it took me to read all 47 books) when I was fourteen years old, as I either failed to show up for class due to an all-night reading session, or exchanged them for the dull textbooks that were meant to be open on my desk. The supernatural family-drama of the cursed Ice People (their story spanning half a millennium full of sex, sorcery, and all the other stuff that tends to capture teenagers’ attention) was the perfect escape, and never since has a book (let alone 47 of them) managed to occupy my interest with such intensity.

Twin Peaks
And just like that, David Lynch revolutionized television forever.
Think about it, before Twin Peaks you were watching Matlock, Rosanne, Cheers, Who’s the Boss, Golden Girls and a buffet of other mediocre and generic shows, but after Lynch’s introduction to the bizarre yet hilarious town of Twin Peaks, where the owls are not what they seem (or anything else for that matter), it was all about Northern Exposure, The X-Files, Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, Carnivalé, Lost, Deadwood and a number of other high-quality and ambitious TV series developed, directed and depicted by people who equally belonged in film business.
Twin Peaks proved that the American audience was ready to think and all of a sudden there were endless possibilities. Just turn on HBO or Showtime at any given moment and see the Twin Peaks legacy linger on in a medium that will never be the same again.



Freaks and Geeks
I have immense respect for Paul Feig for eliminating the stereotype from the hallways of McKinley High. Although his characters are neatly divided into the two subculture groups the name of the show suggests, there are constant crossovers and clashes as characters expose hidden sides of their personalities, surprising the viewer in every episode. Demonstrating some of the best character creation, funniest dialogues, coolest wardrobe and greatest soundtrack seen and heard on TV, it’s a scandal that this cult show was cancelled after just one perfect season.



Northern Exposure
If I could live in any fictional town, it would be Cicely, Alaska.
Possibly the smartest show ever made, with philosophical undertones and frequent references to literature and/or cinema, it’s a wonder that it lasted as long as it did (whole six seasons, while most of my favorite shows get cancelled way too prematurely after 1-2 seasons). Its success boils down to the fact that it demonstrated every element a good TV series requires: drama, comedy, romance, conflict etc. but presented those in a completely fresh and original way through one of the best character cornucopia crafted for the small screen. And I don’t believe TV writers have been this creative since.

A fun little footnote: A couple of years ago, Aaron and I visited Roslyn, Washington, the location the show was shot on, and this turned out to be the most perfect little town in the United States (and I’ve been all over the country let me tell you), situated in its loveliest state. It was like stepping onto a set, as the town hadn’t changed one bit since it was featured on TV during the early-mid nineties: The same old pick-up trucks lining the streets (which were already old when the show was made), the same restaurants, same everything. And amazingly enough, the town Twin Peaks was shot in was just down the road. A perfect TV paradise in the Pacific North-West.



Pushing Daisies
Brian Fuller is a genius. Pushing Daisies is yet another example of a great show that got cancelled long before its time (lasting just two brilliant seasons), but here the reason was that the fantastical storylines Fuller fabricated every week were simply too expensive to produce for the small screen (it’s not the first time a Fuller show got pulled off the air after a brief lifespan, Dead Like Me and Wonderfalls went the same way, which tells me that Fuller’s mind is simply too big for TV and he should venture into the world of film). Alluringly colorful and Amelie-esque, Daisies is as comforting as the pies it prominently features and its dreamlike qualities, tongue-twisting dialogues, and storybook-like characters spin a spellbinding world that extends far beyond the limits of television.



The X-Files
X-Files was THE show in my day. I can’t think of another show that created as widespread and long-lived a catchphrase, and characters that enjoyed such a cult status. In addition to this, X-Files was responsible for breeding an entire generation of geeks. Aaron and I recently engaged in an extended marathon where we acquired a whole new level of appreciation for this cultural touchstone of the glorious nineties.



Seinfeld
Another gemstone of the nineties treasure trove (you may have noticed by now that most great TV shows were generated in this particular decade). Solid throughout its nine seasons, Seinfeld reinvented the sitcom just as Twin Peaks transformed TV drama. I’ve also done a watch-a-thon of this lately and can report that this is one show that will never age, as the habitual antics of Seinfeld and co. are wholly in a league of their own.



The Office
When I first heard they were making an American version of the ingenious Office, I swore I would never watch it. But one day, not so long ago, I snuck a peak at one episode and instantly became a devoted follower. Do I dare admit that the American edition is better than the original, due to its flock of full-fledged characters, each more interesting than the next? The Office is not just a rollicking satire, but an earnest insight into the human condition and the unpredictable connections that transpire in our seemingly mundane lives.



Curb Your Enthusiasm
You’d think that Larry David (co-creator and writer of abovementioned Seinfeld) would’ve run out of quips after a near decade of the finest comedy writing seen on any medium, but far from it. Not only is he as humorous as ever, but has yet again created a groundbreaking television series, once more setting the bar higher for future funny men. (Plus, kudos for bringing the Seinfeld gang back together for a fictional 10 year reunion show!)



It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Speaking of the ludicrous and unusual. Loserdom has never been so cool, and neither has lampooning taboo topics, artlessly rendered over a pint of Paddy’s cheapest beer in the shady side of Philadelphia. Describing itself very accurately as “Seinfeld on crack”, Always Sunny is laughing gas in digital format.



Misfits
An amalgam of The Breakfast Club, Heroes and Pushing Daises, Misfits is the most refreshing show to hit the small screen in seasons. Howard Overman’s razor-sharp and streetwise script brings britwit and raised hormone levels to the current TV climate, which he then pairs with a smashing soundtrack and wicked cast, leaving the audience no choice but to surrender to this sheer brilliance.



