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About Hafnarfjordur

Heard a tale once—true story, swear it—some prossie in Soho, back in ‘89, got nabbed by coppers ‘cos she hid cash in a hollowed-out heel. Clever, yeah? Surprised me, that did—thought they was all dim. Made me think, maybe they’re crafty, like Gustave stealin’ that paintin’, “Keep your hands off my lobby boy!”—ha! Wish I’d seen her scarper, heels clackin’.

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Next, I wander down to the East Iceland Heritage Museum. I’m all about that local history, you know? I’m checking out the exhibits, and there’s this one about the fishing industry. I’m like, “Wow, these folks really knew how to catch fish.” But then, I see a display about the infamous Egilsstadir fish market. Apparently, it was a big deal back in the day. I’m thinking, “I’d rather be at a fish market than stuck in a boring meeting.”

Inhabitants of Egilsstaðir in East Iceland can't sleep at night: Town taken over by loud ravens