Andie Sophia Fontaine is a journalist, writer, and Trans Iceland board member living in Reykjavík. Originally from Baltimore, she has lived in Iceland since 1999. She is the only openly trans journalist in Iceland, and has written for the Grapevine since 2003. Here is what her perfect day in Reykjavík would comprise.
First thing in the morning
I wake up when I feel like it, as I never have to set my alarm for anything. Coffee—and by that I mean French press coffee with raw honey and almond/hazelnut milk—and a giant spread of fruits and vegan pastries are already spread out on the kitchen table waiting for me. I enjoy my breakfast at a leisurely pace while scrolling Twitter. Everyone is talking about how Elon Musk lost control of the platform, which is now owned by Beyoncé. After a good chuckle, I get dressed and put on my makeup. My outfit is perfect, my body looks great in it, and my face looks fresh and appealing.
It’s a gorgeous day in the city. Not a cloud in the sky, no wind, and it’s a balmy 15°C. My daughter and I head downtown, where every street is car-free; only pedestrians, cyclists, and scooter-riders comprise the traffic of downtown. Shops are open and flourishing. As Iceland’s socialist government has abolished money, I walk into a takeaway place and simply ask for a nice steaming hot bowl of tofu and veggie noodles. They are perfect. We hop on the electric tram that traverses downtown and set off for Austurvöllur. There, Beyoncé is giving a free concert [editor’s note: she must have a lot of free time running Twitter]. Security wave me through so that we might sit in comfortable chairs just off stage right. Beyoncé is very happy to see us, and I give her an encouraging thumbs up.
At the concert’s conclusion, Beyoncé and I say goodbye, and she gifts me a sweet Louis Vuitton baseball jacket and tells my daughter that she is the cutest kid ever. I thank her profusely, but with dignity. I then meet up with my wife and my best friend down at the harbour, where cruise ships have been banned. The hotels have all been replaced with a giant expanse of green grass, where the four of us spread out a picnic. We eat, talk, and laugh the day away.
My daughter heads home to her mom, and then my wife, best friend and I make my way to Valhöll. While this used to be the headquarters of the conservative party, the whole building has been converted into the largest queer club in Europe. All the trans greats are there—MJ Jackson, Jamie Clayton, Mia Mulder, Indiya Moore—and they are absolutely delighted to see us. We all get a booth in the VIP section, and are immediately attended to by a group of cis men who are deferring and respectful. As we are handed champagne glasses, the DJ interrupts her set to announce a special guest. That’s right, it’s Beyoncé. The crowd goes wild. She gets in the DJ booth and announces she is about to drop her new single, never heard by anyone before, and it is dedicated to the trans community of Iceland. She points at me and says “You’re the best, Andie!” I point back and say “I love you, Beyoncé!”
We all toddle home, with absolutely no worries about being jeered at, barked at, or otherwise hassled. We crawl into bed and are able to sleep right away, content in knowing that we can wake up whenever we like.
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