Rauðarárvík

So. This is a long one today.
The day started with me getting up PLENTY early for the rendezvous with my group at the bus station. I was expecting once again to be the oldest broad there, but to my surprise, most of my companions were (ahem) mature women. I noticed another woman that was traveling alone and we sat together on the bus.
Man! Ya wanna talk about a fascinating lady! Her name is Ginny. She is from Connecticut, divorced with two grown sons. Her ex husband was an alcoholic who happened to be in one of his multiple rehabs when they had a COVID breakout. This was right in the spring of 2020 before the vaccine. And he died. Anyhow. That has nothing to do with the story. I just found it interesting.
Ginny had always dreamed of being in the Peace Corps but she got married and had her babies at a very young age. So when her sons reached adulthood, she went ahead and followed her dream! IN HER LATE 40’s! I commented that I thought most Peace corps volunteers were college aged. She said they were and that she was by far the oldest in the group that was sent to Zambia. In Zambia, Ginny attended language school for 3 months and took other classes such as “How to care for your bike”. Peace Corps volunteers don’t drive. Their only modes of transportation are by foot or by bike. Ginny was sent to a small village and moved into a mud hut the same as the locals who lived there. She talked about how she had to build her courage to go out into public because whenever she went out the villagers would stop what they were doing and just stare at her white face- mouths agape. One of her first strategies was to meet and talk with the tribal chief. Ginny says that many of the tribal chiefs in Africa are highly educated and speak perfect English. That surprised me! Anyway, Ginny lived in her little mud hut among the villagers and worked with the families to establish efficient and effective farming methods. She became a part of the tribe for two years and has been back twice to visit with her “family”. She said she absolutely loved the whole experience and wishes she would have stayed longer. Talk about courage!
She came back and got a Master’s degree in environmental studies. She now works for a nonprofit and works with farmers to develop farming methods that are kinder to the earth.
So- my first new friend. And there were several groups of women that I felt would be cool to hang with.
About an hour into our 4 hour drive we stopped for coffee and bathroom break. Re-boarding the bus, I reached over to grab my pack and my knee turned in an odd way. I heard/felt a loud “snap”- sort of like a too tight guitar string finally giving way. And I wasn’t exactly quiet about the pain. I knew immediately that this was not good, but settled into my seat just hoping it was not anything serious. And it honestly didn’t bother me at all. Until it was time to get off the bus. When my knee just- gave out. So I attributed it to stiffening up after the ride and tried walking on it for a bit and it was feeling better. I told our guide , Siggy about it and he insisted on putting me through a test. Day 1 is the most challenging day of the trek with lots of “stair” climbing. We went over to a raised walk way and had me step down. I did so gingerly and it was ok. Then he had me step up and at that moment my knee gave way and down I went with a loud yelp. Siggy looked at me and said “I’m sorry. You can’t go.”
Are you friggin’ kidding me? I mean- it’s not even a good story! I got injured on the friggin’ BUS! Didn’t even step foot on the trail.
I was really really sad and mad and embarrassed! I texted my family to tell them what happened and they were all over it within seconds! Cailin was booking me a hotel for the night and Megan was contacting her friend Payal who lives in Iceland. Payal was over hiking the Faroe Islands in Denmark but she got in touch with her …friend? Boyfriend? (I don’t know and I’m not sure they do either), Fearghus, who is a physical therapist for the rugby team in Reykjavik. A nice lad from Dublin. Grant in the meantime was contacting my trip insurer to find out what needed to be done from that angle.
Fearghus offered to meet me at the hotel and check things out. I cried all the way back to Rek. In the meantime I had contacted my sister Maggie who is a physical therapist as well, who hypothesized that I had torn my miniscus. Fearghus confirmed the diagnosis and gave me instructions for treating it. He also called a hotel on my behalf to get a refund and walked over to the convenience store to get me a phone charger, as all my electronics are in my big duffel which had already made its way to the first mountain hut. Iceland guides are hoping to get it back to me sometime tomorrow. The hotel staff where I am staying were also quite wonderful. They even loaned me a cane!
Sometime after Fearghus left, I and my cane went down to find something to eat. Who do I run into but Fearghus? So we ended up having a very nice dinner together.
So. Wasn’t the post I had hoped to write , but stuff happens, I guess. And what I most feel now is simply…gratitude. So many people I love working together to get me out of my predicament. And to God for blessing me with all of those people in my life.
I’m still unsure of when I will get on the plane to return home. I need to wait until my duffel comes back and am hoping the time allows the stiffness and swelling in my knee to go down. But I did notice this hotel has a spa…
Took very few pictures today. As you can imagine, I wasn’t much in the mood to play tourist. But I did get a pic of Ginny and one of Fearghus. And one or two of Laugevegur.Read more