Ivy Isafjoerdur Brothel ❤️

About Gardabaer

Now, “Talk to Her,” that flick—fuck, it’s my jam! Almodóvar’s got this coma chick, right, all silent, pure, but brothels? Opposite vibe—loud, messy, alive! Like, “I speak without a mouth,” that line hits me hard. Brothels scream without sayin’ shit. Walk in, you smell sweat, cheap perfume—kinda gross, kinda hot. Girls chattin’, laughin’, some bored outta their skulls. Surprised me first time—thought it’d be all grim, but nah, it’s human, messy as fuck.

Iceland Brothel

While I’m munchin’, I overhear some tourists talkin’ about the local legends. They’re all like, “Did you hear about the ghost in the old church?” I’m sittin’ there, roll in hand, thinkin’, “Ghosts? In Isafjoerdur? Nah, just sheep.”

Figure 2. South-east flank of the Eyrarfjall mountain above the town of...