He was joy­ful and happy in his job. His co-workers describe him as the "heart and soul" of the hotel. His passion in life was being a break­fast chef. But soon this would all change. "It was like his passion for life had been snuffed out," says a colleague of his. Last autumn he tried to take his own life. He traces his strugg­les to changes in his working environ­ment. "I loved that place so much. I enjoyed working there so much, but it tur­ned into a night­mare.”

Stundin spoke to the chef Joao Paulo De Brito Linheiro Da Silva, who goes by Paulo, along with five colleagues of his at the four star hotel Radisson Blu 1919 in downtown Reykja­vík. The staff has complained about frequent issues with payslips and detail humil­i­at­ing behaviour and attitu­des from their bosses. All of the break­fast staff had their contracts term­inated and were offered new contracts with fewer hours and worse conditions.

All the staff that Stundin spoke to say that work conditions det­er­iorated rapidly when a new hotel mana­ger was hired last autumn. Financially, the hotel has had its ups and downs in the past few years; in 2017 it was run with a seven million ISK deficit, compared to a 38 million ISK profit the previous year.

In addition to the aforementioned payslip problems that staff had to spend its own free time to correct, staff say the new hotel mana­ger brought with her a new and hostile workplace atmosphere. Shifts were und­er­manned and staff was repeatedly ordered to per­form duties outside of their job descriptions.

The hotel mana­ger tells Stundin that the layoffs were a direct result of new break­fast stand­ards from the Radisson Blu chain and were in no way connected to staff performance or attitu­des. She did not want to comment on other complaints or accusations.

Paulo says the atmosphere had become so toxic and overwhelming that he caved in psychologically.

Lived in Iceland for the majority of his adult lifePaulo first came to Iceland as a teenager and quickly became enamoured with the country. He quickly got a job at a fish factory before mov­ing on to working as a chef in IKEA.

Mynd: Heiða Helga­dóttir

Wanted to make a new life in Iceland

Paulo first came to Iceland in 2005, then only 17 years old, to visit his aunt that had lived in the country for three decades. She lived in Keflavík, and it was not long until Paulo was offered a job at a fish processing plant. "I had never before worked a real job and was eager to start," says Paulo. "May aunt said if you want to stay, you’ll have to call your parents and get their permission. I needed their signat­ure because I was just 17."

His aunt then got a job at HB Grandi and moved to Hafn­ar­fjörður and Paulo moved with her. Shortly ther­eaf­ter he tur­ned 18,  became a legal adult, and started rent­ing on his own. A year later he was offered a job in the IKEA kitchen; he worked for the company both when it was located in Kletta­garðar and when it moved to Urriða­holt. When the 2008 financial crisis hit, he lost his job and didn't know what to do. "I decided to go back to Portugal because my mother tur­ned ill and my sister gave birth to a child. She was very young at the time and needed some help."

After liv­ing in Portugal for a few years his father and grand­mother passed away, lea­v­ing Paulo feeling like was wasting his life there. He quit his job, sold his belong­ings, and moved back to Iceland in 2016, det­ermined to make the country his fut­ure home. He bought a small apart­ment in Breið­holt and accepted a job as a break­fast chef in Radisson Blu 1919.

Work was a large part of his identity

Paulo quickly for­med a strong bond with his colleagues and took great joy from his job. "You have to be fast and know what you're doing," he says, smil­ing. "Everyone could depend on each other and we got along well. I really enjoyed my job and looked forward to showing up to work. I was always there and happy to jump in and cover a shift. There were times when I'd show up at four in the morn­ing and stay until ten in the even­ing, only to be there again at four the next morn­ing because I cared so much about the work and my colleagues."

Paulo and other staff mention their for­mer supervisor who left in 2018. Like them, he was a for­eigner, and before he became a part of mana­gement he had worked almost every job conceivable in the hotel industry, lea­v­ing him well equipped to und­er­stand what actually went into runn­ing a hotel. "He would clean tables, take plates, and was always willing to help," says Paulo. "If you needed help at four in the morn­ing, he was there, sometimes still in his pyjamas. That means somet­hing; it meant he cared. People respected that. He was a per­son you could talk to. I rem­em­ber one time when I was going to come in to work with strep throat and he told me to instead take my time and return to work once I’d made a full recovery."

