This Icelandic chocolate bar was everywhere, and although I’m not much of a candy lover, I tried (and enjoyed) two: one with little candy crunchies in it, and the other with balls of licorice. But it was the name that tickled me most. Just imagine Icelanders — a mostly blonde, beautiful bunch — advertising their candy to the outside world: “Where my Nizza at?” “That’s my Nizza!” “Don’t mess with my Nizza.”

I was making jokes to this effect the entire time we were in Iceland (which got old to everyone but me), but a little Google action shows Nizza isn’t as randomly unfortunate as I thought: There’s a notable city in France called Nizza, which in English is translated to “Nice,” and apparently that translation holds in Italian. Perhaps that also explains the hotel and pizza shop.