Bjartar nætur

Well, the bright summer nights have well and truly arrived in Reykjavík. I got back from the pub yesterday at 11.30, and the sun was only just setting. Weird. This is all right on a Wednesday evening. In fact it's quite nice. Feels like going to bed in the summer time when I was a child, with the sun still shining through the curtains. Or like it's an afternoon nap, my favourite sort of sleeping.

At 4.30 am on a Sunday it's actually pretty depressing. Drunk people and broken glass and shouting are all very well in the dark - that's where they belong. But there's something deeply uncomfortable about encountering your classic town-centre, small-hours, alcoholic shambles when it looks like it should be 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It's just wrong.

P.S. I've had a few people asking whether the baby finally has a name. I'm not going to post it on here when he does, but the answer is: no. Still no name and the boy's almost two months old now! Apparently this is quite common in Iceland.

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