"If you needed help at four in the morn­ing, he was there, sometimes still in his pyjamas"

One staff mem­ber says that this for­mer supervisor had not hesitated to take extra shifts to cover for his staff. "He was working as a dish-washer on his first week when the machine broke down, and he did this wearing his suit! I saw him in that suit working behind the reception desk, cleaning dis­hes, and even working in housekeeping. He wasn't perfect, but he knew what had to be done."

It is unknown to Stundin whether this for­mer supervisor's depart­ure is connected to the hotel's financial troubles in 2017, but his replacement is described by Stundin's respondents as more hostile and less und­er­stand­ing. A rift for­med between staff and mana­gement, with staff say­ing the new hotel mana­ger is Icelandic and a good fri­end to the exist­ing heads of mana­gement, lea­d­ing to them pres­ent­ing a united front aga­inst the minimum-wage staff.

Ideas from foreigners dismissed

Stundin spoke to a group of staff, including some from Paulo's break­fast shift which was laid off on January 31 and have now left the hotel. They were all offered new positions with fewer shifts and more duties, but none of Stundin's respondents accepted that offer.

All staff except Paulo would only speak to Stundin on the condition of anonymity. The staff unanimously agreed that workplace morale collapsed when the new hotel mana­ger started working there last autumn. Her manager­ial style was in stark contrast to her predecessor; instead of being willing to cover the shifts of other mem­bers of staff, she instead worked like the rest of mana­gement, far removed from the everyday runn­ing of the hotel.

"They show up around nine or ten and then they're gone at two," one mem­ber of staff describes. "They tend to some tasks, go to lunch, scare the staff, and then go home."

"They tend to some tasks, go to lunch, scare the staff, and then go home"

The group say they were ini­ti­ally excited when they were told a new hotel mana­ger was tak­ing over last Sept­em­ber. "We were told that things would change. One mem­ber of staff had lots of good ideas that she wanted to pres­ent to the mana­gement, ideas for how to improve the hotel, but they didn't want to hear them. It was like they were too proud to hear ideas from for­eigners."

Another mem­ber of staff interjects. "When I started I had some ideas of my own that I pres­ented to the hotel mana­ger and she just shook her head and said: 'We're not focusing on mak­ing money this year.' Then in January she met a group of Icelandic designers and was very inter­e­sted in their suggestions and what they had to say. It was very hurt­ful; it made me feel like I was of no worth to mana­gement."

Wages rarely paid correctly

When the hotel mana­ger started her job she invited all the staff in for a meeting where they were encouraged to speak frankly about how the hotel could be run better. "We put all of our trust in her and shared with her our mis­gi­vings. Then the following day we found out she had passed on to the other mana­gers everyt­hing that we told her, and we were scolded for it."

A common complaint was chronic problems with how shifts were org­an­ised and inconsistently paid paychecks. Staff tell Stundin that the payroll depart­ment almost never pays the right amount. "In the last 16 months I have only been paid correctly four times," says one mem­ber of staff. All of the hotel staff have had to rely on one employee who took it upon her­self to spend her free time going over the paychecks to make sure they add up. "It's emb­arrass­ing! She gets paid the same low wages that we do even though she's really doing the job of our bosses. We're very happy that she's so intelli­g­ent and generous with her free time—she und­er­stands the wages and shifts better than the payroll depart­ment."

"In the last 16 months I have only been paid correctly four times"

Another mem­ber of staff says that payroll always eventu­ally corrects the wages when discrepancies are pointed out, but that the depart­ment behaves very differ­ently in the rare instances that they overpay employees. "One staff mem­ber was accidentally paid 1.5 million ISK one month when payroll had accidentally multiplied the hours worked instead of add­ing in sick days. Mana­gement dem­anded to get the money repaid immedi­ately, while we, the employees, always have to wait two weeks or until the next paycheck to get our wages fixed."

Staff say they gener­ally are miss­ing 20 to 60 thousand ISK from their paychecks because of mis­ta­kes made when calculating overtime. "But it's distress­ing, because it's not like you can tell your landlord every other month that you'll be late with your rent; they don't care if payroll made a mis­take, you still need to pay your rent on time or you'll get kicked out."

Made to perform managerial duties without compensation

In the coming months a new trend emerged in how the hotel was run; alongside many jobs being cut, the rema­in­ing staff mem­bers were ordered to take on duties outside of their job descriptions. When the break­fast staff shift mana­ger left the company the mana­gers did not seem eager to recruit a new per­son into the role.

Toxic workplacePaulo and his for­mer colleagues all complain over the attitude and demeanour of the hotel's mana­gement, which they say sapped all the joy out of working there.

