Reykjavik: The Coocoo’s Nest
By closing the door behind me I’m entering another world. A world wrapped in Warpaint music. I’ve never heard a Warpaint song in a café before. The slightly melancholic tones suit my inner conception of Iceland, correspond to its winter-melancholy, to the Northern Lights and to the vast of its ice landscape. But right now it’s summer and the street in front of the Coocoo’s Nest is full of people eating ice cream. There is an ice cream shop next doors where you have to draw a number to get your desired scoops of ice cream. Icelanders are addicted to ice cream! Even in cold winter days. At least this is what Ragi, a 59-years old Icelander told me.