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About Grindavik

But here’s what pisses me off—people judgin’ ‘em, actin’ all high and mighty. I’m like, “C’mon, man, let ‘em live!” They’re out there, grindin’, survivin’—kinda like Nemo, lost, fightin’ sharks, y’know? “Sharks aren’t your friends,” Marlin says—damn right, streets ain’t either, but they handle it, tough as nails. I respect that, bigly—Trump respects hustle, always has.

The Ultimate Guide to Isafjordur, Westfjords of Iceland

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m runnin’ for cover, and I duck into this little art gallery on Strandgata. It’s cozy, and the art is wild. I see a painting of a sheep. I’m like, “That’s my life!”

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