Updated: Jun 21, 2020
First night living my own Reykjavik, this project I am starting to see Reykjavik through my own eyes, and no one else's. And writing about it.
The studio I have booked for a week is good enough for what I need: my own space and my own time. The only problem I see (I see it now, I didn't see it when I booked it) is that the only means of cooking is by no means a no way: a microwave. That lets me with few possibilities: feed on air, have dinner every two days or have three breakfast a day.
The windows are a little small, it looks a little bunker-ish, or more like a luxurious prison cell. The act that the only shower gel available was a Nivea for Men some other recluse forgot here doesn't help dissolving the feeling of masculinity that the 50 shades of grey in towels, bed cover and furniture is reinforcing. With this Nivea manly scent on me now, it feels like I am sleeping with my own masculine side...weird. I really hope I don't end up swallow protein powder and doing push ups looking at my triceps...Who knows...life is full of surprises. The sole fact that I am in Reykjavik now is a surprise.
My incursion on the neighbourhood, that I know because of the proximity with the Viking's, has been successful, with a supermarket at 23 minutes, a park at 5 and a fish restaurant at 2. Downtown is around half an hour by feet and...around half an hour by bus...As my sisters say: "For you, everything is 15 minutes away"...I will stretch time then :)
Good night for now.