Arrested Development
The term “dysfunctional family” gained a whole new meaning when the Bluths entered the screen scene, presented by a dream team of farcebiz’s finest armed with the most innovative comic material seen outside of Larry David’s domain. When the last laugh track has been silenced, only delightful absurdity will endure.



Scrubs
The only good hospital show ever to be televised. Scrubs’ winning formula is based on a rapid narrative, wonderfully whimsical characters, surreal daydream scenarios and often sobering observations delivered in Braff’s boyish voice-over.



The O.C.
Once upon a time I exchanged my life for this epic and emotional family dramedy. All of a sudden, Southern California was appealing while Seth Cohen blurred the line between hip and square, making geeks mainstream and desirable to the rest of the world, and for just that moment, popular TV became the countercultural rage.



Jeeves and Wooster
The dimwitted idler and eternal dandy, Bertie Wooster, and his resourceful and reliable valet, Jeeves, made a splendid pair, matching up like golf on a Sunday, fingers on piano keys, members of gentlemen’s clubs committing foolish pranks (often involving nicking hats from police officers), stern aunts on surprise visits, Gussie Fink-Nottle and his treasured newts, Tuppy Glossop’s naughty midnight snack trips, and the boundless shenanigans that defined this amiable relationship between master and servant.



North and South
Picture Patrick Swayze as Orry Main, wearing a cape and long hair, both fluttering in the wind as he rides his prized stallion through an avenue of moss-covered oak trees, on his way to West Point Military Academy where he will meet his best friend for life, George Hazard. Only problem is, Main is a plantation owner’s son from the South, while Hazard’s father is a steel factory owner from the North. You can envision the chaos that arises between the two families when the Civil War breaks out. Women in big dresses, mansions burning down in fires, the most dramatic theme song imaginable, David Carradine as Swayze’s arch nemesis, Johnny Cash as John Brown, evil officers, malicious sisters, fanatic abolitionists, slaves with hearts of gold, family secrets, forbidden love affairs, betrayals, duals, revenge and, above all, everlasting friendships are at the core of this best soap-operatic mini-series ever made.

If I could have any job in the world, I’d like to be an explorer. Unfortunately, the age for this profession already passed about a century ago when every blank in the world’s map had been filled by eager European adventures with the lust of being the first to chart undiscovered territories, and naming the landmarks that happened on their way after themselves or their beloved monarchs.

Of those, Richard Burton (not the actor) is somewhat of an idol to me. Burton was one of the first Europeans to go on a pilgrimage to Mecca and had to do so in a disguise and if discovered would've been killed on the spot. He was also the first European to enter the mysterious and religious center of Harar (in present day Ethiopia) where he was lucky to escape alive after being held prisoner for several days. Next he explored central Africa well before Stanley and Livingston arrived on the scene (in fact, the duo used Burton’s books as guidance). Between his famed expeditions he found time to translate 1001 Nights (aka Arabian Nights) and the Kama Sutra, learned to speak around thirty languages, was interested in all religions to the point that he became an expert but was a non-believer to the end of his days, mastered fencing and falconry, and of course traveled to every corner of the world. He was mostly intrigued by the odd and unusual, as well as the more unfortunate and lowlier natives of the lands he visited, never really blending in with the elite but rather seeking the company of gypsies, Bedouins, prostitutes, nomads, and remote tribes of all sorts. In the end he had written something around 100 books on his experiences, accompanied by sketches of what he witnessed on his travels, but always remained unappreciated by his contemporaries and is fairly unknown still to this day (resulting in the constant identity confusion with the actor of the same name).

But what Burton was best known for was his passion for the Middle East, giving him the distinction of being an advanced Orientalist, and that’s where mine and his admirations intertwine, for I am namely also a dedicated follower of most things Middle Eastern. Snake charmers, harems, mosques, mosaic, minarets, camels, sultans, turbans, souks, hookahs, hoummos, couscous, baba ghanoush, mint tea in small gold-brimmed glasses, coffee thick as mud, mountains of spices, oasis, olives, dates, palm trees, imams, khamsins, chibouks, burqas, sheiks, and Berbers are all things that could occupy my mind a great deal, and that’s just naming a few.

Then there’s T.E. Lawrence, better known as “Lawrence of Arabia”, who was doubtlessly inspirited by Burton’s countless odysseys. When just twenty years old he set out alone on a three-month walking tour of crusader castles in Ottoman Syria, during which he traveled 1,000 miles (1,600 km) on foot. As Burton, Lawrence was a polyglot and the two also shared the idealization of Syria, where Lawrence worked as an archeologist for a spell. However, he was of course best known for his alliance with Arab troops during WWI in the extended guerrilla operations against the armed forces of the Ottoman Empire, where Lawrence and his companions successfully drove back the opposition.

And finally to Gustave Flaubert, another desert devotee and enthusiast of the eastern way of life. At twelve years of age, Flaubert’s greatest wish was to become a camel driver in Egypt and lose his virginity in a harem. His native France bored him to no end and he had a lifelong obsession with the Orient, resulting in an extended trip to Egypt when he was in his early twenties, where he immersed himself in the customs of his most favored country. Flaubert was never content with being a mere European and he went as far as proposing a new method for ascribing nationality –not according to the country of birth or ancestral origins, but instead according to the places one was attracted to (needless to say, I’m a big fan of this theory). He felt that in adulthood we were granted the freedom to re-create our identity in line with our true allegiances, and although his body would remain in France, his soul would forever belong to the arid terrain across the Mediterranean.

