I can reveal that the stories have not been exaggerated. New Year in Iceland is completely mental!
At 23:15, we put Eloïse in the pram, wrapped Lucas in the sling, and headed up to Hallgrímskirkja, the famous church located on a square where many of the side-streets heading up from Laugavegur converge. Many people head there to watch and set off their fireworks, so we thought that would be a good place to go.
People clearly can’t wait for midnight, because the sky was already incandescent a good twenty minutes before the witching hour commenced. The air was acrid with the stench of spent gunpowder. An ambulance crew carted off the night’s first casualty, who had probably fallen victim to beer, rather than an errant firework.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of Amsterdam on New Years Eves long past.
At midnight, all hell broke loose. I struggled without a tripod to take some usable photos of the mayhem exploding all around me. Fireworks are tricky things to photograph well. Eloïse and Lucas remained surprisingly calm as explosions shattered the night sky.
I couldn’t help but spare a thought for the people of Gaza, who, for days now, have also been subjected to loud explosions of a much more sinister nature. One can only hope that continued international pressure on the shameful government of Israel yields fruit sooner, rather than later.
But I digress.
As we headed home, it was close to 01:00, and people were busy piling into the city’s many clubs and bars for one of the all-night parties going on at most of the city’s nightspots.
In other news, protesters stormed our hotel this afternoon and disrupted the traditional annual broadcast that features the prime-minister and other politicians, discussing the country’s future in the year ahead.
People are pretty pissed off here by what has happened to the country’s economy in recent months and tempers are running high. Many are calling for the resignations of the country’s leaders and I can’t say I blame them.
We were walking across Austurvöllur when the shit hit the fan. Fireworks and other projectiles were thrown, the hotel was stormed and occupied, a policeman was hospitalised and a few protesters were arrested. Numerous people were squirted with pepper spray and dragged away by their friends. Video footage is now available at various locations around the Net.
I managed to get to the front of it all and take a few close-up photos of the police staring down the protesters. People were standing right in front of the police, calling them fascists, giving them the finger and spitting at their feet. The police kept their cool, though, and a full riot was averted.
The broadcast was forced off air, though, because the TV company’s cables caught fire and were damaged. The protesters thus achieved a major objective, causing massive disruption to the proceedings.
It was one of the more unusual things I’ve witnessed in Iceland. Like most things Icelandic, it was more low key than it would have been in another country. The police here clearly have less experience of dealing with public disobedience, which is refreshing.
Almost everything was closed today and it will be even deader tomorrow. Most shops don’t actually reopen until Saturday, giving people plenty of time to recover from the hangovers incurred tonight.
What a great day.