My room, in all its spartan glory. The nice thing about a paucity of possessions
is that this is about as messy as it every gets.
My lane, Mjostraeti. The house is that first big gray one on the left.
The third floor is populated entirely by Old Norse scholars.
The lane leading away east from the house. Much of the residential part
of downtown Reykjavik looks more or less like this.
The square just next to the house. The street opposite me leads into Laugavegur,
the main tourist drag in town.
A cemetery not far from the house. Thicking with trees, I think
the little dwarf birches that are the only native tree left in Iceland.
Northern entrance to the main walkway of the University.
The pond for the fountain beside the town hall. One of those,
this is a metaphor for something but I don't know what.
James the Canadian and Sarah the German.
It is prudent to label everyone by their nationalities, methinks.
God damn, that James is a handsome man.
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