That being said, I’m about to embark on a long-awaited journey in the footsteps of these great men, visiting Burton’s Damascus, Flaubert’s Cairo, Luxor and the Nile, and Lawrence’s crusader castles and the Wadi Rum desert with its Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Great adventures await!

A sample from my brochure writing. Please keep in mind that a) brochures consist of horrible writing as the ultimate goal is to sell and you're just expected to throw in a lot of adjectives and superlatives, only show what's good about the place and even exaggerate and b) the people we're trying to sell these tours to are middle-aged, small-town Brits. That being said, enjoy.


With its mosaic of natural beauty and cultural treasures, Sweden is a destination which should not be left out of your itinerary. The country is adorned with charming farmland and scenic beaches to the south, dramatic forests and vast tundra to the north, bustling city life and enchanting archipelagos to the east and west, and idyllic lakes and cosy cottages in the centre.

Connecting the two coasts is the Gota Canal, Sweden’s greatest civil engineering feat and most popular of the “Seven Wonders of Sweden”. A boat ride through the canal is an unforgettable experience and offers views of Sweden’s many trademark red and yellow timber houses and fetching castles, as well as the pastoral landscape that characterizes this ideal setting.

The unique “right of public access” allows you to enjoy countless activities for all seasons in the unlimited surroundings. Hiking, cycling, sailing, swimming in one of the many alluring lakes, fishing, foraging for those renowned Scandinavian berries, skiing, dog sledding, and snowmobiling are simply a sample of the adventures awaiting you. Just follow the lead of the locals you’ll encounter, as the Swedes have more boats and summer cottages than any other nation and truly appreciate their hard-earned holidays.

History entwines with nature in this land of Vikings and reputable royalty, evidenced by the World Heritage awarded Viking trade centre of Birka, the rich medieval island of Gotland, and the glorious Vasa war ship (another Wonder of Sweden).

Regarded as one of the world’s most beautiful cities, Stockholm is a capital built on islands and has therefore been dubbed “Venice of the North”. Nature is omnipresent in this town where water, green spaces and habitats each have an equal share of the area. The heart of the capital is Gamla Stan (Old Town), Europe’s largest and best preserved medieval quarter which will awe you with its story-book buildings and maze of razor-thin cobblestone streets.

Sweden’s ample and diverse cultural background contributes the botanic brilliance of Carl Linnaeus, the prize bestowing legacy of Alfred Nobel, the inspiring illustrations of Carl Larsson, and Astrid Lindgren’s genius storytelling which is an essential element of Sweden’s national psyche. The range of literature includes everything from the prolific writing of cultural icon August Strindberg to the spine-chilling thrillers of Stieg Larsson, and the cinematic tradition set by Ingmar Bergman has developed into a flourishing scene of modern film directors. As the world’s third biggest music exporter, Sweden boasts an assortment of famed musicians and bands from ABBA to contemporary rock and pop artists that have topped the charts worldwide. Sweden is also a leading force in art and design endeavours where glassblowing is king, the Dala Horse has long since become a symbol of Sweden, and companies such as IKEA and H&M are familiar in every corner of the world.

Engaging in festivities is yet another Swedish virtue. Whether it’s dancing around the Maypole and indulging in a spread of meatballs, herring and plenty of snaps at “Midsommar” (midsummer), or feast on freshly caught crayfish during “Kraftskiva” towards the end of the summer, Swedish celebrations are extremely social and common customs are valued above all. The café culture is another cherished leisure pursuit and there’s always time for getting together with a friend for a “fika” (a common term for meeting up for a coffee and pastry).

All this buoyancy, paired with one of the most equal social systems in the word, has resulted in the longest life expectancy in Europe. Spend any amount of time in Sweden and its spell will linger on for a lifetime.













Stockholm.


Gamla Stan.








The man who created the "Swedish style", Carl Larsson...








Mythmaker John Bauer...










Astrid's heroine.


ABBA


The Dala horse.


Midsommar.






Best snack in the world.

A sample from my brochure writing. Please keep in mind that a) brochures consist of horrible writing as the ultimate goal is to sell and you're just expected to throw in a lot of adjectives and superlatives, only show what's good about the place and even exaggerate and b) the people we're trying to sell these tours to are middle-aged, small-town Brits. That being said, enjoy.


Fire and ice are elements used to define Iceland, and are just one of many pairs of contrasts that characterize the country. Being the youngest terrain in Europe, geological activity abounds and earthquakes and volcanic eruptions have sculptured a panorama of volcanic beaches and moss-grown lava fields. Glaciers cover about a tenth of the island and include the continent’s largest ice caps. The colour is then provided by blankets of lupines, which fill the glacier-carved valleys and bring to mind the lavender fields of Provence. Throw in hundreds of majestic waterfalls and mountains dotted with grazing sheep, and top it off with the prismatic northern lights dancing above and you have the nature of Iceland in a nutshell.

Iceland is also the most sparsely populated country in Europe, offering an abundance of wild outdoors to explore, where geothermal energy thrives and hot springs, geysers and naturally heated swimming pools are a common sight. Imagine bathing in a warm well or a waterfall while surrounded by the allure of the vast wilderness. Ample adventures await: Diving, white-water rafting, climbing, sledding, snowmobiling, glacier hiking, whale watching, horse riding, and watching droves of migrating birds that meet in the middle from both sides of the Atlantic. All this can be a part of your Iceland experience.

