We wake without sleep, surround sound snoring disturbed our slumber. I nudge John repeatedly throughout the night only to discover in the morning he did not participate in the melody. I eagerly pack to leave this place certain that the next place will be better.
We begin the familiar queuing for the bathroom then pack our belongings. I remember to keep my charging cord available. We board a new bus, our bus taken in the night for another group, this one appears to be a downgrade, lacking both the latte button and the USB ports. My charging cord is rendered useless and my phone desperately needs a charge from last nights white noise serenade. I take a deep breath determined to have a great day, then chuckle. My goodness I’m in Iceland seeing things few people will ever see, I am with great friends and my wonderful husband. The day seems brighter with my attitude shift.
Eric tells us the word of the day is foss and it means waterfall. We traverse the path covered just a few days before. We find a young couple with a standard car trapped in the water and sinking with each spin of the tires. We implore Eric to stop and help. He does though there is nothing he can do, help is on the way. The car is destroyed and the couple face thousands of dollars in costs for abusing their rental car with the hubris of youth. We are thankful for our transport and wisdom of our years though recall similar instances where we had to learn the difficult way.
We arrive at a place where it seems we have left the waterfalls behind. I’m not sure what the highlight is though we scamper off the bus to find out. We are directed to a tiny cave. It is small at first, though enlarges as we move through. The smell of moss permeates. The sound of water running is deafening. It is a tricky trek, the slippery rock has us concentrating. The first waterfall comes into view and we exclaim at the beauty. Just beyond, another waterfall demands our attention, though this one will require work and courage. Eric and Kommi let us know that we can return back if we do not feel up to the second waterfall. John and I look at each other, no words are needed as we take this as a dare and move forward. There are chains embedded into the rock to hang onto, though more haphazard than a Disney experience. I’m scared, not of hurting myself though that weighs heavily on my mind, but more worried about taking someone with me. I hopscotch across and soon am helped up to the upper ledge where a beautiful waterfall waits. We snap pictures, pose, take more pictures and too soon it is time to leave. Eric advises that the trip back is harder. I wonder to myself why he felt a need to say that as my nerves kick to higher level. I am too careful with my footing and fall, sliding until the sharp stone scrapes my knee, slowing me down until I stop. I shake off the pain admit I’m fine, no wounded gazelle here and keep moving. I have a little chat with myself reminding myself to plant my feet for the uncertainty of footfall is far more dangerous. Like a goat I cross the remainder of the rocks to safety.
Our next waterfall is hidden, though more accessible than the one with chains. A few steps into a cave, we are treated to a beautiful foss cascading down from the cliffs above. The power of the mist soaks our fancy waterproof jackets their first chance to prove their promise. We remain dry, money well spent, though still look like Smurfs.
Our next foss is a quick walk out of the vehicle. It is unusual and is called helper falls. The name is perfect as it looks like one waterfall is helping the other. I think about healthcare and how we help people in our daily work. How important to make certain that we also help ourselves, I think as I watch the larger foss with help from above. I also notice how the smaller falls contributes and how much we learn from the patients we serve.
Our final foss is at the site of a Viking homestead. The waterfall is not impressive when compared with the other waterfalls we saw today, though I can imagine how important it was to provide water for the family and livestock that once called this spot home. We marvel at the workmanship and how the structure complements and blends with the earth. I think about how far removed we are from this building sense as the majority of our homes are built for their size without a care for the land they will occupy. We seem to care more for what is inside than what is outside.
A rainbow rounds out the day as we travel to our lodging for the night. I silently hope that the accommodations are at least half as wonderful as the day.