Words by

Parker Yamasaki

At the bottom of Austurstræti where the street spills its cold, wet and grey dregs, we have a beacon of light. A blinking beacon that alternates between flashing “Pablo” and “Burro,” neon coloured words with warm associations. On the top story of the three-story building is the newly opened Pablo Discobar: a themed bar with tropical decor that makes you feel like you’re lucky caller number nine that just won an all-expenses-paid trip to Columbia. Below it, on the middle floor, sits its restaurant compadre Burro. It almost feels contradictory to order a sizzling plate of fajitas while staring down at the winter coat clad sidewalks on Hafnarstræti. ¡Salud!