A land of Vikings, Nordic myths, ancient sagas, and the oldest parliament in the world, Iceland has a strong tradition of literature and cultural endeavours. Icelandic, the language of the Vikings, is the oldest living language in Europe, and the nation holds the distinction of having the highest literacy rate in the world. This is evident by the myriad of bookstores virtually on every corner, and the country boasts a Nobel Price novelist, Halldor Laxness. Word wizard J.R.R. Tolkien was so enchanted by this tale-telling society that he sought inspiration in its folklore, resulting in many of the names of Middle Earth. Perhaps Hobbiton was shaped after Icelandic scenery as well – just a few generations ago, Icelanders lived in turf houses, many of which can still be found within the landscape and are open to the public. A visit to some of the many fishing villages around the coast gives an insight into the rich heritage of the country and in the summer months they really come to life through various cultural festivals.

But new conventions are replacing the old and today Iceland’s capital, Reykjavik, is a cutting-edge community on a global scale. More and more Hollywood filmmakers choose to use the country’s uninhabited vistas as settings for big budget projects such as Die another Day, Tomb Raider, Batman Begins, and Flags of our Fathers. The Icelandic music scene is nonpareil and every year hundreds of music followers flock to the ever-growing Iceland Airwaves music festival. The common ancestry is still cherished in many ways, exemplified in the fact that the oldest building in Reykjavik now houses a young designer store. Many cultural currents also tend to wash up on the shores of Iceland and it is not uncommon to hear reggae music performed by a wool-sweater wearing bunch.

Icelanders can also be quite quirky at times, taking pride in their thirteen Santa Clauses, each naughtier than the next but none as bad as their parents. New Years Eve in Iceland is not like anything else, where fireworks are available for everyone to buy and people become slightly manic in demonstrating who has the biggest and brightest rockets. This is after all a nation where people believe in elves, museums are based on the collections of eccentrics and enthusiasts of many things, and one of the best known celebrities titles himself “the cowboy of the north” and runs a country radio station in a remote village a shade south of the Arctic Circle.

The isolation and tough times of the past has created resilient and self-reliant people with innovative and individualistic traits. Iceland has a very small population (mere 300.000 individuals) where everyone seems to know each other and an air of camaraderie reigns, life expectancy is amongst the highest in the world, and, according to a recent survey, Iceland’s inhabitants are some of the happiest people on earth. Add this to the consistently mild weather and the midnight sun and your holiday will be one to remember.

A sample from my brochure writing. Please keep in mind that a) brochures consist of horrible writing as the ultimate goal is to sell and you're just expected to throw in a lot of adjectives and superlatives, only show what's good about the place and even exaggerate and b) the people we're trying to sell these tours to are middle-aged, small-town Brits. That being said, enjoy.


The world’s northernmost capital is an amalgam of small town charm and cosmopolitan flair. Reykjavik might be of a modest size but it certainly has a big ego. Youthful and intimate, its downtown is composed of colourful old timber houses lined along streets named after the Nordic gods. Those streets are then lined with cosy cafes and prime restaurants, designer boutiques and book stores in abundance, a wide range of museums, and swimming pools and hot pots where the locals gather for the Sunday gossip. The world renowned nightlife alone is a draw for visitors.

From the stately church of Hallgrimskirkja, everything flows downhill through the compact centre. The main vein is the lively Laugavegur, home to the majority of downtown’s businesses, while buzzing Skolavordustigur is a great alternative with its many art galleries and eateries. At the end of these you’ll encounter the up-and-coming harbour district where you’ll be dazzled by the fusion of seafood restaurants, independent shops, a flea market, and the maritime museum. Just follow the smell of the “world’s best lobster soup” at the Sea Baron (Saegreifinn), a down-to-earth fish shack run by a retired fisherman.

A brief ferry-ride will take you to the tranquil island of Videy, where in this pastoral setting you’ll find an abandoned village, public art by Yoko Uno, and a rustic restaurant in a historical building. The geothermal white beach at Nautholsvik and the salmon fishing in the Ellidara river, both a short distance from the town centre, are just a couple of examples of the surprises awaiting you in this captivating city.









The Sea Baron himself!

A sample from my brochure writing. Please keep in mind that a) brochures consist of horrible writing as the ultimate goal is to sell and you're just expected to throw in a lot of adjectives and superlatives, only show what's good about the place and even exaggerate and b) the people we're trying to sell these tours to are middle-aged, small-town Brits. That being said, enjoy.


Norway is one of the world’s most fortunate nations, both in economic and natural wealth. Stretching over landmass longer than continental Europe, wrapping around the tip of Sweden and Finland, and finally reaching Russia, the western side of the country is adorned with spectacular fjords that attract visitors from across the globe. This paired with the picturesque mountaintop views of tiny villages, tall waterfalls, stretches of glaciers, and the fact that the country is one of the most sparsely populated in Europe make Norway a pristine destination par none.

It is no wonder that Norwegians take much pride in their surroundings and are considered some of the most outdoorsy people on the planet. The “right to public access” allows you to enjoy the unlimited and diverse nature, and out of this active alpine setting skiing was born and introduced to the rest of the world. The name of the country does after all stand for “path to the north”, and as roughly a third of the country lies within the Arctic Circle, the area is dubbed “gateway to the Arctic”. This far up north it almost feels like you’ve entered a different world and in a sense you have as this realm holds the magical Lapland, home to the midnight sun, the magnetic Northern Lights, the ancient and intriguing Sami culture, and the largest population of Arctic reindeer on Earth.

