Prologue
“I have things to do. (I’ve put this off for far too long...) I regret to announce... this is the end. I’m going away. I bid you all a very fond farewell. Goodbye.”
With these words, Bilbo Baggins used the One Ring for the last time and did his famous disappearing act.
In some ways, I felt like doing the same: disappearing forever from the life that I led before, without leaving so much as a forwarding address. However, I am not Bilbo and I am not yet 111 years old. I have things to do, but this is not the end.
After years of thinking and months of planning and preparation, I was finally here where I wanted to be, as close to the edge of the world as I could get without being in constant danger of freezing my balls off. Better still, I had rid myself of all superfluous physical possessions, lightening the load so that I can more easily travel at will to other places. Some things (mainly books) I have squirreled away with friends and family in case I need them again; if I don’t, most of them now reside with the people who can best make use of them.
‘Getting rid’ in some kind of meaningful way (as opposed to simply making a bonfire) was very hard work, and I could not have managed it in the same way without the help of my friend John and my ex-wife, Tineke. My thanks go out to both of them.
The impetus to make this step had a number of vectors. Since I was a child, I have wanted to travel to far-off places; to some extent, I have achieved that, having visited many countries from Chile to Turkey and from Iceland to South Africa. I have also lived for extended periods in the Netherlands and Italy. Despite that, I had the feeling that I had not made the most of these journeys, especially in my youth, and this left me with a hunger for more. The second vector was the realisation that I am, by virtue of my profession as a translator, in a uniquely privileged position. As long as I have my laptop, a decent internet connection and a reasonably comfortable place to sit, I can work from just about anywhere, earning my income as I travel the world. The third and most significant vector is the guiding influence of my god, Oðinn. I worship many gods and goddesses of the northern pantheon, but I regard High One (to give Him another name) as my specific mentor, for he is the god of travel, languages, communication and arcane wisdom. I can trace His influence all through my life, but it was in 2008, on my first visit to Iceland, that I put myself fully in His hands and let Him show me what He can really do.
So why did I begin with Iceland? The previous paragraph gives the clue. As a believer in the Old Gods of the north, I love to read and interpret the Eddas and the sagas. It struck me some time ago that I was at something of a disadvantage because I was reliant on the translations (into English and Dutch) of others. Interpretations varied, and I realised that the only way to make my own assessment was to learn Old Norse and immerse myself in the culture of a folk more removed from the Graeco-Roman culture that prevails in the west. Fortunately, modern Icelandic has not much changed from the language spoken here a millenium ago, so learning it is the logical first step towards learning Old Norse. I trust to previous experience and the help of High One to make it happen.
And so began this diary.