#100BM Day 80

Seems a shame to rush an entry about my last full day of vacation, but I have spent a lot of time in my hotel room today (mostly sleeping), so I feel like I should go watch the fireworks that start in about 50 minutes, since I’m not going to be able to sleep while they’re going on anyway.

It’s Culture Day in Reykjavík. I celebrated by sitting in a lot of cafés, taking photos, and getting intimidated by locals and tourists en masse alike. Here is a picture of one of the concerts, near Tjörnin:

And here is one not far from the old harbour:

That is a lot of fucking people considering the population of this island is only 326000.

Speaking of a lot of people for a very small island, I managed to do my 10K this morning with only some difficulty. It was my first foreign race, so the experience was a bit different in some ways:

  1. All but about three children along the route did not high five runners, but instead waved awkwardly or very occasionally banged pots.
  2. Adults were more likely to be making noise (they made up the bulk of the pot-bangers), but, in general, the crowds were fairly subdued, especially in the suburbs, though we did get serenaded by an elderly kazoo artiste and saxophonist (separately) on the same street.
  3. The runners often cheered when they saw anyone waving along the route, making far more noise than the supposed supporters.
  4. The streets of Reykjavík are REALLY narrow and because there were no staggered starts, it was hard to get around people for much of the race.
  5.  The end was just that, an end. There was water and everyone got medals, but there were no snacks or other goodies. Unless I wasn’t directed the right way.
  6. Probably not specific to Iceland, but this was the first race where I saw a group of boot camp people (wearing matching shirts) taking on extra challenges. Every kilometre or so, they would all do sit-ups, or a crab-walking exercise, or jumping jacks, or some other gonzo non-running thing. Of course, they were still faster than I was, despite these interruptions, so I lost track of what else they got up to.
  7. I have NEVER seen so many event shirts in a race. I always thought it was sorta poor form to wear a shirt from the race you are running at that run, but about 75% of the folks on the course had on their free shirt they got in their race kit.
  8. Karma is real. Not long after I got all smug about passing someone sponsored by the raw food restaurant in town, a dude wearing leather trousers sped by me, and not long after that, I spotted a woman ahead of me in hiking boots.

Things I learned at the Phallological Museum, AKA The Penis Museum.

  1. The founder of the museum really is obsessed. (He also was yesterday’s tour guide’s Spanish teacher).

    Mortar and pen-, er, pestle.

  2. Some animals with bacula (aka penis bones) include coyotes, many species of seal, racoons, badgers, and shrews.
  3. A lot of marine mammal penises are conical.


  4. The largest penis (bit, anyway) in the museum belonged to a blue whale. It is almost as long as I am tall, but is only about a third of the full length of the original artifact
  5. The smallest penis bone in the museum belonged to a hamster. It is 2mm long.
  6. People have had their weddings in the museum.
  7. The human penis donated to the museum was damaged on removal from the human in question, but other people are willing to give up theirs (post-mortem, of course) to, uhm, fill the void.

    One of three letters on the wall.

  8. All penises preserved in formalin look fucking gross.

Right, fireworks. Of the planned, rather than volcanic, kind.

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