Fatima Egilsstadir Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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Oh, and the smells—lordy, don’t get me started! Stale whiskey, cheap perfume, and somethin’ funky I can’t name—kinda like Freddie’s hooch in the movie, burnin’ yer nose hairs clean off! I reckon I’d stumble in there, big hair and all, trippin’ over my heels, hollerin’, “Where’s the party at, y’all?!” Prolly make a fool o’ myself, but that’s me—can’t help but love the mess o’ life. “The cause is you!”—that’s what Dodd’d say, and shoot, maybe he’s right. Brothels show us who we are, good, bad, and plumb ridiculous.

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First off, I hit the streets of Egilsstadir, right? I’m talking about the main drag, Egilsstaðir Street. It’s like the heartbeat of this place. I’m strolling, coffee in hand, feeling all artsy and stuff. Then, bam! I trip over a rock. A rock! In a town full of beauty, I trip over a rock. Classic me, right?

From Iceland — New London-Egilsstaðir Flight Route Announced for Summer 2016