The following book features a journey performed by a professional artist (as stated by the Icelandic customs, s.p. 68)

under the supervision of professionals (pagan gods).

 

Or how should an introduction to the book by Monika Fryčová be given? This book should come with

advice aimed particularly at those that think of travelling as an all inclusive booking package, featuring flight,

hotel and full pension at a beach resort somewhere in a vacation paradise: always the same, always exactly

what you expect, just stay in your lifelong doze.

 

Already the prologue with the dedication on page 3 is an ironic joke in parts. You might not doubt the two

individuals mentioned as being close friends of the author, but to find a dedication to AirBnB — seen as the

embodiment of an evil travel industry eroding whole cities and cultures — reads like a macabre joke in the

context of Fryčová’s travelling practice, which is an anachronistic anarchic adventure falling out of time, a

one on one encounter with strangers and places as she drives through Europe. To complete the statement

the reader finds a direct comment on the following page, with: ”My Apologies, I’m breaking all the rules on

my first Round”. Thus the mindset for both travel and writing is stated: no rules apply to her, she will break

them all.

 

That’s why no travel literature a la Huxley or Kerouac and whoever followed will

stick to her as a stereotype revelling in nostalgia. Even if all character traces

describing the clientel of alternative travel guides — those guides addressing a

certain kind of backpacking individual claiming to not follow plans, to not be tied to

time, to never think about driving home, to not shy away from inconveniences, to be

fluent in the local languages and to a striving for immersion in the foreign culture—

apply to Fryčová, she still has a plan. Because the back cover of the book reads:

In 2013 Monika Fryčová drove by Scooter from Iceland to Portugal and then back

again. She brought Icelandic bacalhau to Portugal and took Portugese Batata-Doce

back to Iceland.

 

As Sigurbergur is asked early on in the book, which by the way weighs as heavy as a

rock, if it would be possible to go on such a journey by Scooter, he replies: “Maybe,

it’s okay, you are artist, you can make everything.” Although, adding a relatively

realistic expectation to it: “Only you go very slow and maybe… you come after very

looooong time.”

 

To prepare for the journey the vehicle, its raider plus the fish get blessed by the

northern gods in a pagan ritual and Frčová receives a document by the Icelandic

customs to legally transport a pack of dried cod.

 

The rest is an astonishing journey on a small overloaded vehicle, described in a poetic

diary with hundreds of images and documents plus a fold out roadmap of over 600

Pages.

 

So don’t forget your travel insurance and buy the Book!