...is a big, glass-fronted cafe right on the main drag downtown. Before it became a McDonald's, it was known as Hressó. Thankfully, McDonald's just wasn't doing enough bidness downtown and had to close a couple years back. So now the cafe is back and the name Hressó is back as its nickname, since the long-form name (that means roughly "the refreshment lodge") is just too long. Like any self-respecting Reykjavík cafe, this one becomes a dance club around midnight on weekends and is open all night, jam-packed with the lost youth of Iceland. But as a Thursday night cafe, it has its real magic. There is always a musician or band, usually playing acoustic favorites at one end of the room. There are big black couches and tables along the wall of windows that look out onto the street. There are passersby looking in to see if they know anyone inside. There are pods of young Icelanders coming in the door, unwrapping scarves in that around-the-head way, walking purposefully toward their friends across the room. There are women reading women's magazines and men smoking and talking. There are phones lighting up and text messages to be sent. There are tables full of women leaning in to admire some detail together. And the lone guitarist's steel-string sounds carrying over the top of everything. Last night, Hressó was the heart of Iceland.