15 June - Iceland & India

S., our favourite Icelander (after lady ms B) is in town and this time he’s brought his beautiful wife and another couple who tower over all of us at 6’4” each and another friend who doesn’t understand our sense of humour and takes everything said very seriously. We go for a drink, then for dinner (where we’re joined by soon to be ubiquitous new writing sensation M. And later by P. who’s organising Jarvis’ night at Meltdown and to prove her credentials to a doubting Icelander, shows him the Bono and Bob Geldof’s numbers programmed into her phone. Ah, but do you have Bowie I ask. She’s not in the mood for pleasantries as the line up is stressing her (no Annie L, no Bryan Ferry but Pete Docherty will be there and … others. Then we go for a drink. The evening reveals that Toph wants to buy an island off the coast of Iceland – though he doesn’t want to be there in winter - and I shoot back that I want to go live in India. Mmhh how are we going to reconcile these opposite worlds? For the moment we can avoid discussing as frankly it’s pie in the sky. With the diners at large we alight on the topic of toe sucking and who’s pro and against. The boy and I are in support, the others are not pronouncing their preferenes so clearly. There seems to be some doubt as to the function of toe sucking. But I won’t have anyone dismiss it if they haven’t tried it and not just the once. And yes, it goes without saying that clean feet are essential. Shame we all left at 1am when kicked out of a bar (I do rue my decision not to have any private club memberships) because another hour or two of drinking could have revealed all manners of other useful info. Who knows, if we end up in Iceland where everyone knows everyone and they have to rotate partners when they split up and stay friends with the ones they supersede, it would be good to know if they do something we don’t and vice versa.