Reflections | Why Winter in Iceland Feels Like Home
With the wind’s help, the car door slammed shut. I tugged my scarf free and settled in to the overpowering scent of air freshener. My driver, a non-expressive middle-aged Icelandic man, said nothing; I was relieved. Icelanders aren’t big on small talk, and I preferred it that way. I glanced down at my watch to…