The legacy of the Vikings and Norse paganism has left an endowment of fairy-tale like Stave Churches, distinguished by their detailed carved designs and counting among the oldest wooden buildings in the world. Nowhere else in Europe does the strong tradition of folklore and legends linger on to the extent it does in Norway where stories of trolls, giants and elves have survived the centuries. The impact of this cultural heritage emerges in the work of some of Norway’s greatest artists, such as writer Henrik Ibsen and composer Edvard Grieg who together created the monumental play “Peer Gynt”. And let’s not forget Nobel Prize winning novelist Knut Hamsun and pioneer painter Edvard Munch, their artistic donations dominating Norway’s cultural portfolio.

Being one of the greenest and most liveable cities in the world, the capital Oslo provides an interesting mix of architecture and leisure pursuits. The ravishing Flam railway will bring you to Norway’s most beautiful city, Bergen, an ideal starting point for a fjord cruise. Other notable cities along the coast include the historical treasures of Stavanger and Trondheim (Norway’s original capital), art-deco gem Alesund, and lively student-filled Tromso far up north.

At the end of the 19th century, Norway was one of Europe’s poorest countries, mainly consisting of farmers and fishermen, but the discovery of oil in the 1960s has made the country one of the most affluent in the world as well as one of the largest oil exporters. This newfound prosperity, however, has not changed the nation one bit: Norwegians have still kept their egalitarian outlook where elitism is frowned upon, modesty and honesty are strong values, people are individualistic and free of phobias, corruption is almost nonexistent, and environmentalism flourishes.

The recent wealth has made it possible to demonstrate these characteristics to the rest of the world and Norway consistently ranks highest of all countries in human development and charitable causes, is the most stable and peaceful nation in the world, and maintains one of the highest global standard of living. It is perhaps fitting that the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded each year in Norway, and it is not surprising that the country topped the United Nations 2009 list over the world’s best places to live. Pay Norway a visit and see for yourself.







The Flam railway.


The UNESCO town of Bergen.








Trondheim.




Munch happens to be my favorite painter.




You've got to make sure the "julenisse" gets his oat meal!


Not just a one-hit wonder!

A sample from my brochure writing. Please keep in mind that a) brochures consist of horrible writing as the ultimate goal is to sell and you're just expected to throw in a lot of adjectives and superlatives, only show what's good about the place and even exaggerate and b) the people we're trying to sell these tours to are middle-aged, small-town Brits. That being said, enjoy.


A labyrinth of lakes and inlets, Finland is dubbed “the land of thousand lakes and islands”, when 200.000 of each would be closer to the truth. In fact, 10% of the country is taken up by water, and a whole 70% consists of woodland, making it the largest forested area in Europe. All this in one of the most sparsely populated countries in Europe makes Finland’s environment virgin and the Finns more in touch with nature than their European counterparts. The Scandinavian “right to public access” makes sure that everyone can enjoy any part of the country when they please, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find a Finn that doesn’t have access to a cabin attached to the sauna somewhere in the depths of the woods.

The sauna originated in Finland in the 5th century and has been an integral part of the daily life ever since. It is used to cleanse the mind, rejuvenate and refresh the spirit, and the Finn’s have a saying that if the sauna can’t help, the illness is fatal. Another saying shows how holy the sauna is to the Finnish culture: “You should sit in the sauna as in a church.”

Legend has it that Finland is the home to Santa Claus, who supposedly lives far up north in Lapland. Another major element of the Finnish national psyche are the Moomin stories spun by Tove Jansen, Finland’s Astrid Lindgren and biggest claim to fame. Finland is also a dominating force in the realm of design and architecture and two of the leading names in the field come from Finland: Alvar Aalto, often called the Father of Modernism, and Eero Aarnio, author of the acclaimed Ball Chair. Music lovers will get their fair share in Finland as Sibelius hailed from the country, and Finnish tango is a beloved breed of its own.

There’s something quite singular about Finland. Having emerged a strong and independent country after rule by both Sweden and Russia, Finland is not quite Scandinavian, Baltic or Slavic but has created a category of its own. Everything is special about the country: The original Moomin family, the ground-breaking design and architecture, the unique language (a base for Tolkien’s Elvish), and the fact that it’s the only nation in the world which still broadcasts news in Latin.

The Finns’ long struggle for emancipation has led to an orderly society that solves its problems in its own way. Finland is one of the most stable countries in the world and a recent study named it the most democratic one as well. The “silent Finn” stereotype certainly holds its ground – nobody gets nervous if there’s a gap in the conversation.

This remarkable nation has somehow struck a balance between long hours of relaxation in the sauna and being a world-leader in technology (Finnish Nokia is the largest mobile phone manufacturer in the world). Add this to the assortment of quirky museums and the trendy capital, Helsinki, filled with architectural gems, and you won’t doubt that Finland is Europe’s most underrated destination and best kept secret.











Helsinki.




The Moomin clan.


Aarnio's Ball Chair, the greatest piece of design ever.

Black and Proud:

The Commitments and American soul music

Jimmy Rabbitte is a young man with a mission. Hailing from Dublin’s Northside, commonly known as the “slums” of the city, he spends his days dreaming about making it big as a band manager, eventually putting together “The Commitments,” a tribute band specializing in American soul music. At their first band meeting, where the group members are made to observe James Brown’s moves as an inspiration for future stage performances, Jimmy’s recruiters react to their new manger with doubt, debating their abilities to mimic the moves of the “Godfather of Soul.” “Do you not get it, lads?” Jimmy responds. “The Irish are the blacks of Europe. And Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland. And the Northside Dubliners are the blacks of Dublin. So say it once, say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud.”

