Súrsaðir Hrútspungar - The cured scrota of rams, including testicles. Ram's testicles, pickled in whey, put in gelatin, pressed either into a cake with garlic, as a jam, or as a kind of pâté that tastes sour and spongy, with a texture reminiscent of pressed cod roe. Not bad if you don't think about it too much, especially in pâté form'.
OK, so every now and then I have these completely random thoughts that seemingly come out of nowhere. No one who knows me will be particularly surprised by this, nor by the seemingly completely random impulsiveness with which these thoughts emerge. As these things go, however, this one's a classic...even by my standards.
So, my 50th birthday is coming. Yes, it's still 20+ months off, but it's never too early to obsess over a number, right? So, this sets me to thinking. I should do something special, right? After all, the big five-oh is a big milestone- if you're interest that sort of numerological significance.
What to do? What to do?
And then it hits me....
I've always had a fascination for strange, out of the way places. I've been to Albania, for example...but I've gotta tell you that, unless you're into Communist architecture and wide, disturbingly broad boulevards designed as a monument to Enver Hoxha's immense ego, the country just doesn't present well as a potential vacation destination. Perhaps if Albania had a golf course or a Club Med, but abject Third World poverty and corruption just doesn't do it for me. Been there, done that, seen the rats....
After tossing some ideas around, it came to me: Iceland. I mean, how could you NOT want to go to a country whose delicacies include things like cured ram scrota, burned sheep's head, sheep's fat, rotted stingray, and rotten shark? Oh, yeah...and they have TWO kinds of haggis. Sign me up, eh?? Besides, Iceland offers two of the things I promised myself for my next international adventure- no snipers and no minefields. What more could a man ask for??
OK, and I suppose Bob would rather see me get a kitten, but I really do want to do something fun and unusual...and something no one else could possibly conjure up without the benefit of several Jagr bombs. The good thing is that I have 20+ months to put this whole thing together. Who knows, perhaps someone female, attractive, and fun will accompany me on my journey. A lot could happen in 20 months, I suppose, but this trip really is for my own edification. There are other ideas, of course (getting a tattoo, going skydiving, tap-dancing through a minefield, getting naked and horizontal with Maggie Gyllenhaal, jello-wrestling with the Swedish Bikini Team)- some of which may actually happen- but I need a goal. So why not Iceland? Now I just need to figure out how to make it happen...and if I should begin soliciting donations from my vast and far-flung readership?
Come on, admit it...you can't wait for me to blog from Reykjavik, right? Wouldn't you be willing to donate to the cause to make it happen? I know there are a few of you out there who'd probably like to send me to the moon on a one-way ticket. That's not likely to happen, so Iceland may just be the next best thing.
Hmm...I wonder what sort of wine goes well with cured ram scrota??
