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About Hafnarfjordur

So prostitutes, man, they’re out there hustlin’. Oldest job in the book, right? Back in the day, like ancient Rome, they had these chicks called “lupae” – she-wolves, ‘cause they’d howl to get attention. How wild’s that? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ some dude’s walkin’ by, hears a howl, and he’s like, “Oh yeah, game on!” Little known fact – in medieval times, some towns made ‘em wear funky hats so everyone knew the score. Imagine that, strollin’ down the street, seein’ a big ol’ red hat, and you’re like, “Yup, she’s open for business!”

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As the sun starts to set, I’m feeling all kinds of emotions. Happy, inspired, a little bit angry at the rain, but mostly just grateful. Gardabaer, you’re a quirky little gem. You’ve got your ups and downs, but that’s what makes you real. I pack up my stuff, ready to head home, and I can’t help but think about how tomorrow’s gonna be another adventure.

The Risk Is Real