The police chief gets spanked

I wasn’t kidding about the nightlife, you know.

Only a few short years ago, Reykjavík was hailed as the wildest, craziest, most outrageous city in all of Europe to go out on the town. Planeloads of Europeans flew over here for the weekend just to party and trendy young rock stars bought shares in their favourite pubs. When bars closed around 3 am, hoardes of people poured out on the street – on some weekend nights in midsummer there were 5,000 people packed into the small area around Lækjartorg square.

Needless to say, with so many people crowding into one space, scuffles were inevitable. Plus, getting everyone back home and snug in their beds presented a bit of a challenge ... the taxi companies weren’t quite managing it and, well, something had to be done. So in their infinite wisdom, city authorities decided to extend the opening hours of bars and nightclubs, giving proprietors more or less free rein in deciding when to close. That, they claimed, would fix the problem of drunken disorderliness in the city centre at weekends.

Consequently, now clubs in Iceland close whenever they want, which usually means around 5 or 6 am. And yes – the issue with the several-miles-long taxi line has been pretty much resolved. Instead what we’re seeing is people going out around 1 am and getting pumped up on their favourite stimulants just to be able to last until closing time. By which time they’re both pugnacious and wired. Which is why today we have a a rise in gratuitous violence, including rape and sexual violence. Ugh. Ugh. The sort of stuff we haven’t seen in Reykjavík before.

A few days ago, the Chief of Police in Reykjavík wrote a long article in Morgunblaðið in which he voices his panic about the prevailing conditions in downtown Reykjavík on weekends. He compares it to our notorious summertime outdoor festivals, in which punters normally drink or drug themselves insensible and wreak havoc upon themselves and their surroundings. He calls for measures to counteract the madness – but is it possible to turn back time? [Discuss.]

Meanwhile, today's Fréttablaðið rises to the occasion and gives the Chief a good spanking in its editorial. It claims that Icelandic cops have duly failed to shoulder their responsibilities in the insanity of downtown Reykjavík on weekends, that they stay in their vehicles with the doors locked and refuse to go out on the beat and make themselves visible. And because this is so, anyone is free to use whatever intoxicants they want in any pub or bar – and increasingly, this does not include the only legal drug served there – booze.

Much as I hate to diss The Law – I definitely wouldn’t want their job and boy, was I glad to have them around when my methhead neighbours lived next door – I have to agree with him. Police visibility here in Niceland is virtually nonexistent. This very thought crossed my mind just last week when, on two successive evenings, I watched cars on a very busy street slow down as they approached a red light, then drive right through them. Icelanders, as a breed, tend to send authority the finger anyway and live by their own rules; however, in downtown Reykjavík on weekends this is a recipe for disaster. So I hope Reykjavík’s finest get out there and start flexing their muscles – before my kid reaches legal drinking age.

METHINKS SUMMER IS JUST ABOUT OVER
We can already feel the sharp chill in the air – and temps have dropped a degree or two on the average. There’s been an annoying wind blowing strong for the last few days, redeemed only by the sun coming out, which warmed things up ever so slightly. At the moment it’s 10°C [50F] and the brilliant sun rose this morning at 5:17 am and set about a half hour ago at 9:45 pm.