Sindri's Great Blog Resurrection... Personal Computer's Fucked Up... Waiting For Trains... Desiring Beer & Going To Berlin...

It's dinner time here in Leonberg as I write these first words of a brand new blog, and the first question the reader might ask is... why in English? The reason is purely "economical", to reach a so called "wider audience". Although I have nothing but respect for my native Icelandic language, only around 320.000 people speak it worldwide...

For the last two months I have been living (and drinking) in the great ex-Nazi state of Germany. Southern Germany to be exact, in the federal state of Baden-Wuerttemberg about 15 kilometers west of Stuttgart. Since my arrival however, I've had reasons to believe that the third reich never left but just changed shape. That's another topic to be hopefully discussed later...

To the left of me are concentrated phone booths, two or three together. There is a woman around fifty years old babbling in a weird Schwabish dialect about something I can not possibly comprehend. The smell of booze and cigarettes coming from her direction is so strong that I have to hold my breath every time a fresh wave of smells comes my way...

Next to this woman who looks like a victim of a Hell's Angels gang bang is what I believe to be a Turkish man. Since I was a child I have been raised, as many others to control the audio level of my own bullshit. Meaning, in public and silent places such as internet coffee houses, to not speak too loud. This Turkish man is speaking uncontrollably loud, almost screaming but no patron of this coffee place seems to mind. As if it were normal. What the man is saying, who the fuck knows, who the fuck speaks Turkish anyway?

The only reason I'm still in this place is because I wait for a potential beer rendevouz at Irish Pub for half the normal price. But none of the companions answer my phone calls, so I wait and try to endure this ordeal of bizzare happenings. My thoughts are on the next few days, which involve Berlin and more beer...

Tomorrow at midnight, I will take a train from Leonberg to Stuttgart carrying my malfunctioned computer and a few more carry-on items. At the hauptbahnhof in Stuttgart I will wait for nearly five hours till my train leaves for Hannover and then take another train heading for Berlin to meet Thorsteinn, an old friend. Subsequently, I shall compulsively consume as much beer as I can possibly handle and try to enjoy the wonders of Hitler's old playground...

Finally, next monday, I will be going back to the frozen island in the North Atlantic I call my home. Christmas has never been a very joyous time for me ever since I was a kid, but who knows, maybe that child molesting fat bastard they call Santa will give me something worth getting molested for.