Iceland's football shows they're a country without any inferiority complex
January 7, 2008. After winning the NAIA National Championships in Daytona Beach, Florida, I stepped off the plane in Keflavik Airport to the coldest weather I had ever experienced. I had never breathed air like this — bitterly cold, but fresh, tough and challenging.
I was greeted by Bjarki Mar Sverrison in a town called Mosfellsbaer, six miles outside Reykjavik, and was immediately told to get ready for Thorrablot, a national celebration that went on until about 7am the next morning.
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