Mynd: Heiða Helga­dóttir

"We asked who our next shift mana­ger would be and were told we could take turns being the mana­ger. A shift mana­ger has a hig­her pay rate, but we were of course not offered that." According to the collective union agreements a shift mana­ger's position has to include at least a fifteen percent pay rise. A second mem­ber of staff chimes in: "Our bosses told us when customers asked to speak to the mana­ger we should be proud to say that that's us."

A third mem­ber of staff laughs and says: "We were being asked to be punching bags for angry customers, but I'd per­sonally like to see that additional duty reflected in my paycheck, but that was never pres­ented as a possi­bility. Then when one of the chefs called in sick, mana­gement ordered one of us to cover their shift in addition to waitering. That's impossi­ble."

The second mem­ber of staff nods and says: "In the first half of the day it's usu­ally just us and the receptionists on site. When large groups of guests arrive, maybe around 50 or so, then one of us is often ordered to carry their luggage. We alr­eady have our hands full, but if we refuse and say that's not our job they just order some­one else to do it."

"I'm the boss and you have to do what I say"

Yet another mem­ber of staff says: "Just the other day a mem­ber of mana­gement tried to force me to tend to a task. I told her it wasn't my job, to which she replied: 'I'm the boss and you have to do what I say.' I still refu­sed, but she must have gotten some­one to do it because the task was completed the next day."

Feeling disrespected by their bosses

It is worth mentioning that the mana­gement's behaviour as described is not illegal,but the staff Stundin spoke to say that it has had a chilling effect, that the attitude and lack of und­er­stand­ing of what goes into actually runn­ing the hotel was very discouraging. "Nobody wanted to be at work when we were not listened to and our work contribution not valued. Christmas was a very busy time for us, but one of our bosses became very off­ended because we did not smile when we met her."

"Christmas was a very busy time for us, but one of our bosses became very off­ended because we did not smile when we met her"

Another mem­ber of staff describes the scenario. "We were exhau­sted and just about to close the break­fast room and start cleaning when she showed up ten minutes before closing with her family and they stayed there until half an hour after closing. We were absolu­tely for­bidden from working overtime, but mana­gement still expected us to let them do what they wanted."

The first staff mem­ber continues. "On other days when we had alr­eady closed and started cleaning, mana­gement opens the room up again so they can have coffee together. Of course they're not welcome there; they don't respect us and our time, they come and go as they ple­ase, and yet they expect us to fin­ish our working day on time despite this interruption."

Veterans say newer mem­bers of staff are often asked to read instructions and practice with the hotel's software at home. "Reception staff are told to take an hour to go over the systems when at home, but they of course don't get paid for that. Bar staff has also been asked to visit the other downtown bars in their free time to do a price comparison for the mana­gement."

Told to show up to work sick

The mem­bers of staff Stundin spoke to say that the problems can be found in all the hotel’s depart­ments. One new mem­ber of staff told them for example that when they asked mana­gement in their job interview what their wages would be they were told to "just look up the collective agreements online."

Housekeeping has been und­er­manned for the past five months with just four mem­bers of staff doing the work of five, lea­v­ing nobody free to cover sick days. "I spoke to a mem­ber of housekeeping who was very visi­bly sick. I convinced her that she had to stay at home the following day to rest and recover. Another staff mem­ber said she could cover her shift until eleven, at which point she had another shift at her second job. So the sick employee meets with mana­gement, only to come back to me say­ing she has to show up at work the following day, but that she can rest until eleven. How can mana­gement expect her to recover in this way? Housekeeping is in a very delicate position; they are very replaceable and so they're ter­rified of upsett­ing mana­gement."

"Housekeeping is in a very delicate position; they are very replaceable and so they're ter­rified of upsett­ing mana­gement"

The other mem­bers of staff agree with this senti­ment and say that the policy now seems to be that it's the employees' responsi­bility to find some­one to cover for them if they take holi­days or are sick. "I heard one of the bar staff needed to go see a doctor in her own country as she wasn't yet insured in Iceland. She told her bosses with a month's notice but was told that she wouldn't get sick days because she was most likely just going home on holi­day. Then she was told if she was going to be gone for a week that she had to hire her own replacement and train them to cover her shifts."

The staff say mana­gement is very quick to accuse employees of lying when they themselves change their mind. "It really confused me and for a time I was afraid I was los­ing my mind, because the rea­lity I experienced was completely differ­ent to the one that the bosses were describing. But then when I spoke to my colleagues I quickly lear­ned I wasn't los­ing my mind, but that the bosses were simply changing their mind."

