Salon
German Electronic BandWell, it´s Easter Sunday in Reykjavik and yet, surprisingly, this cyber cafe is open, so I get to tell you all about my second night of clubbing.
Tomorrow I will be touring Icelandic nature all day.
I have discovered one area of the Icelandic economy where they do practice
tipping: strip clubs.
Club Odal (the "erotic club") was pretty bereft of people. I suppose a lot of guys were feeling too guilty to go out on Easter Sunday and look at naked women. I, however, had looked at enough naked men this past week that, well, frankly speaking, I needed this. I was also curious to see how the place would be vis. a vis. an American strip club. Well, the decor was very plush and dark, and in fact, reminded me of a Victorian brothel. I have to emphasize the dimness of the lighting since it was damn hard to see anatomical details in such low lighting. It was darker than the men´s showers, I can tell you that! I had no problem seeing anatomical details in the fookin´ men´s showers! (Sorry, it´s going to take a while to get over the trauma...so much back hair....) While I was there, though, I met a very lovely young dancer from Slovakia named Kiera. She has been in Iceland just over a month, staying with a girlfriend, and trying to earn enough money to go back to Slovakia and finish her studies. She´s majoring in economics. Personally I think she could be a model, but I guess it´s just easier to take her clothes off. She was very good at it---a lot of personality and playfulness. It wasn´t just about the pole. Oh yeah, they use poles here, too.
After about 45 minutes I left, because if I had stayed any longer, I might not have had enough money to pay my hotel bill.
The next stop was Pravda. It had an older and more urbane crowd than the club I went to on Friday night whose name I can´t pronounce. There were these guys with jarhead haircuts there, hanging out and dancing with these real beautiful women. At first I thought they were more American servicemen, but it became obvious they were European. I then imagined them as the sons of Russian gangsters in Iceland on holiday. I was bored and left.
The next stop was rex, which was not much more than a lounge. Red, velvety decor with low-lit chandeliers, couches and cushions. I left there soon as well. Fortunately the only cover charge I had paid so far was at the strip club.
It was fookin´ cold outside! A gentle snow was coming down with a chilly breeze blowing in off the North Atlantic at about two hundred miles an hour.
I´ll be very happy if I don´t catch a cold.
The next place I came to was called Salon, and here I had the most fun all night that did not involve nudity. It was peak hour (2-2:30) and everyone was going nuts. I was beginning to hear some of the same tunes from the dance floor at each place. Two of the current favorites here appear to be a down-tempo cover of "I Love Rock ´N Roll" and a more up-beat tune called "Island" (pronounced iss-land) which is how the locals say the name of their country. I found out from the drunk woman on Friday night that this song was Iceland´s contribution to the Eurovision song contest. It´s a very catchy tune.
For these people, patriotism means "let´s have a party", instead of "let´s have a war."
Speaking of the American military, I made an all-too-brief acquaintance with an American servicewoman at Salon who, like everyone at the American Air Force base at Keflavik, was celebrating her redeployment back to the U.S.
She was very happy that she was going home, but I´m sure she was also equally happy not to be going to Iraq. We danced to a couple of tunes, and then she had to leave with her friends. After trying to keep up with these people on the dance floor, I was tapped out. All Icelanders love to dance.
It´s the only place where I´ve seen as many dudes as women on the dance floor. It´s not unusual to see guys dancing with each other, like women do.
I should have stayed there but I decided to split as well. However, the wind was now blowing sideways, so I ducked into the next place I could find, a small watering hole. People were going nuts, dancing to Snoop Dog. It was too crowded and smoky, so I decided to brave the elements and head back downtown to Pravda to see if things were more happening than earlier. They were no longer letting people in, and the weather wasn´t getting any better, so I decided to run to the place I was at on Friday night. A group of guys were brawling across the street, which was the first time I´d seen any signs of violence among these people; but I suppose the effects of alcohol are pretty universal.
I asked what the cover charge was, and it was only $6. I asked who was playing and she said "a German electronic band." Finally some electronic music! Of course I got in just in time to watch the end of their set. It´s been that kind of week.
After they finished I left and slogged my way back to the hotel.
Today I slept.
As far as the clubs themselves go, I feel that Orpheus in Fells Point in its heyday was every bit as good as any of the places here, with one exception---the people. It´s the Icelanders themselves that make it such an intense experience. Had it not been a holiday weekend, and so blowing and cold, it might have been even more intense.
