“Mr. Captain, when you fly to Grimsey Island, can you also take this granny bag with you, please??”
That’s what I ended up doing on my vacation in Iceland, after the horrible weather disrupted my plans.
I was supposed to fly to Grimsey Island on the Arctic Circle, an island that stuck with my soul nine years ago!
At the time, I was impressed by the small and united community there (no more than 100 inhabitants), the way of life of the people, the enormous puffin colony, the midnight sun, and being right on the Arctic Circle! On just 5.3 square kilometers of land.
Some locals told me back then that they are quite isolated from the world and its hustle, so I thought to take with me some things I heard were “precious” in Iceland: honey and fruit preserve. To bring them a little joy.
Said and done. I bought some organic honey from home – acacia and linden, but also wildflower, some jars of wild cherry and green walnut preserve, and… I filled a quarter of my large suitcase with this sweet package. And heavy!
Since my flight to the island was right at the end of my 15-day vacation, I traveled all around Iceland with my bag with jars wrapped in paper, ziplock bags, bubble wrap, all placed in a large, insulated bag.
I always had one worry: that none of the jars would break in the rented cars, on the planes, and especially during all my moving from one accommodation to another. I had to change accommodations 12 times in two weeks!
Fortunately, everything stayed intact. Unfortunately, the terrifyingly bad weather in the north, with heavy rain and cold, made me give up with a huge regret on the trip to Grimsey.
Okay, I changed the plan, but what on Earth do I do with this granny bag now?!
Look at me, walking nicely into the Akureyri airport, the city from where I was supposed to take the plane to the island. I ask a man at the check-in if I could send a package to Grimsey. Somehow, by air, over water, with traveling whales…
I expected he’d look at me like I was missing a few screws and I would have to explain to him that in Romania it’s a common thing to even send cooked food to your children in another city, asking the minibus driver or train conductor to take your parcel…
To my surprise, the man didn’t look at me as if I were crazy, but advised me to go to the neighboring building, directly to Norlandair, the only airline that operates flights to Grimsey Island. (By the way, I had my round-trip plane ticket with that airline.)
“But do you think they will want to take my bag?” – I ask with great uncertainty.
“If I were in their place, I would take it” – he calmly replies, giving me hope.
I drive with the rented car to the neighboring airport building.
I enter, the door is open. I look around the rooms for someone. No one. I go upstairs and discover three people in the middle of a cheerful conversation.
I have no idea who they are and what they do here. But I tell them the story briefly, that I have to cancel my flight ticket, I tell them about my visit to the island nine years ago, about the jars from my bag, and the request (spoken with embarrassment) to take them to the island.
“Sure!” – a gentleman, who seemed to be the pilot, immediately responds. “But we don’t know if we can fly tomorrow, due to the weather. However, if we don’t take them tomorrow, then we will try again in 3 days.”
Yippee!!! Who cares when they deliver them?! It matters that they deliver them!!!
I rush to the car to grab the bag, and when I return, I find the people eating from some containers. Practically, I hit their lunch break. I feel awkward. But they don’t. They are cheerful, talkative, curious about what I’m sending. Euphoric, I take out a jar of honey, showing them it’s cool, organic, that it’s acacia honey (I look on Google Translate to see how to say it) and… I offer it to them with joy!
They seem delighted, especially a lady who admires the jar.
Then I take out a large jar of wild cherry preserve and offer it as well, explaining they can eat it plain, on bread, or… however they like, as long as they don’t end up with a sugar crash… or worse.
I reiterate my regret about not going to Grimsey, they shrug, pointing at the weather outside.
The lady who continues to eat her lunch from the container asks me if I have already canceled the airplane ticket. When she finds out that I haven’t, she offers to help me cancel it herself since it’s apparently harder on the website. She abandons her meal, takes out her phone, and… done, she cancels my tickets in a moment, telling me that I will receive both a confirmation email and a refund on my card in a few days. (Note: when I bought my ticket on their website, I was amazed that I could cancel it up to 3 hours before the flight. They are probably aware that weather disrupts many plans in Iceland.)
I leave happily! Not because I managed to get rid of the jars, but because they will reach where I intended them to go, hoping to bring joy to those people.
After a few dozen minutes, I receive the cancellation confirmation via email from the woman at the Norlandair office:
Tell me if this isn’t the friendliest and most unique cancellation confirmation ever?!…
P.S. To understand why I regretted not being able to reach the island on the Arctic Circle, discover soon the tale of the island (including the attack of the terrorist swallows :))