Management did not show up when human feces flowed out of the toilets

Staff say they've heard from other depart­ments that lack of per­sonnel is a chronic problem throughout the hotel that mana­gement doesn't seem concerned with. "Shifts are badly manned. I heard from reception that for months one mem­ber of mana­gement kept a for­mer employee on the shift rota. That per­son obviously didn't show up to work because they didn't work for the hotel any more, so it meant the other receptionists were always und­er­manned and had to work harder to get through the shift. This is how people burn out."

Another staf­fer interjects: "The bosses don't even know the names of all of their staff; they just call us 'you there'."

The staff say this lack of inter­est from mana­gement with the daily runn­ing of the hotel was made app­arent in January when the toi­lets blocked up. "In the past there was always a mana­ger on call during the weekends who could jump in and address issues that came up, but for the past half a year they've lost all inter­est in being availa­ble. So when the toi­lets burst a few weeks ago, nobody knew what to do. A plum­ber was called, but he only spoke Icelandic. The mana­ger on duty didn't want to come down to the hotel and accused the staff on duty of hav­ing done somet­hing wrong because the plum­ber was norm­ally a very nice per­son on the phone," says one mem­ber of staff.

"There were liter­ally fifteen centimetres of human feces and urine on the bathroom floor and she couldn't even make one phone call her­self for the hotel."

"There were liter­ally fifteen centimetres of human feces and urine on the bathroom floor and she couldn't even make one phone call her­self for the hotel. In the end two common area cleaners that were there had to clean up the mess with not­hing but a mop and small plastic gloves; they were there until 2:30 at night. Then they had to show up to work the following day."

Toxic workplace culture

By the end of October Paulo says one mana­ger shouted at him. "I'm norm­ally supp­osed to clock in at four and out at 14:30, but I didn't manage to complete my tasks until quarter past three on that particular day. Shortly ther­eaf­ter I noticed that we had received a deli­very for the kitchen, so I carried it over to the freezer so we wouldn't have any problems the following day. It was 15:30 and I had changed out of my work clothes when one of the mana­gers walked in and asked me what I was doing. I told her I was just going to fin­ish putt­ing the deli­very away and would then leave, but she said that wasn't an option."

Paulo says the mana­ger switched from English to Icelandic and told him: "You don't need to be here, you don't need to do anyt­hing more." He says he told her how import­ant it was to put everyt­hing away properly, but she ordered him to leave. "No, leave now!" she shouted at him.

Paulo says he had alr­eady had enough of the mana­gers' hostility and attitude, but that this incident had crossed a line. "I didn't feel any joy there anymore, I felt like trash. I didn't feel like a per­son, but like an unloved and replaceable object that others could break and hide. I loved this job so much, but it had tur­ned into a night­mare."

"I loved this job so much, but it had tur­ned into a night­mare"

On November 7 Paulo went to Germany for a week-long holi­day. He had booked a hotel in a small town where he had planned to relax and unwind from the stress of work, but he couldn't stop think­ing about that hostile attitude and the course of events. In a moment of desperation he took an over­dose of his prescription heart medication. Then everyt­hing went black.

Tried to take his own lifePaulo says the work environ­ment tur­ned so toxic that he lost the will to live and tried commit suicide. He was found in time to be resuscitated and woke up in a hospi­tal bed.

Mynd: Heiða Helga­dóttir

His colleagues saw a change in him

Paulo came to in a German hospi­tal. He says a hotel staf­fer had found him in time and called for an ambulance. Paulo left the little town behind and took a train to see his fri­ends. When he ret­ur­ned to Iceland his colleagues say he was a changed man.

"He was a lot more sensitive and fra­gile," says one colleague. "He was very depressed, even more so when he was at work. Work had always been a source of joy in his life and was a big part of his identity, but that all changed. It was like his passion for life had been snuffed out."

Another colleague shared the same senti­ments. "He was the heart and soul of the company and was always laug­hing, but he stopped when he came back. Even when everyt­hing was going well at work he still can’t seem to get out of that dark place. He’s stuck and quiet."

"He was the heart and soul of the company and was always laug­hing, but he stopped when he came back"

A third colleague says Paulo was frank from the beg­inn­ing on what had happ­ened. "On his first day back at work I asked him what he had been up to in Germany and he told me that he tried to commit suicide."

