Every morning, Krilli prepares the various ingredients for pastries, all the while longing to move back to Reykjavik. At the café, Krilli’s brother, Alli, sits with some old fishermen, including Iceland’s last boxer and a writer, who meet here and, every day, come up with another solution to the world’s problems.
Tourists, lost in the wilderness, find themselves at the fishing port. Alli’s son tends to them with his good eye. He lost his other one along with the chance to be a national football star. Once a month, the neighbours get together here in Café Bryggjan and remember the names of Grindavík locals who have passed. On Thursdays, four crazy musicians play jazz.
On the floor above, Iceland’s only handmade nets are made, large like the mountain that can be seen through the window. On the other side, the Blue Lagoon, the island’s grand attraction. People from all over come to see the volcanoes, the ice and the Earth’s genesis. And now the mountain, the tourists and the lava field seem to be pushing the town further and further out into the sea. Café Bryggjan hangs in there, clinging to the port’s terrain and giving its neighbours refuge on the last 3,000 square meters of building land left in Grindavík.
A large corporation has put in an offer to build a grand hotel. Another wants to turn it into a themed restaurant. Björk will be able to return to the city, but the land will no longer be virgin, its stories will sink to the bottom of the sea, the last lobster soup will be served at Grindavík’s Café Bryggjan, and all of them will be orphaned.
