We were very fortunate to have had two days with decent weather in Reykjavik. Today we are at sea in the Denmark Strait, going from Iceland to Greenland. It is gray and dismal again, but the sea is relatively calm with a moderate long swell that gently rocks the ship back and forth. P.J’s cold continues to improve and she is no longer queasy from the boat. Good time to reflect on our last forty days in Europe (I consider Greenland in North America, although it is politically part of Denmark).
It was interesting reading about the rise of populist and anti-immigrant sentiment, not just Brexit, the reasons for which are a little more complex. From some media outlets you get the impression that Europe is overrun with Middle Eastern refugees that are either on the dole or plotting their next terrorist attack.
We got a different impression during our travels. We talked to lots of wait and hotel staff, bus and taxi drivers. Most were not from the country they were living in. There was the Polish car rental agent in Edinburgh. Although happy to be working in Scotland, he found the Scots to be spoiled and taking their government benefits for granted. There was the young waitress from Saskatchewan who was just ecstatic to be living and working in Pitlochry, Scotland. Her colleague from Estonia was equally nice and spoke very good English. There was the third generation Turkish taxi driver who took great pride in being a Berliner. There was the Dutch hotel desk clerk in Berlin, who detected my Dutch accent. She spoke perfect German, Dutch and English, and probably more. There was a nice waiter in the Oxymoron restaurant in Berlin (forgot where he was originally from). There was a waitress in an Icelandic restaurant, who was originally from Chicago, had married an Icelander and had now been in Iceland for nine years. She learned Icelandic and spoke American English with an ever so slight Icelandic accent. There was the Slovakian bus driver in Reykjavik, who went to college there and loved living in Iceland.
Yes, there were delightful local and older people too: My young tour guide in Isafjörður, whose grandparents had lived in the abandoned area she was showing us, my older tour guide in the Shetlands, who used to be Lerwick’s harbor master, a young waiter in an Italian restaurant in Makkum, Holland, who taught himself near perfect American English without ever having been in an English speaking country; a very jovial waitress in a Dutch café in Enkhuizen and, in Doune, Scotland, the entire staff at Angelino’s restaurant. The grand prize goes to our rental house hosts, Colin and Fiona Graham in Doune.
But with the locals it could be hit or miss. There were some indifferent and near-rude service personnel, but P.J and I cannot remember a single one that was foreign born. So hear ye, hear ye, you westerners (you too in the US!) … if they are taking your jobs away, there’s reason for that! I think everyone should live and work in a country other than their own and feel what it’s like. It’s a good experience and it expands the mind.
Lastly my compliments to the Indonesian staff on our cruise ship, who are always patient and cheerful even when some of the travelers are not.