This is as dark as it ever gets in Iceland in the summer. It's mental. Also mental is the Darlingtonian attitude towards the old pubcrawling, or runtur as it's known. I read in Melvin Braggs' The Adventure of English that Geordie is derivitive of Icelandic and that some al gadgies can communicate perfectly with Icelandic trawlermen when they dock in Newcastle. I like this concept mainly because it amuses me to have a different language than the shandy drinkers to the south but I can't see it myself. Not that I am a native geordie but I can't hear anything more than a simlar lilt of speech. The only understanding I have of the language I think comes down to A level German. Still, I feel at home here even though locals are way better looking.



Oh yeah. And this is so nice.