durrie (n): retard, munter, generally ridiculous person.

When I first told my sister that I was going to have a blog while I was overseas, her immediate response was:

'You should call it "A Durrie Abroad"'

I’m sure that she thought this would be funny. However, I wanted to expose my deep side, so I called it:

‘follow your feet’

Dyrhólaey

Ironically though, as I spend more time here in Iceland, I realise what a durrie I truly am. This week, through my very own ‘durrie’ moments (or moments of my friends), I learnt five things about the wind (other than that it cannot be photographed).

1.  The car.

The car is not friends with the wind. The wind kicked the door in.  Only $550 NZD damage. The wind must have been feeling generous.

Sólaheimajökull

Sólaheimajökull

2.     Rocky beaches

Are not my friend when the wind comes out to play. I went home with welts from where the stones decided to give me a high-five in the face.

Reynisdranagar

3.     Eyes

If you manage not to poke yourself in the eye as your hand goes flying past your face then I’m sure that your hair would suffice in doing the honours of blinding you for a 5 minute period.

A mountain somewhere

Basalt columns at the beach

4.     Running

My real ‘durrie’ moment of the day was when I stupidly tried to run perpendicular to the wind. The physics behind this is that the upwind leg gets transported downwind to exactly where your downwind leg should be placed, taking it out in the process. Result: you fall over yourself. That whole, ‘Walk, don’t run’ thing just got real.

Seljalandsfoss

Skógafoss

5.     Flying

Not really a feat of engineering at all. All that is required in this country is a sea breeze and a handkerchief. Unless you're a plane.

Plane wreck

If the wind doesn't make you feel like enough of idiot, try pronouncing the place names. 

So much to learn, so little time. 

Ironically, ‘A Durrie Abroad’ is actually quite an apt name.