Gleðileg Jól!

I imagine Nordic countries tend to fight over the title "Christmas Capital of the World", but of course, being very partial, there's no Christmas like an Icelandic Christmas. Sure, we haven't really picked up traditions like turkey, foie gras, yule log, mince pies or whatnot, but we have our own very quaint and cute traditions that make the hearts of the Icelandic nation beat as one. After the mania of Christmas parties, overeating, overshopping and overstressing comes Christmas Eve, a day spent wrapping presents and delivering them to friends and family. At six o'clock sharp, the bells of all our churches ring in the official start of Christmas, and somehow magically big flakes of snow float down from the dark skies above. Those not attending mass gather round solemnly at their homes to listen to beautiful music, kiss each other on the cheek and somehow contemplate something bigger than ourselves, whatever our beliefs. It's a time when Reykjavík resembles a tiny village, where you know everyone is doing precisely the same thing at precisely the same moment, from singing a carol, to tucking into a delicious piece of wild ptarmigan or to opening presents in front of the tree. And then there's New Year's Eve, a craziness beginning at midnight when Icelanders send off masses of fireworks from their backyards, frontyards or just out in the street. Some tourists have compared it to a war zone but all have been literally blown away by what they consider "the total lunacy of Icelanders." In this issue we introduce you to our season's traditions as well as plenty more stuff: we happily celebrate the 80th birthday of outdoor label 66 degrees North, a great example of Icelandic innovation, utility and style. It's an Icelandic winter, so prepare for darkness and cold: get those candles lit, gather round with friends and remember first and firemost to stay warm. Happy holidays ! Anna Margrét Björnsson