Wed 23 Dec 2009
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You can’t visit Iceland without going to the Icelandic Penis Museum.
The rest of the country is nice too—pristine volcanic tundra, stunning iceberg seas, boiling thermal hotpots—but the real reason tourists come, even when they won’t admit it, is to giggle and titter at this basement gallery, where every variety of animal phallus is on display, neatly jarred and labeled like fruit preserves. So when I spent the holidays with family in the capital of Reykjavik in 2002, I knew that I had to see it for myself.
Members Only (The East Bay Monthly, June 2008)
