Wandering Justin’s Note: I’m woefully behind in my Iceland travel diary. No time like the present to start getting caught up!
I’m on a bus. It’s sliding backwards down a steep, muddy slope. Toward a drop-off, naturally.
I rarely think about my mortality. This is one of those times.
We slide to a stop before the precipice.
The driver drops into the lowest gear and guns the engine. And our backward slide resumes after we gain just a few feet.
Fat raindrops splatter against the bus. Droplets of mud have kicked up everywhere and obscured the view on the windows.
The driver halts are backwards descent again. If not for his nonchalance, I’d probably fetch my backpack and start walking. He produces a shovel from nowhere, Bugs Bunny-style, and gets out of the bus. I hear the shovel working against the ground. Continue reading