Reykjavík has many faces in December. You meet guys digging up the Christmas spirit, the sun reaches Mt. Esja, not the city. But, one thing is certain: on the radio, no matter which channel you tune into there is an old Christmas song by Raggi Bjarna. Ouch.
Not that Raggi Bjarna is bad, but when you have heard the song a zillion times, you start to wonder: “When will Christmas be over?”
Páll Stefánsson/Iceland Review