In order to explore why Jimmy gives such a bold statement to his newly formed band, I am going to look further into how both Irish urbanization and Irish immigration to America and African-American migration into the major cities affected the lifestyle of the two groups, as well as examining the phenomenon of soul music and why it is relevant to the young folks that make up The Commitments. Lastly, I will touch upon the civil rights movement in Northern Ireland and how it was influenced by the African-American civil rights movement, as well as looking at the American influence on Irish culture in general.


Today, Ireland is one of the most prosperous countries in Europe and according to the United Nations it is one of the five best countries in the world to live in. It is therefore hard to imagine that just a few decades ago it was still one of Europe’s poorest countries, exemplified in The Commitments where Jimmy refers to it as a “Third World country.”

After the great potato famine in the mid-19th century, roughly a million Irish citizens emigrated from Ireland, mostly to North America. Around the same time, black slaves in the US were given freedom, which lead to “the great migration” a few decades later where millions of blacks moved to some of the major American cities in search of better opportunities. Needless to say, this melting pot of new arrivals caused tension and the Irish now found themselves reduced to the lowest level of their new society where they were depicted as hotheaded, old-fashioned, and drunkards. Furthermore, they were forced to live in crowded ethnic ghettoes and work at the least desired occupations where they competed with blacks for jobs and often times were made known that their presence was not welcomed with signs stating "NO IRISH NEED APPLY” and with nicknames such as “white Negroes.”

Back home in Ireland, their fellow countrymen did not have it much easier as Anti-Irish racism in Victorian Britain was just as strong as it was in the New World and, besides being considered racially beneath the British, Irish people had long been discriminated against socially and politically for refusing to surrender their Catholic religion. Cities grew in size as people flocked from the country in search for work, but in the 19th century Dublin actually entered a period of decline after having been the 5th largest city in Europe a century before. Dublin therefore did not experience the full effect of the industrial revolution and as a result, the number of unskilled unemployed people was always high in the city, where most workers were employed by the Guinness brewery and the Jameson Distillery. And of course Ireland as a whole did not benefit from the British rule their country was subjected to, where its citizens were not even allowed to speak their mother tongue, and for nearly a century Ireland was in a state of disorder, going straight from British rule to civil war, and later to decades of unrest in Northern Ireland where the IRA played a large role.


In 1908, Henry Ford, owner of the Ford Motor Company (established five years earlier) introduced the “Model T” automobile, a revolution in American car manufacturing. Six years later, Ford astonished the world by offering a $5 per day wage, which more than doubled the rate of most of his workers. At this point, the African American population in Detroit was 6,000. A couple of decades later, this figure had risen to 120,000.

One of those who relocated to Detroit was a man named Berry Gordy, the son of a freed slave and the father of Berry Gordy Jr., the founder of Motown Records. Young Gordy had, as so many others, worked at Ford for a brief spell, and while working there he consumed the concept of the “assembly line” he later applied to the music industry, making Motown the richest enterprise in African-American history. It wasn’t just that Motown was a successful black business, but an extremely successful company by all standards. In 1965, Motown Records (named after Detroit’s nickname “Motor Town”) was the nation’s leading seller of singles and is to this day the most successful independent recording venue in history.



But while Motown was an all black company (that is, run by black people who created black artists) its prosperity lay in the fact that its music appealed to everybody, black and white alike. In fact, Gordy emphasized success in white markets. Dubbing his company “Hitsville U.S.A.,“ Gordy made sure that his artists were homegrown from scratch. Across the street, Motown established a talent school that his artists had to go through to learn all the good manners a white person might expect to see at a swank nightclub. This paired with excellent songwriters, who wrote clean and unpolitical songs, Gordy had made a hit formula and managed to turn “race music” into “the sound of young America” with artists such as The Supremes, Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, The Marvelettes, Martha and the Vandellas, Four Tops, and The Jackson 5.

Meanwhile, the music scene down south was thriving as well. Talented musicians flocked from the country to the cities and blues, country music, soul, and rock and roll all came together in Memphis, one of the largest southern cities and home to Beal St., famous for its blues joints, Sun Studios, which begot artists such as country hero Johnny Cash and the King of Rock, Elvis Presley, and last but not least, Stax Records.

Interestingly, Stax was formed by white amateur country musician Jim Stewart and his sister Estelle Axton (the company’s name came from the combination of the first two letters of their last names) who at the time knew very little about “race records” except for the fact that they were selling well. A couple of years later, in the midst of the black section of the still very segregated Memphis, middle-aged housewife Estelle ran the hippest record store in town (Satellite Records), selling the hottest records to future Stax artists, as well as learning from her valuable costumers what was the “hot new sound,” while next door her bank working brother Jim was cutting records with some of the most successful soul artists in history. The two were highly regarded and respected by blacks in the town as the siblings never looked at skin tone but rather the tone that came out of the artist’s instrument.



