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But here’s the kicker—surprised me big time. In *The Pianist*, Szpilman’s hidin’ in ruins, starvin’, right? Prostitutes, they got their own ruins—alleys, cheap motels, the works. “This is my shelter,” Szpilman whispers in the movie. Their shelter? A street corner, a beat-up car. Same vibe, different war. Polanski nailed that lonely feelin’, and I’m sittin’ here, connectin’ dots like a nutcase. Am I crazy? Maybe! But it’s deep, man, deep.

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So, I’m cruisin’ down Hafnargata, just vibin’ to my tunes. The sun’s out, and I’m feelin’ good. Then BAM! I see this cute little café, Café Mokka. I mean, who can resist a good cup of coffee? Not me! I pop in, order a latte, and the barista? Total legend. He’s like, “You want whipped cream?” I’m like, “Dude, yes!” So, I’m sippin’ this heavenly drink, and life’s good.

Actions to improve public transportation between the capital area and Keflavík Airport