Reykjavik, seen from Government House

When a thriving economy hits the wall, it doesn’t become a third-world disaster zone overnight. The houses in Iceland still stand, the infrastructure remains in place and life, on the surface at least, goes on as normal. But the human damage is insidious. A medical analogy would be a mild form of cancer – not life-threatening, perhaps, but emotionally devastating. Shock, anxiety, frustration, fear and rising anger have led to a national malaise – an unwelcome development in a people not renowned for their cheery disposition.