Paulo him­self says his life was completely tur­ned around. "It only took seeing one of the mana­gers and it was like my day was just gone, it was ruined. This is why I was always happier to work weekends, because then I didn't see them at all. But then if my colleagues mentioned them by name, I just crashed right away, and all that happiness went straight to the bin. I just wanted to leave work because I was crying every day. That's not healthy."

A manager pushed him off of a chair

Paulo got a doctor's note when he ret­ur­ned and used his sick leave to ret­hink his position. He saw clearly that he couldn't keep working at Radisson Blu 1919 so he resigned when he ret­ur­ned to work on January 7. The entire break­fast shift was laid off on January 31, as has previously been mentioned, but before that came to pass Paulo had yet to run into more conflicts with the mana­gers.

Hotel mana­ger ign­ored his complaintsA colleague witnessed a mem­ber of mana­gement pus­hing Paulo off a chair while in between tasks. Paulo says when he filed a formal complaint with the hotel mana­ger that she dis­mis­sed the complaint.

Mynd: Heiða Helga­dóttir

The day after resign­ing Paulo says the hotel mana­ger had infor­med him that there were changes being implem­ented to the break­fast menu and so he shouldn't serve the cold buf­fet. "I left the cold buf­fet like she had ordered. Then when I was closing and putt­ing away the hot buf­fet, such as the scrambled eggs and baked beans, because there's no rea­son to leave that out to spoil. She saw me working and told me to not touch anyt­hing. I apolog­ised and told her I hadn't touched the cold buf­fet, but she walked into the kitchen, grabbed my hand, and said: 'No, you weren't supp­osed to touch anyt­hing!'"

There were no eyewitnesses to this event, but the staff outside report hear­ing commotion inside the kitchen. A few days later Paulo was sitt­ing at a bar stool in between assign­ments, speak­ing to his colleague when another mana­ger told him he wasn't allowed to sit while at work and pus­hed him out of the chair.

His colleague confirms this series of events. "She smiled at him with a fake smile and pus­hed him out like he was a child. It was like she thought she could do as she ple­a­sed with him."

Paulo was so grossly off­ended that he filed a formal complaint with the hotel mana­ger, but says that she dis­mis­sed his allegations. "She told me: 'she didn't mean it like that' and said that it was all a misund­er­stand­ing. In my fifteen years in Iceland I've never experienced anyt­hing like this."

Staff afraid of being laid off

The break­fast staff was called in one after the other with the mana­gers on Thursday, January 31, where they were offered to work through their notice per­iod until February 28 or to accept new contracts with a lower employ­ment ratio and retain their jobs, albeit going from 100 percent down to 53-70. The termination lett­ers cite structural change, and the break­fast buf­fet certainly did reduce in size and change the open­ing hours, but according to the staff the big­gest change was that more people were hired to fill fewer positions; the staff Stundin spoke to beli­eved this was to avoid pay­ing anyone overtime.

One of the term­inated staff reacted badly to being laid off and received a formal warning for "not following orders" from mana­gement. He was encouraged to take the warning seriously and fix his attitude and behaviour in the next 2-3 shifts or be term­inated on the spot. The staff all agree that this was done simply to humil­i­ate the employee.

Hotel manager says she will defend her staff

Val­gerður Ósk Ómars­dóttir is the hotel mana­ger in question who started working at Radisson Blu 1919 last autumn. She tells Stundin that the break­fast staff layoffs were due to changes in the break­fast arrangements. "A new break­fast theme was being implem­ented and stand­ards changed by the Radisson Blu chain that the hotel is a part of," she says. "There have also been changes to the consumer habits of our guests as we sell many more overn­ight stays without break­fast included than we used to. Of course we offered all of our staff to keep working for us; we always want to work with them in the best way possi­ble."

Val­gerður says that with these changes less furnit­ure needs to be moved between floors when the shift starts which will result in fewer distractions for the staff. When asked how many now worked within this changed morn­ing shift and how many full time positions there were now within the depart­ment, there was a long silence before Val­gerður said: "There have been changes and cutbacks, but I cannot comment on specifics."

Val­gerður disagrees on the staff's assess­ment that they had taken on the duties of a shift mana­ger without the legally required compensation. "We beli­eve that we did not ask our staff to per­form any duties outside of what their contracts allowed."

"I will always def­end my staff"

When asked about the aforementioned discrepancies in staff wages, Val­gerður said the interview was over. "I will always def­end my staff," she said. She refu­sed to answer further questions.

