The Cafe.

The Cafe.

I haven’t posted much about the cafe, so here it is.

I am a janitor. There’s no getting around it, that’s what I do there. I get there around 7, and leave around noon 5 days a week.

The cafe itself is really busy during the summer months. Number One on TripAdvisor, and all that. Kaffi Ilmur is the place to be.

My boss is a Viking, if there ever was one. (and there was. its a historical fact.)(this is not because I have been power watching Vikings every chance I get.) Today she asked me if I would meet her in France this September, and I considered dropping out of school to make it so. Briefly. Pretty sure she was just kidding, but I know that it would be an adventure!

This is Oskar. He made me a giant list of bands that were worth a listen. Iceland has a considerable amount of really good bands coming out of it. And we’re not just talking about Sigur Ros and Bjork.

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Here is that sweet cafe. Upstairs is the kitchen andd restaurant area, and dowstairs is the coffeehouse.

In the valley next to the cafe, they grow fresh rhubarb. It is not yo mamma’s rhubarb.

This is Esther. (and me, too)

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This is Olive. She’s leaving today.

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This morning I found evidence of a party gone wild on the patio. I felt like a detective. (I didn’t have to detect very hard)

And here are some cute things I took pictures of, in or around the cafe.

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