Volume 40, Number 1
Sojourn to Iceland
by Joe Fromme
Basically, life is what happens when one
is planning something else, so after all the
dust had settled, I found myself straddling
a fence, but finally had the bread, so racing off early one morning to Charlie
Brown’s Goodtime Travel on a mission
was a must. The mission was simple,
roundtrip, Denver to Reykjavik…get ‘er
done! The fantasy of saving my wife time
and inconvenience by flying out of Colorado Springs was brutally extinguished by
two inconvenient truths. Prohibitive cost
and unwashed masses coughing and talking in your face. That is what unwashed
masses do. I felt deeply this trip to be
special and it was.
FYI, I knew the airport currency exchange would be a rip-off but did not
want to land in Iceland with no Krona and
my bank needed more than two days’
notice. Pounds, Pesos, Deutschmarks,
Francs no sweat, but Krona? Not so
much. Strolling innocently up to the currency exchange window was eerily reminiscent of my experiences in the seedy
and filthy of Manila City, Philippines.
Ahh… that third world ambiance. Take
off was a relief. Helga managing Saga
Class with efficiency and quality service
was appreciated, and Icelandair 757
touching down in Kefalik Airport was
truly welcomed. Next stage of mission,
Operation Selfoss.
January 2013
Colorado Chess Informant
The human heart is
intuitive. The human
heart is therapeutic.
The human heart is
feeling and is never
wrong. When the
Flybus driver opened
the luggage door at
Hotel Selfoss, my
suitcase literally
bounced onto the cold
wet pavement. He
appeared nervous but
I smiled and said,
“Perfect!” This was a
good omen from the
Universe. This whole
process was meant to
be. That moment in
my life will never be
forgotten.
A slice of the Capital, Reykjavik
Proudly entering the reception area announcing the arrival of the President of
the Gentlemen’s Club Chess Club, Joseph
Archibald Fromme, Jr... and yes, I would
sign autographs later. Like bummer dude
because it took about ten minutes to confirm my paid confirmation. Apparently
there is bureaucratic dust even in Iceland.
Having my winter wear I would sleep
anywhere to accomplish the mission but
honestly would have paid twice if need
be. Being 10:02am, I had missed the
breakfast buffet by two minutes. I
laughed. The nice waitress did politely
mention she could still fix me something
to eat. I respectfully declined as this was
actually a gift to my
tubbo beer gut anyway. I unpacked, got
bored, hmmm, what to
do, what to do? In my
total haze of jet lagginess, I stumbled into a
taxi for Laugadaelir
Cemetery. Delivered
later, boom, there it is,
wow…there it be.
Our global traveler Joe Fromme, arrives in Reykjavik
Imagining all this
among green hills,
trees, blue skies, snow
and cold, no. Out in
the middle of nowhere,
white capped mountains in the distance,
farm land, horses, gray
sky, people actually
working and tending
www.colorado-chess.com
to chores quietly. The peace and beauty
of quiet. Only a black border collie with
the biggest smile ever seen on a dog
greeted me, granting me the privilege of
petting him forever. Eventually approaching the little white church, feeling the
tensing of muscles only felt when approaching a grave site of someone
missed. Respectfully and quietly crossing
the silver metal grate turning to my left
was the white marble headstone of Robert
James Fischer. A great man in a place we
all end up sooner or later. Serious reflection, paying my respects, I said what I
had to say. Regarding my own fate at this
time, feeling that in the end I could be
perhaps be an old man afraid of the dark.
However, this special moment lifted a
heaving burden off my conscience. I felt
good. I felt free.
Although the first twenty-four hours was
an adjustment, a sort of routine developed. Eat a large Icelandic breakfast of
fish, cheese, bread, fruit, orange juice and
strong black coffee. Walk all the day doing my Fischer thing, retire for a hot bath
(my poor feet), and of course, eat a fine
meal. Finishing off the day with Draft
Viking Beer watching Rugby was essentially heaven. Some attributes regarding
European rugby are worth mentioning.
The clock starts at 90 minutes stopping
only for a brief half time! The Referees
actually warn players about rough behavior like a father to a son. If a player continues, then essentially the Ref will say
something like, “Enough, like I said before lad, next the
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