There’s the pretty one.

Borgarfjörður Eystri

And across the street, the rusty one. All the fish are gone. Beautiful, though.

With ruins in the foreground.

And weird driftwood art.

Neither is Iceland, though. That’s something the Icelanders keep to themselves. What they present to you in its place are charms and gestures.

You know, stuff you remember from the world.