Stax might not have been Motown in terms of how many records they sold, but Stax was still considered to be the true sound of soul, its rough and gritty bass lines creating that groovy southern funk that appealed more to black listeners, while Motown produced poppy melodies America’s white teenagers could bop to. This is interesting considering the fact that Stax’s team of musicians was very integrated, for example its house band, Booker T and the MG’s, was made up of two black musicians (Booker T himself being one of them) and two white musicians, and such integration in Memphis was completely unheard of at the time. Moreover, while Motown worked with a formula it applied to all its artists, grooming them into a sellable “product,” Stax gave its artists creative control and allowed them to be individuals, which in turn led to more diversity in the Stax selection of records by artists such as Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, Sam and Dave, Eddie Floyd, Rufus Thomas, and Isaac Hayes.

It is therefore intriguing to apply these two major soul music recording companies to the British Isles. When soul hit big in the UK in the 1960s (where the movement was given the name “Northern Soul”), it was Motown that reigned with the slick young mod crowd that took pride in their clean cut suits and were snobby about brand names and products associated with them, such as Italian Vespas. However, listening to the music performed by The Commitments, it is by and large made up of Stax hits and other southern recording companies, and the Irish Northsiders delivering the music are of course the polar opposite of the British mods, a much rougher crowd from the rowdy side of Dublin.


Although racial tension, discrimination, and housing shortages followed the migrations of African-American inhabitants to the grand cities of America, black people were perpetually a proud race and their strength was best demonstrated in the Civil Rights Movement that swept the country during the 1960s. Keep in mind that while Berry Gordy and Jim Stewart were cutting the best selling records in the country, black Americans had no representation in local and national governments and, until 1965, black people didn’t even have the right to vote. Therefore soul music and its success represented the power of African-American culture more than anything else and the music mirrored what was going on in the society at the time, namely the Civil Rights Movement.

Just like the blacks of America, Jimmy Rabbitte is not ashamed of where he comes from, and similarly he takes what could easily be considered his weakness, his background, and turns it into his biggest strength (such as embracing the group’s working-class surroundings by calling them “the hardest working band in Dublin”), just as African-Americans did when they created and recorded soul music. Soul music told the truth and its singers would use it as an outlet to express their feelings. The assumption was that the singer had experienced what he or she was singing about –therefore soul music can be found within the singer rather than the song— and that the audience could thus relate to the music and the story it told. Furthermore, while blues concentrated on the experience of failure, soul did the opposite – it stressed the ideal. It implied that life was not to be accepted as it comes, that hardship was not merely to be borne, but life was to be made worth living. Soul songs generally pointed out ways of improving the current situation, that there was hope and remedy for improvement, and lessons to be learned from unfortunate experiences, which could either patch up existing failure, or give a better chance of success in the future. In short, soul songs stated that the image of the future was a good deal better than the present.

Looking at this definition in the light of The Commitments, there are many similarities to be found between soul music and the band that chose to play those particular songs; in fact, the whole premise of the film is based on this connection. When Jimmy explains to the band why they should focus on soul, he states “Soul is the music people understand. Sure it's basic and it's simple. But it's something else 'cause, 'cause, 'cause it's honest, that's it. It’s honest. There's no fuckin' bullshit. It sticks its neck out and says it straight from the heart. Sure there's a lot of different music you can get off on but soul is more than that. It takes you somewhere else. It grabs you by the balls and lifts you above the shite.” And in the end, when Jimmy thinks he’s failed just because he didn’t achieve huge success with the band (although they were well on their way), Joey Fagan –the band’s spiritual guide and its direct connection to the world of soul— points out that “the success of the band was irrelevant - you raised their expectations of life, you lifted their horizons,” and with that single statement he captures the spirit of soul music and explains why it applied to the members of The Commitments. Because just like the blacks of America, the Irish were subjected to racism (although they were of the same race as those who did), were discriminated against (no matter what side of the Atlantic they stood), lived in poverty and overcrowded ghettos, and were not free to express their cultural identity, and it is therefore not hard to grasp why Deco Cuffe can deliver a near perfect rendition of Otis Redding’s “Try a little Tenderness,” while The Beatles never managed to put any soul into the handful of Motown songs they recorded for their first couple of albums.


The connection between the struggles of blacks in America and the Irish nation reaches outside of Northern Dublin as well. The Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association consciously modeled itself on the civil rights movement in the United States, adopting “We Shall Overcome,” the protest song that became a key anthem of the US civil rights movement, as a slogan in their own movement in the late sixties and early seventies.

But the American influence on Irish culture doesn’t end there. Several Irish films, such as The Butcher Boy and Into the West, make clear how important American pop culture was for the people of Ireland, and westerns, comic books, and popular music all play a big role in the lives of many of the characters in these films. Perhaps the reason why the Irish were so absorbed in American culture is because, like any impoverished country, they idolized America as a symbol of success, riches, and better opportunities. Then there’s of course the large Irish-American population to relate to and look up to. In The Butcher Boy for example, one of Francie’s teachers has a picture of John F. Kennedy hanging on his wall, a clear statement that he was regarded as a symbol of Irish success in America. Furthermore, considering the negative history the Irish had with England, it is no surprise that they would refrain from appreciating British culture and rather turn their admiration to the west. Considering all this, it is no wonder that Jimmy’s definition of failure is Wilson Pickett’s absence at The Commitments gig; it is as if Jimmy simply needed this recognition from the renowned American musician in order to keep on going with the band.

This admiration goes both ways of course. Most Americans dream of visiting Ireland, which has become somewhat of a promised land with its traditional images of green countryside filled with cozy cottages and cheery natives gathered at the local pub. This is well demonstrated in John Ford’s attempt to capture the cliché in his film The Quiet Man, just like his colleague Robert Flaherty did before him with Man of Aran. Both directors were able to trace their ancestry to Ireland and having grown up on the other side of the Atlantic their staged idolization of the Irish culture shines through in their tribute to Ireland, the motherland.

