![]() ![]() It's also a bit amiss to think of this as a road movie in book form, for it's over a third of the way before the unlikely pair set out. ![]() There's a matter-of-factness that comes from this book being purely immersed in Icelandic tropes – the dark black sand of the southern desert, the exceedingly short days, the accidental collisions with several kinds of animal… It's best not to approach this book as some kind of tourism by proxy, however – I can picture the very place they turn up in, on the SE corner, having spent the night in a place like it, but no names are given, no real features are identified. The lottery ticket and a loose end and a best friend stuck in hospital all conspire to make the narrator and said best friend's four-year-old son embark on a journey of discovery, all on the southern stretch of the ring road that encircles Iceland. And so an over-priced but miraculously accurate fortune-teller sets in process a narrative that provides for a very quirky read, with quite a bit of charm amongst the unusual. ![]() 'It's all threes here,' she says, 'three men in your life over a distance of 300 kilometres, three dead animals, three minor accidents or mishaps… animals will be maimed… it'll wet more than your ankles… it wouldn't be a bad idea to buy a lottery ticket'. ![]() Summary: An unusual Icelandic adventure for a young woman and her best friend's disabled son offers some kind of romance and some kind of humour, and a lot of some kind of quirk. ![]()
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