We might have to wait till tomorrow to watch Wales, but today we got to see Whales.
The Red Wall are well and truly filling up the city now. With only one more sleep till the game, the FAW have set up shop and are distributing tickets. Both me and me Megan have secured tickets for the game so we head down to the FAW hotel, grab our tickets and head for the harbour.
First fun fact of the day. There’s an old steam engine by the harbour. It’s the only train in Iceland. It was used to haul stone to create the harbour, which juts out a few hundred metres beyond the natural shoreline of the bay. There are no railway lines to be found anywhere else in the country.
We then head down to the ticket office to exchange our e-mail for an actual ticket to go whale watching. We are advised that the water is a bit choppy today and are given complimentary sea sickness tablets. An ominous start.
We then head to a harbour-front cafe for a coffee and look out over the harbour. There’s a variety of ships on display from whale watching pleasure cruisers and fishing trawlers to fast deridgible power boats for people who like getting wet.
No warships though. Fun fact number two. Iceland doesn’t have a navy. Or an army or airforce for that matter. They don’t feel the need to invade anyone and nobody really wants to invade them.
They are, bizarrely, members of NATO though. They are the only member of the alliance without their own military.
This lack of an army was one of the reasons it was chosen for the location of a very important meeting in 1986. The Höfði, a house in Reykjavík, built in 1909, is best known as the location for the 1986 Reykjavík Summit meeting of President Ronald Reagan of the United States and General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev of the Soviet Union. This meeting was an important step towards ending the Cold War. Within the building, the flags of the United States and the Soviet Union are cross-hung to commemorate the meeting. It is also, apparently, haunted.
Time comes to board our ship, I drop my pill (sea sickness, not Viagra, but they both help you stand up apparently) and we climb the gang plank. The sea seems fine til we leave the harbour, at which point it becomes quite choppy. My stomach is actually fine. I don’t know if that’s the pill or if I’m getting used to it as I get older. I used to get seasick going over to Caldey Island. Not any more.
While I don’t feel sea sick, it’s quite difficult trying to keep my balance. I’m mostly sat down, but on the odd occasion I get up to get a good angle for a photograph and it’s like being on the waltzers in Porthcawl. Up and down, left and right. How I managed to keep my apex over my base I’ll never know.
After half an hour or so the tour guide shouts, ‘Thar she blows’, or something like that. We all rush to the edge of the boat to see what she was wittering on about.
I’d expected to see some distant spout of water that you would need a telescope for. But, to my amazement, less than a hundred yards from us, not one, but two whales of the humpyback variety are playfully frolicking in front of our very eyes. I start snapping photographs, but soon put the camera away to just live in the moment. Megan sheds a tear. And this time, it’s not because of the bar bill. She hugs a stranger who’s also weeping with joy.
I stand back and find myself also getting emotional. It’s weird. I feel like I have just fulfilled a lifetime’s ambition. Even though I’ve never really had an ambition to see a whale.
The two frolic about for ages (the whales, not Megan and the stranger: that would be a different sort of blog). The tour guide is also quite excited. Apparently hunchbacks are solitary whales and it’s unusual, but not unique, to see two together. To cap things off, there had been snow overnight, so the mountains were pristine white. The images of the whales frolicking in front of the snow covered peaks will live with me for a long time to come.
Then we hit the on board bar.
I cried again. This time it really was over the beer prices.
Once back on shore we head for The Dubliner to take part in Happy Hour, then grab some food in our favourite (possibly only) vegan restaurant in the city.
After dropping off a layer in the apartment, we head out for drinks. There are several watering holes we have been meaning to try out but have been trapped in the Dublin Triangle all week. First pub we aim for is The Lebowski bar, a theme pub dedicated to The Big Lebowski movie. The sign on the door says, ‘please wait here to be seated’, which is the sort of behaviour restaurants indulge in, so we decide to give it a miss. Next up was Lemmy, a live music bar recommend by Black Elf in the Punk Museum, but it looks rammed, so we give it a miss. Eventually we find the legendary Irishman, where the pre-match fans party is due to take place.
The Irishman was lively, but not silly rammed. It was quite easy to get served. Looking around I don’t think there are many locals in da hood, it’s mostly Wales fans in various states of sobriety. We plot ourselves in a corner and a string of sociable people make themselves known to us. Including “Dean, The Hanging Fucker” who wants a 50th birthday shout out in the blog.
Not long after we are joined by Richard from Bethesda and Alyn from Tonypandy. We compare notes on how wonderful Iceland is. We discuss, amongst many other things, the history of the Balkans, the conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia and the nature of power structures such as religion and the way the ruling classes want to keep us divided. Then someone slides down the wall, a finger gets stuck in someone’s ear and a glass gets smashed. Just normal Wales Away behaviour really, all good clean fun.
Eventually we decide we want to see more than just Irish Pubs, so we walk down to a cool record shop we spotted on the first night with live music happening. It’s shut. So we go in the Drunk Rabbit. Yes, another Irish pub. It was empty when we walked in, just the barman, a bouncer and a lone musician at the end, singing and playing acoustic guitar.
Every time he finished a song we applaud, so he chats with us, talks about his trip to Llandudno and asks for requests. The passing crowds can see how much fun we are having and the pub soon fills up. This is good for the atmosphere but unfortunately, one by one, the taps run dry. When they run out of cider we decide this is the last resort and head out into the night.
We call into our local, The Dubliner, for a nightcap. It seems we are doomed to never leave the Dublin Triangle.
We thought the pub was unusually quiet, then they closed the karaoke bar downstairs, that we didn’t even know was there, and the bar fills with people from Bargoed, who then try to negotiate an extension on the opening hours. And fail.
No whales tomorrow, just Wales. (I thought that up on my own Richard, but thanks for suggesting it… actually it’s dreadful, I’m going to blame Richard).