As a child spending time at my grandparent’s house in my little hometown up by the arctic circle, when not busy sneaking into the ice-cream my grandfather would always keep at hand for desert, or the golden syrup my grandmother perpetually had in the cupboard ready for bread making, or when not playing rummy with my great-grandmother who lived on the ground floor, I could be found in the attic leafing through one of many books hidden amongst my aunts discarded dolls, old family slides, and clothes bought in Southern-Germany in the seventies, when the family, including my teenaged father, lived there. I mostly recall a series of science books, such as “space” and “the human body,” with the types of illustrations and photographs that only survive in books such as these and would explain the inner workings of a beehive or show you the many moons of Jupiter.

Those memories all came flooding back to me when three years ago I moved to a small New England town and started going to yard sales on Saturday mornings, like so many Americans like to do. This is actually one of my very favorite American phenomenons: Being able to browse through unwanted items belonging to people you have never met, returning home with a box of what I consider treasures and they consider trash. I’ve filled my home with those trinkets: boardgames nobody has ever heard of, t-shirts to fairs I didn’t attend, and stacks of books that only exist in grandparent’s attics until they end up on the family’s front lawn where they are found by an appreciative owner.

Let me show you some of my favorites:


Aaron and I took the ferry to Peak's Island one fine day and came home with the entire collection of The Golden Book Encyclopedia of Natural Science after stumbling upon a stellar yard-sale during our wanderings.





Speaking of Golden guides, I've been collecting these pocket-sized gems since I moved here and have hunted them down all over the country from Portland, Maine to Seattle, Washington. The illustrations are impeccable and every time I spot one I feel like a girl scout of the fifties getting a birthday present from a favorite uncle.


Library book sales are also an exceptionally good venue for vintage valuables. I got the entire set of the "make it yourself" series (over 20 books) for the prize of a coffee cup when our library closed down for renovation...


... and I've picked these up here and there, respectively.


At the same library sale I got a box full of the Cultures of the World books I favor tremendously; I would get through one a day when I worked at the farm last year, using every break we got for reading.


This is the good stuff right here, the same stuff I devoured at my grandparent's over a toast with cheese and a cup of cocoa.


I remember my cousin owning this in a miniature form of three books when I was little and it used to be my favorite thing to pass time with when visiting. To my great pleasure I found this coffee table copy at the best used bookstore in town and I’ve had a blast getting reacquainted with these alleged gnomes and their behaviors and habitats. Fascinating stuff.


Okay, since I'm on the subject of books that are extremely exciting to browse through, I'm going to move on to a few newer ones but which still make me feel as intrigued as the eight year old me was, and that I can sit over for an entire afternoon when coming home from school to my habitual cup of tea.


Staying with the fifties kid theme, these can keep me occupied for hours at a time which is no wonder given the content hidden within their pages: how to make the greatest paper airplane in the world, tying knots, building a treehouse, making a bow and arrow, the seven wonders of the ancient world, making a go-cart, juggling, Navajo code dictionary, making invisible ink, skipping stones, coin tricks, marble games, how to whistle with two fingers, clubhouses and forts, how to be a spy, setting up a lemonade stand, handclap games, chemical experiments, shadow silhouettes, pencil and paper games, and so on and so forth…


Aaron and I stocked up on those for our big roadtrip last summer, along with a pair of binoculars identical to those my grandfather used to own, including the hard leather case lined with fuzzy red fabric. Huey, Dewey and Louie would be proud.


And this is for our attempt to bring nature into our backyard, our dream birdhouse is in the making..


I’m a sucker for the sixties and seventies, nostalgic for a time I didn’t even live, but I could however live on the set of 2001: A Space Odyssey, well or in that room on the cover of the last book, and I get super psyched over anything round (Eero Aarnio’s globe chair, globe televisions, Ewan McGregor’s bachelor apartment in Down with Love), lava lamps, and everything orange.


These books are the best, design and content wise. Delta blues, doo-wop, the yé-yé generation, krautrock, soft rock, and my specialties: soul, British Invasion, and Britpop, the French cinémathéque, the spaghetti western, road movies, Egyptian cinema, and dogma are just a glimpse of what they contain. Also, since they’re French like every other entry regards French culture, plus the games that break up the books are so neat!



As someone with list-o-mania on the highest level, I’m at-risk for collecting books of this sort. But man is the food one exciting. The durian fruit (so smelly it’s forbidden in some hotels), Sardinian maggot cheese (not for the faint at heart), Iwatake (Japanese mushroom that grows on top of mountains and takes 100 years to reach a feasible size), Himalayan pink salt (harvested from ancient sea salt deposits and believed to be the purest form of salt available), paasiaisleipa (Finnish Easter bread), rasgulla (colorful Indian confections made from milk), and ostrich steak are all things I’d like to sample at a lunch buffet somewhere, sometime.


My dream places beautifully summed up in these classic Taschen series. And just so we’re clear, Taschen is the creme de la creme of coffee table books.


Thank you Pocket Essentials for making all my little sub-culture fixations readily available in book form.


Yes, I am one of those people who watch History’s Mysteries, visit the Roswell alien museum, and wish Fox Mulder and the Lone Gunmen were my friends.


I devoted days upon days to this book earlier this year and planned several trips to Farawayistan as a result, trips that are actually about to come true very soon. I have therefore been packing all my belongings over the last few days, and I'll leave you to guess what took the longest to pack...