HURDY, GURDY...

Strange place, Iceland. Weird shape, pretty nippy, loads of snow and stuff. For years, it stayed in the background, doing its Icelandic thing after the infamous Cod Wars of the 1970s.

But in recent years it has developed something of an unfortunate reputation for not doing things terribly well. A couple of examples. A few years ago, Kent County Council, to whom I shell out close on £2,000 a year in Council Tax, felt that Iceland was a safe bet and invested £50million of our money. I guess they thought they knew what they were doing but, come the Bank crashes and all that money has seemingly disappeared in the white hole of Icelandic economic troubles. Despite assurances, there is still no sign of any of our (I nearly said Kent County Council`s) money being returned.

Next, Iceland inflicted Bjork on us. Now it`s just possible that she has a redeeming quality or two, but if so, then they escaped me. Instead, we had a constant stream of ear-grating, teeth-gnashing, head-splitting screeches, masquerading as music, as `art.` No it wasn`t. It was rubbish.

And now we have Iceland`s inability to control their own volcanoes, leaving the whole of north-western Europe grounded, travel chaos reigning, warnings constantly being issued softened only by the prospect of spectacular sunsets and sun rises. The cost to the thousands of would-be air travellers and to the economies of the affected countries is enormous and I doubt the word `compensation` will even cross the minds of those in Reykjavik unless, of course, it occurs to them to pay out from our missing £50million.

As the rest of the world concerns itself with global warming and nuclear proliferation perhaps, after all, the Icelanders have the triple whammy solution for world domination. Dodgy banks, Bjork and erupting volcanoes provide them with a powerful combination - and they throw in Lazy Town for good measure. Oh well, I just hope the sunsets are worth it. Hurdy gurdy.