Icelanders are fookin´ nuts.
John
Tomorrow I will be touring Icelandic nature all day.
I have discovered one area of the Icelandic economy where they do practice
tipping: strip clubs.
Club Odal (the "erotic club") was pretty bereft of people. I suppose a lot of guys were feeling too guilty to go out on Easter Sunday and look at naked women. I, however, had looked at enough naked men this past week that, well, frankly speaking, I needed this. I was also curious to see how the place would be vis. a vis. an American strip club. Well, the decor was very plush and dark, and in fact, reminded me of a Victorian brothel. I have to emphasize the dimness of the lighting since it was damn hard to see anatomical details in such low lighting. It was darker than the men´s showers, I can tell you that! I had no problem seeing anatomical details in the fookin´ men´s showers! (Sorry, it´s going to take a while to get over the trauma...so much back hair....) While I was there, though, I met a very lovely young dancer from Slovakia named Kiera. She has been in Iceland just over a month, staying with a girlfriend, and trying to earn enough money to go back to Slovakia and finish her studies. She´s majoring in economics. Personally I think she could be a model, but I guess it´s just easier to take her clothes off. She was very good at it---a lot of personality and playfulness. It wasn´t just about the pole. Oh yeah, they use poles here, too.
After about 45 minutes I left, because if I had stayed any longer, I might not have had enough money to pay my hotel bill.
The next stop was Pravda. It had an older and more urbane crowd than the club I went to on Friday night whose name I can´t pronounce. There were these guys with jarhead haircuts there, hanging out and dancing with these real beautiful women. At first I thought they were more American servicemen, but it became obvious they were European. I then imagined them as the sons of Russian gangsters in Iceland on holiday. I was bored and left.
The next stop was rex, which was not much more than a lounge. Red, velvety decor with low-lit chandeliers, couches and cushions. I left there soon as well. Fortunately the only cover charge I had paid so far was at the strip club.
It was fookin´ cold outside! A gentle snow was coming down with a chilly breeze blowing in off the North Atlantic at about two hundred miles an hour.
I´ll be very happy if I don´t catch a cold.
The next place I came to was called Salon, and here I had the most fun all night that did not involve nudity. It was peak hour (2-2:30) and everyone was going nuts. I was beginning to hear some of the same tunes from the dance floor at each place. Two of the current favorites here appear to be a down-tempo cover of "I Love Rock ´N Roll" and a more up-beat tune called "Island" (pronounced iss-land) which is how the locals say the name of their country. I found out from the drunk woman on Friday night that this song was Iceland´s contribution to the Eurovision song contest. It´s a very catchy tune.
For these people, patriotism means "let´s have a party", instead of "let´s have a war."
Speaking of the American military, I made an all-too-brief acquaintance with an American servicewoman at Salon who, like everyone at the American Air Force base at Keflavik, was celebrating her redeployment back to the U.S.
She was very happy that she was going home, but I´m sure she was also equally happy not to be going to Iraq. We danced to a couple of tunes, and then she had to leave with her friends. After trying to keep up with these people on the dance floor, I was tapped out. All Icelanders love to dance.
It´s the only place where I´ve seen as many dudes as women on the dance floor. It´s not unusual to see guys dancing with each other, like women do.
I should have stayed there but I decided to split as well. However, the wind was now blowing sideways, so I ducked into the next place I could find, a small watering hole. People were going nuts, dancing to Snoop Dog. It was too crowded and smoky, so I decided to brave the elements and head back downtown to Pravda to see if things were more happening than earlier. They were no longer letting people in, and the weather wasn´t getting any better, so I decided to run to the place I was at on Friday night. A group of guys were brawling across the street, which was the first time I´d seen any signs of violence among these people; but I suppose the effects of alcohol are pretty universal.
I asked what the cover charge was, and it was only $6. I asked who was playing and she said "a German electronic band." Finally some electronic music! Of course I got in just in time to watch the end of their set. It´s been that kind of week.
After they finished I left and slogged my way back to the hotel.
Today I slept.
As far as the clubs themselves go, I feel that Orpheus in Fells Point in its heyday was every bit as good as any of the places here, with one exception---the people. It´s the Icelanders themselves that make it such an intense experience. Had it not been a holiday weekend, and so blowing and cold, it might have been even more intense.
Icelanders are fookin´ nuts.
John
No comments:
Post a Comment