5:30 pm

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I whiled away the rest of the afternoon finishing my book over an "Arctic Berries" ale, feeling slightly more trendy in my vintage store acquisition. While waiting at the bar I spotted the delightful specimen of a man in a t-shirt stating "I am not your cousin". This is no flippant fashion choice; with an incredibly inbred population of 320,000, consanguinity is a danger faced by all Icelanders who want to reproduce - or even just have a good time: an app has been created from the millenium-old Landnámabók (Book of Settlements) to avoid accidental incest. When Icelanders meet someone in a bar they can now simply whip out their iPhones and check that they're not actually first cousins before heading home together, instead of getting a nasty shock at the rehearsal dinner.

I got so lost in Maya Angelou that I did not notice the hours slip away before my stomach did, and I made a rather miserable meal of pasta and whatever I could find on the free food shelf. The evening was greatly improved, however, by a cheerful Canadian and a French girl with a perfectly picturesque accent moving into my dorm, and we all headed downstairs to investigate the music video launch in the "gym and tonix" space of the hostel. The event was full of blonde people in large frames and long coats, and we arrived just in time for two glasses of free beer and the viewing of the video itself. Artistic nakedness involving shrill vocals and a very beautiful Nordic woman in lacy suspenders and nothing else. Plus a whole lot of paint. It's called The Backbone, by Rökkurró, and it's actually a fairly good song if you get past the soft porno part. The band were all present and we later realised that two of its members had been serving us beer - they were pretty big in Iceland a couple of years ago and are making their comeback. Tell your friends, y'all!

I haven't spoken French in a while so was self-congratulatorily proud of acting the translator for the evening. Felt suitably smug for the rest of the night, and then felt suitably horrified by my bank balance after booking a trip to the Blue Lagoon - but it can't be missed, apparently. This country will be the financial death of me.

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