Intent on walking up to Mokku coffee shop, I was in the hope of seeing Kitel one more time. Kitel was the local character I met a few weeks ago. Who should I run into on the way? It was the Icelandic John Wayne. I quickly told him I had an appointment. I aim to keep this year a positive experience.
So at Mokku, in the middle of enjoying a delicious cup of hot chocolate, in walks Kitel…a bushy bearded fellow with a devilish twinkle in his eye. He saw me and began to yodel. Yodel, well I think it may have been the sound he made when he played an Eskimo in the year he toured with a theater group throughout the U.S. about forty years ago. Fifteen minutes of fame can spoil you for a whole life time.
Then, he came over to me and began to sing. I left him singing his heart out and I headed to the Reykjavik Library and who should I run into? Yeah, him again..the Icelandic John Wayne. “Was your appointment with the Italian,” he asked?
I assured him that no, it wasn’t the Italian and that I had to look something up inside the library, so bye, bye. The Italian, if you remember, was the man who held him back during an altercation.
This afternoon, after a long walk, I sat inside the Paris Cafe enjoying a bowl of leek soup and had the best seat in the house for the entertaining, “Waiting for Godot” scene going on across the street on the corner. Two men, who I have seen before, begged for money from people walking by.
The men, one with a crutch and another with an alcohol wobble, seemed to be enjoying their conversations, while holding up the post office wall. When someone walked by, the one with the wobble would hold out his hat and ask for money. After someone walked by and didn’t drop any money in the hat, the men had words to say to each other, then they would giggle. One time, however, after someone walked by with a disgusted look on his face, and who must have said something that adjusted the humor of the moment, Crutches gave the guy the universally understood middle finger salute.
When someone, and it was most often a woman, dropped money into the hat, Crutches would put his hand out to his wobbly friend, for his share of the booty.
Little arguments went on for a few minutes and then they were friends again. One man I saw dropped two cigarettes in the hat, and they both lit up, which momentarily took their attention away from the main purpose.
I was happy for the ‘rear-window’ into the street theatrics.
Earlier, and what prompted my sore legs to sit down, was the long walk I took toward an area of the town I hadn’t seen yet. It was several streets with tall, aluminum-covered houses, and one of those was the American Embassy. A young guard, who called himself a ‘new be’ because he’d been on the job a short time, told me I wasn’t allowed to take a photo of the front, but if I walked a bit away, then I could do so. He enjoys his job and particularly likes his bosses, as he gestured upstairs to the office.
It doesn’t seem to matter how you walk throughout the streets, all roads seem to lead within eye of the Hallgrimskirkja, the large church, which is a great big landmark not to be missed.
My friend Gergo, is still in search of a place to call home and a job. I read a news brief that finding an apartment in Reykjavik isn’t easy, but he is determined.
Tonight, I should have some travel plans for the trip up north from Siggi. The top photo is the American Embassy and the bottom photo is an old building in Reykjavik.