Every now and again I decide to get the hell out of dodge and see what the rest of the world has to offer. And because I have been basically using the Nation as a diary for the past 5 years, I’ll post articles about what we see and what we do and more specifically what we drink.

If you want to read an article about the Edmonton Oilers Hockey squadron this ain’t it. If you want to take a break from the roller coaster of emotions and learn about Icelandic mega babes read on after the jump. Spoiler alert: you really do.

 

I’d heard that Iceland was a beautiful country from Nate Box at the venerable Elm Cafe in Edmonton. When it came time to vote on the destination for the annual "won’t have to spend money on Oilers playoff tickets" trip @thesquireyeg said "I vote we go to Iceland. It has been echoing in my brain for a year since Nate went."

And so it was that we came over to Reykjavik last week. And so far it has been an incredible time in a country that looks like GQ is holding an international model search in Middle Earth from Lord of the Rings.

The entire country has a population of 300,000 people – or roughly a third of Edmonton. And despite being that tiny and being in an incredibly remote locale the place is a super cool cultural mecca with Icelandic design, fashion and music at the forefront of things. Don’t bother looking for a Starbucks or McDonalds as we did – they have their own way of doing everything here.

Icelanders are a very proud people. In one cafe we ordered bottles of water and the server said "why would you want a bottle of water? We have the best tap water in the world. There is no pollution here at all. I will bring you tap water instead."

And this is the tip of the proverbial iceberg of what Icelanders are proud about – and there are a great many things indeed that have blown our minds so far.

 

Now your ol’ pal Wanye has been known to have the odd drink now and again in the odd nightclub while trying his luck with the odd babe (see years 2007-present) We didn’t really have any frame of reference for what to expect an Icelandic Bar to be like.

Would it be men with beards smashing back mead and clanging swords? Would all one would hear be crazy foreign house music in an unintelligible dialect of some sort? Would they know what a "beer" is?

Turns out that Iceland nightlife is pretty awesome indeed. None of the bars are that big – max capacity about 100 tops from what we have seen. But every place has a live DJ or band and the music scene is about as varied as one could hope to find anywhere. 

Our particular favourite is the oldest cafe in Rekjavik called Prikid which impossibly doubles as Iceland’s best hip hop bar at night. We have never heard better mashups or more music from our iPod played in a bar in our entire life. There is something particularly thrilling about watching Hipster Icelandic babes dancing to Rick Ross that cannot be accurately put down on electronic paper.

And this brings us to the babes here.

They are so classy and so hipster – speaking perfect English but still retaining a sexy accent. With the exception of Canadian girls – who I still say are the hottest on Earth – the womens of the Iceland are the babest babes in all of babedom.

Apparently the Vikings used to steal the hottest girls from whatever town they had happened to sack as part of their Viking loot. Multiply that by a pretty good Viking record on the road for about 1000 years straight and you have created a rock solid foundation for a world class gene pool of hotties.

Now there are some drawbacks. There is a database of Icelandic family trees that people here will access when they meet a new romantic interest. The population is so small and immigration so rare that you literally have to look up the new girl you met to see if you are related.

The mystical Viking super babe that told us this story said she knew several people who found out they should stay away from people because they were third cousins or some such thing. And not only iss she a L’il Wayne loving DJ over here but a former Miss Iceland competitor to boot. So basically she could have sold us the Brooklyn Bridge and we would have handed over the entire contents of our wallet with nothing but a dopey smile.*

Which lead to your ol’ pal Wanye giving this old line a go: "Well then I’m fresh genetic material. I bet we aren’t even seventh cousins!"

The next leg of our trip will involve meeting up with the legendary Sam Brown – the newest resident of Wanye Manor – in Copenhagen for a few days then off to Amsterdam.

Poor Sam has recently arranged a multi year work visa following his retirement from the Morningside Panthers and is seeking his fortune in Edmonton. Instead we twisted his arm and made him leave a mere 8 days after he arrived to spend money in Europe.

Will he survive? Only time will tell.

If you are interested in these shennanigans and want to follow along in real time follow us on the twitter and instagram. 

Oh and please Oilers. Make a show of the playoff drive. Some of us still live and die with your every move and are streaming the games in the middle of the bloody night and could do with a better effort than a 3-0 thrashing at the hands of the Blues.