The former radiostudios of the regional broadcast company are now a grand cafe. It is slightly big and perhaps too spacious. At the same time it is a beautiful spot.
That’s the way the cookie crumbles.
Ten minutes after taking this picture I was about to have a meeting with an old friend whom I hadn’t seen for twenty years in the cafe across this square.
A wall of mostly recent concert posters.
It may be Italian and it means coffee and tea. It was once explained to me by a Portuguese barista that the Italians may know how to make cars and the Portuguese know how to make the best coffee.
Contrary to my usual habits I have been drinking a cup of coffee at work. Normally I only drink one very strong, very warm latte macchiato at home before I leave. The rest of the day I drink water of tea. Now, while drawing I craved a cup of coffee.
Slowly waking up in Reykjavík and adjusting to life in Iceland means having coffee somewhere outside.