The tour guide who doesn't follow itineraries

I got on a tiny tour bus in Reykjavík and waited for our guide, who was unapologetically late.

‘I know you paid to see a boring beach which name you can’t pronounce, so why don’t I take you to the place I grew up in?’ he said.

The other people on the bus were much older, and agreed to his suggestion. Being the youngest one there, I decided to concur out of respect. I had no idea where we were going, since he told us a name I couldn’t pronounce correctly.

As we drove on, our tour guide began to tell us his story, like how he was sold to another family because his parents couldn’t afford to have six children.

‘You see that white house over there? That’s where I spent my childhood.’ He said, hoping everyone got a glimpse of the old farm in the middle of nowhere.

We had a long bus ride involving roadblocks made of sheep herds, and our guide’s narration of the scenery. The volcanoes were one of the features I loved the most about Iceland. They were so uniquely formed with fascinating shapes and textures. No matter where we went, they never cease to amaze me with their continuous presence. An old lady asked the guide about the volcanoes, and he immediately said,

‘Have you seen “Journey to the Centre of the Earth”?’

The lady said no, while some other folks said they did.

‘Well, it’s utter crap, most people I know in Iceland think so too!’

We laughed at his straightforward reply, that man was shamelessly jocular about all the things he said. With his detailed insight on every object we drove by, the car ride didn’t seem that long anymore. We finally arrived at our destination, where it said ‘Arnarstapi’ on a road sign. He told us to take our time and walk along the lava fields by the hair-raising cliffs.

‘Be careful not to wake the hidden people, they are not the magical ones you want to mess with!’ he said, and walked down the trail between the hills of green moulded lava rocks.

So there I was, standing on a cliff with a spectacular view that was not on my itinerary. Being a control freak, it was never easy to enjoy alterations. Yet, seeing whales jumping in the ocean and taking a stroll in this novel place, I began to appreciate the unexpected. Halfway through the trail, I spotted the guide laying on top of the rocks, taking a little nap.

‘Are you enjoying the homes of the hidden people?’ he asked.

‘Unexpectedly, yes.’ I replied.

‘Much better than a crowded beach with tourists taking too many photos, right?’

‘Yes,’ I laughed, ‘much better.’