‘I’m like the police in the shower’: The local fighting to protect

You have reached your maximum number of saved items. Remove items from your saved list to add more. An icy wind was cutting across Iceland’s capital, Reykjavik, just after seven on a winter morning, still long before dawn. Puddles were frozen solid. Noses stung. It was, after all, minus 11 degrees. That’s cold, even in Iceland.

Summary by Glance · The Age