TRADITIONS
Christmas
e l u Y c i d n a l e c I g C elebratin The Yule Lads in Dimmuborgir in North Iceland welcome guests during Advent.
TEXT: Eyglo Svala Arnarsdottir PHOTO: Marcin Kozaczek
Christmas is only a few weeks away. Snow covers the Dimmuborgir lava fields. By the gate to the volcanic wonderworld stands an ancient fellow with a long, grey beard and wearing traditional Icelandic woollen clothing. Door Slammer leans into his walking stick and smiles through his beard as he welcomes visitors. Kids, warmly dressed for the occa-
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sion, laugh cheerily as their parents pull them on toboggans down the hill leading into Dimmuborgir. This is where the 13 Icelandic Yule Lads live. Every day from 1 December to Christmas Eve, people are invited to visit them here, learn more about their (bad) habits and traditions, and celebrate Yuletide the Icelandic way. I scramble up a rocky slope and into a cave where another Yule Lad carves thin slices from a leg of lamb and
offers us a taste of the smoked meat. This must be Meat Hook. His brother Gully Gawk is there too. He has obviously gotten his hands on a bucket of milk, for he smiles from below his milk moustache. I walk carefully back down to greet other Yule Lads: Pot Scraper is knitting, Door Sniffer is handing out crisp leaf-bread, and Sausage Swiper barbecues sausages over an open fire. Children are quick to gather around him for a bite. Ladle Licker believes it’s a fine idea
