Brain Drippings (Blog)

July 16, 2026

The coolest thing I saw in Reykjavik was the Icelandic Punk Museum. It's built in an old underground toilet, and the entrance is a staircase down from a hole in the sidewalk. The walls are covered with old photos, memorabilia, and strips of paper (in both Icelandic and English) detailing the origins and evolution of punk music in Iceland.

I learned about many bands that formed and dissolved in the 70s and 80s after punk music and culture was brought over from England. Maybe the coolest thing for me, though, was all the old photos — groups of kids with leather jackets and spiked hair packed into school gymnasiums or parking lots or sitting on rooftops, guys onstage holding guitars, snarling at the camera or dressed in drag; someone with a smashed vintage fender which, it was noted, caused an outrage among audience members who would have traded all their clothes for such an item. There were even TVs playing grainy old show footage, resulting in a cacophony of buzzing, percussive strumming, and howling that shifted as you moved through the tiny rooms and corridors.

In the last and largest room, there were about a dozen pair of headphones dangling on cords from the ceiling, each labeled with the name of a notable artist mentioned in the previous rooms, so you could stand beneath each and listen, tethered, to a sample of their music. My favorites were the Sugarcubes and the Outsiders.

Speaking of which, did you know that Björk started out playing in punk bands and was first known as a punk musician? I didn't! The success of her band the Sugarcanes also resulted in the formation of Bad Taste, the Icelandic record label in operation to this day. I've never listed to much of her music, having always thought of her as more of an electronic musician, which isn't a genre I've particularly dived into. But now I'm going to listen to the Sugarcubes.

The woman working at the front (there was an entrance fee of $17, which might sound like a lot, but, believe me, is probably the cheapest tourist experience you can buy in all of Iceland) praised me for taking my time to go through the museum, and indeed, I did read every word. About ten other patrons did pass through during the time I was in the museum, most lingering for only a handful of minutes. I guess it is a novelty, and pretty cool looking, so some people just want to see it, not read all of the information. Being built in a bathroom though, as you can imagine it's quite small, so I still only was in there about an hour. There's something satisfying about a museum which you can actually experience in its entirety without becoming completely drained. When I told her I had taken photos of some of the mystifying Icelandic names and planned to look them up, she told me that the museum had a Spotify playlist. I felt as if I had passed a test and won secret information.

A beautiful Icelandic street! It was overcast and drizzling rain the entire time I was there. The kind where the entire sky is a muted grey glow and it's impossible to even tell where the sun is. I was mildly disappointed not to get to witness the trajectory of the sun overhead, and I "went to bed" (lied there sleeplessly with my curtains closed) around 11pm, so I didn't get the full effect of the midnight sun. I did check outside a few times throughout my sleepless night, though, and I did see the twilight period around 2am. I can confirm that it never got fully dark. I finally drifted off sometime around 3am, and when I woke up at 4:45am to leave for my trek to the bus terminal (see previous post) it was plain daylight again.

I can't complain too much about the weather (though I did get caught in a shower once and spent a few damp hours as a consequence) because I do love gloom, especially at the coast, and I know this is some of the only cool weather and rain I'll see on this trip. And frankly, Iceland is beautiful with misty fog wrapping around its edges and softening the light, though I'm sure it's something else in the sun. The 45-minute bus trip from Keflavik International Airport to Reykjavik gave me a glimpse of Icelandic scenery. The ground is black rock, and sections of it you can see used to be flat sheets which were ripped apart by volcanic activity and now bulge out of the earth at crazy angles, making dark crevasses between. At other points, the violent history of the landscape isn't so apparent — where the chunks have been ripped small enough and settled into a kind of wobbly pockmarked flatness, and spongy green moss caps crawl across the terrain. Other stretches of the drive saw crops of bright purple flowers crawling vertically up stems dancing in the wind.

Here I am posing moodily with my self-timer.

Reykjavik's famous church, Hallgrimskirkja, foregrounded by a statue of a viking gifted by the United States on the thousandth anniversary of the discovery of Iceland (according to the plaque). It's supposed to have the best view of the city from the top, but I didn't pay to go up. Organized religion ain't getting my money this time!

The door to Hallgrimskirkja.

I figured this was an old warehouse, but realized after taking this photo that it's actually the Reykjavik art school.

My walk along the shoreline offered many sights.

The exterior of the Harpa Concert Hall. You can walk inside for free, and admire the geometric walls up close.

In front of Harpa there was a little channel through which flowed water from an underground thermal spring. The channel flowed into a shallow pool, and the further up the channel the warmer the water was, and the more plant life lined the bottom. This is almost at the top, and the water was almost painfully hot, though it felt great standing in the cold drizzly wind.

Two men were filming what I can only assume were ads for motorcycle on two adjacent stretches of the port walkway.

The Sun Voyager, Reykjavik's famous shoreline statue modeled after a viking ship. I was surprised at how striking this was, walking around and viewing it at different angles. The effect is quite different when viewed on the backdrop of the austere sea versus the modern city of Reykjavik with its line of freshly raised sheet metal hotels. The grey gradients created by the curving steel photographed great on the cloudy day.

In my attempt to spend as little money in Iceland as possible, I bought some random snacks at Bonus, which is something like Icelandic Trader Joe's. I was amused by this "Mexican snack", which turned out to be rice crackers covered with that extremely artificial cheese powder.

I also managed to eat for cheap when, because the bakery was out of the pastry I asked for, the cashier gave me the display one for free. So in total, I only spent about 10 euro for food and coffee in Reykjavik — plus 9 euro for my airport pizza breakfast.

Here I am in my first hostel! I lurked in the dark to jump out and scare unsuspecting travelers.