Taking the P out of public transport

Late June and the tourist season in Iceland is in full swing, hordes of continental visitors line the streets of main street Laugavegur and exotic voices fill the air.

Visitors to Iceland come in all shapes, sizes, and species from the ardent outdoor enthusiast to the determined drunken reveler. This summer I have, however, detected new tourist sub-species, which for anthropological posterity, I have labeled the Bewilderment Completicus. As the tourist season wears on this sub-species becomes ever more common and for the avid tourist watcher there are two classic identifying signs; on one hand an increasingly crumpled city map of Reykjavik and in the other a copy of the new city bus guide. These confused and anxious creatures are to be found around the major bus terminals of Reykjavik loitering with intent (mostly in vain) to use the new revamped public transport system.

If the recent major overhaul of the city bus routes was designed by city planners to reduce even further the already dwindling numbers who avail of public transport, then I take my hat off to them for they've done a stand up job! The old system, for all its shortcomings at least had the advantage of simplicity. Under the new regime destinations that used to be a single bus ride away are now two while the majority of buses seems to spend most of their time doing three point turns up and down the length of Hverfisgata. If natives or longtime residents can't figure it out what chance does a greenhorn straight off the plane have? The general dissatisfaction with the new system and increasing congestion has reopened the debate on public versus private transport. Suggestions have ranged from the reasonable (smaller hoppa style vehicles, already visible on the streets) to the downright ludicrous (trams or even a metro, I ask you !?)

As in any modern city the objective is to entice people out of their cars and onto the buses so reducing pollution and traffic gridlock and commendable though these objectives they are, in Iceland they bound to fail. Ever aside from the crappy weather and the obvious logistical problems of having a small population spread over a relatively large area, the nation is hopelessly enamored with the motorcar. No mere transient teenage crush but a love affair that is likely to endure. When first arriving here, natives particularly in the countryside, expressed surprise that I hadn't been motoring since the age of four. Surprise turned to incredulity when I foolishly admitted that a .I had never owned a car b. didn't have a license and c. couldn't even drive (well I could probably move a car from a to b but I assure you it would not be pretty) The first two admissions are greatly frowned upon while the third is probably a criminal offense.

There are more than 170,000 registered private vehicles in Iceland; enough cars to fit the entire population in just the front seats. Despite astronomical import taxes, and soaring petrol prices, this figure continues to rise year on year. Many nuclear families boast two three and even four cars clogging up the driveway and the concept of car sharing has yet to reach these shores in any significant way. Indeed an Icelanders idea of a car pool is a place to take your precious vehicle for a refreshing dip.

All of which renders the public transport debate redundant in this country, as nothing short of a drive-by shooting would be sufficient to entice an Icelander from behind the wheel.

- John Boyce, freelance journalist and contributor to ReykjavikMag