Your night, stop by stop
Out to Grótta
We drive out to the edge of Seltjarnarnes when the city's gone quiet, windows down, no real plan past getting there.
Feet in Kvika
We sit at the tiny stone foot bath by the lighthouse, warm water, cold wind, the whole peninsula to ourselves.
Hot dogs after
We swing back into town for pylsur at the late window, eaten standing up by the harbour with mustard on our sleeves.