Harboring Gluttony

Just a quick one, but worthy of mention. We were intent on eating infamous fish kabobs and lobster soup at Saegreifinn, a little shanty down by the harbor, recommended by Lonely Planet. By the time we actually found it, though, we were suffering from homicidal hunger (the colder weather and constant walking really having perked our appetites) and there was a massive line and nowhere to sit. Up the road a bit we saw a modern circular building resembling the pinnacle of a Jetson skyscraper, next to a street sign reading "Burgerjoint." And lo, it was indeed a "Burgerjoint."

Corner of Burgerjoint with harbor and mountains in the background. 

We opted for a quick fix here, although towards the end of our visit we made it back to Saegreifinn, and despite its very comforting, ship-cabin ambience, the food was minorly disappointing. The lobster stew, though I must admit was well-enjoyed after a day of trekking in the rain on Videy island, was a bit too brothy. We never tried the kabobs, partly because the site of dark, congealing whale meat mixed on display along with the fish turned us off a bit. Whale is served as a delicacy, though not without controversy.

Sitting outside of Saegreiffin.

Colin fancying himself a seafaring man. 

An old whaling ship down by the harbor.

We entered Burgerjoint and were immediately warmed by the Christmas lights on the ceiling (a touch that I believe makes anything cozy), a colored sky light and disco ball rotating to old-time American blues. We ordered cheeseburgers and fries and plopped down at a high-top table. Behind me to my right, a poster of a very young Johnny Cash was tacked up right next to a resurrection of the original Soprano family. Turning to the left, ETs finger pointed directly into my face. Back to the front and on the counter, donning Santa apparel,  Scooby Doo smiled at customers with his big white teeth. I was beginning to sense some sarcasm in the decor. I determined that this was less of a themed place than just a very bizarre conglomeration. And to top it off, lurking behind the counter, leering over the grill sporting his apron and instigating attitude was what Colin rightfully described as "your cocky burger flipper." But still, I seriously think this young, bleach-blonde Icelander was consciously acting the part. After all, he gave me a free coke.

Colin with an oddly disturbing countenance in "Burgerjoint." Must be the flashing lights. 

By right, the joint was speckled with Icelandic touches; above the counter hung downright weird pictures drawn by children, one of a walking hamburger. Another was a wavery sketch of a girl drawn four times, each with a different expression. I could only make out two: happy and sad. I don't believe I have ever seen such faces as were on the other two. I chaulked them up as lost in emotional translation.

One of the oddities that particularly tickled my fancy were the two books sitting at our table, "The Sea" and "The Universe." Colin took the latter, I the former, and I opened immediately to a page flaunting the skeleton of a giant fish. The title of the section, "The Story in Stone." Finally getting my basket of food, I started to read a passage.

Ninety million years ago a 14-foot fish, the portheus, attacked and swallowed a 6-foot whale. The portheus died almost immediately after the heavy meal to be transformed finally into a vivid fossil record of fatal gluttony.

I closed the book and and continued to eat my cheeseburger, which was indeed a good burger, as the disco lights flashed and reggae started to play.