Remaining staff fearful of further terminations

The same day that the break­fast staff was term­inated a previously planned staff meeting with Sólveig Anna Jóns­dóttir and Ragnar Þór Ing­ólfs­son, the heads of Efling and VR unions respectively, wherein numerous complaints from all of the hotel's depart­ments were aired. Stundin has copies of notes that were taken at the meeting where staff complained about, among other things, not gett­ing their legally mandated lunch and coffee breaks nor clear information on their work duties and hours.

There was a common fear among staff of gett­ing sick and not find­ing some­one to cover their shift. Staff complained that mana­gement made itself una­vaila­ble when somet­hing came up and that staff had been ordered to discipline their coworkers instead of mana­gers doing so themselves. Certain staff complained about being used as per­sonal assistants by mana­gement alongside hav­ing to fulf­ill their daily duties.

The group pres­ent at the meeting was scared of their depart­ments gett­ing the same treat­ment as the break­fast staff ear­lier that same day: to be pres­ented with significantly fewer work hours or layoffs. A sim­ilar meeting had been planned between mana­gement and reception staff on February 11, but it was post­po­ned after union staff contacted mana­gement.

“We will assist our people”

Sólveig and Ragnar both say they rem­em­ber this particular meeting, which they describe as bizarre yet necessary. "We had been warned before the meeting about what had happ­ened, so we were well prepared," says Sólveig. Ragnar adds: "We had meant to discuss general affairs with the staff, the upcoming collective agreement, and the possi­bility of stri­kes. In hind­sight it was very good that we got to meet these people and talk to them after this traumatic event."

Union aware of the issueRagnar Þór Ing­ólfs­son and Sólveig Anna Jóns­dóttir, the chairs of VR og Efling unions, met with the staff of 1919 the day the break­fast staff was laid off.

Mynd: Heiða Helga­dóttir

Sólveig says she admires the courage of those in attendance at the meeting for speak­ing in such a frank and honest manner about their situation and what was happ­en­ing. "This group is very aware of the importance of the work they are doing and how badly recompensed they are for it," she says. "I was sur­prised to find out how conscious they were of the unfair system coupled with the low-wage policies dri­v­ing companies, where people get pun­is­hed hars­hly for working long hours or keeping many jobs, which is often necessary to afford tak­ing part in society."

Neither could speak about specific cases, but Ragnar says that in the abstract this situation rem­inded him of a sim­ilar one that took place in Harpa a year ago where staff wages were lowered at the same time that the director got a 20 percent pay rise. "Staff at Harpa decided to stand in solida­rity aga­inst mana­gement's decision. It's a good example of mana­gement's tragic attitu­des towards staff. Fort­una­tely many companies do not think this way, instead tend­ing to their human resources instead of looking at them as num­bers that they can man­ipulate in every which way to make that Excel spreadsheet look better."

Sólveig says that often difficulties arise because of a rift between staff and mana­gement. "Managers are often put in charge of large groups of indi­vi­du­als, made responsi­ble to manage their work, but it's very rare for the staff to have a say in how work is scheduled and that their voices are listened to, even though they themselves are often the best equipped to solve the problems. Those sorts of mana­gers and bosses see us working class and low-wage labourers as abund­ant and easily replaceable. Instead of form­ing good relationships with their staff and respecting each and every one, these bosses often think it's easier to just hire new staff."

Ragnar adds in: "We will ass­ist our people with every tool at our dispo­sal."

Paulo has since then started working at his local pub and is seeking help from a mental health pro­fessional. "The heal­ing process for what ails me isn't counted in weeks or months, but a lon­ger per­iod than that," he says.

Other staff that Stundin spoke to is either still working at the hotel or has moved on.

--

This story orig­inally ran on March 8 in Icelandic. None of the details have been changed in the translation. On the day it was publ­is­hed maids at hot­els went on a one-day strike. Since then, Efling and VR have held a num­ber of strike actions, including that of all hot­els and bus companies on March 22. There were further stri­kes planned on March 28 and 29, which the mana­ger of the Icelandic Travel Industry Association warned could cost up to half a billion ISK, but they were cancelled after progress was made in the collective wage negotiations.

In the orig­inal article a source from Radisson Blu 1919 claimed hotel maids had been given mis­lea­d­ing information on the stri­kes, sug­gest­ing that if they took part in them that they would not get paid. The hotel mana­ger vehem­ently denied this. It has since come to light that numerous hot­els employed stri­kebr­ea­kers and attempted to skirt the strike laws on the two days they were in effect.

Further stri­kes within the tourism industry were not needed as new collective agreements were signed.