We were half way through our four day visit to Iceland but no nearer to achieving the freedom to explore as we wished. Scroll back to previous episodes for the full story…

Now it was Wednesday. I’d undertaken a solitary tour to not see the Northern Lights and was now preparing to join the next tour we’d booked, the ‘Golden Circle’ tour. Since the Icelandic authorities had come no further towards contacting Husband regarding his ‘inconclusive’ Covid test we determined that all he could do was walk out of city as far as he could get and try to see some countryside, perhaps. It was a sad state of affairs.

I went to breakfast, stopping off to order him a room service one. A woman I met in the dining room told me she and her husband had almost been caught the same way by ordering Randox test kits and then at the last moment had gone to a pharmacy and got tested there. Otherwise, she told me, they’d be in the same sorry boat as we were.

With a little time to spare before my tour I looked at covid.is website and engaged the ‘chatbot’, where I vented all my frustrations regarding Husband’s position.

You may wonder why we didn’t simply ignore the regulations regarding Covid in Iceland- after all, you may think, who would have known if we’d have just carried on regardless? But we figured that a] we’d no desire to be caught, fined and possibly quarantined for two weeks and b] no desire to be hypocritical and to behave like the members of our own, criminal and dishonest, UK government. https://www.theguardian.com/world/ng-interactive/2022/jan/14/how-no-10s-alleged-parties-took-place-as-uk-covid-death-toll-rose-interactive

For this next tour I’d ensured I’d be returned to my hotel, not wishing to be abandoned at the locked bus station at some ungodly hour again! Along with some others, we were ferried to the coach, where I sat alone once more. Our guide for the day, Johanna, began her narrative as we left the city, an informative commentary but delivered with a somewhat world-weary style as she huffed and puffed in between parts of her notes.

Rolling along in the bus, I remembered the hot dog van. Although we’d saved parts of breakfast for Husband’s day of walking, he’d be able to get something hot to eat without entering a cafe. Hooray! I texted him this thought, then he rang me back, just as Johanna was beginning another desultory morsel of information. Husband had good and bad news. He’d heard from the authorities. They would come to the hotel and do another test on him, but he’d need to wait in the hotel room for up to 4 hours, effectively obliterating his plan to walk.

The tour continued and we stopped for the national park, where a portly fellow passenger told me of yet another tourist he’d met who’d been thwarted by the Randox tests. Onwards, then to the waterfall, which was impressive. I made sure to photograph everything to show Husband, imprisoned and waiting for the medic. Lastly there was the geyser and the thermal springs, again, well worth a look. I went to the cafe afterwards and had tea. But while lone travel has advantages [described in previous posts] I was missing a chance to share those snippets and asides my companion provides.

Back in the hotel, Husband had not heard any results of the day’s test and had passed his incarceration by parcelling it up into different activities: internet/reading/stretching- but still been bored mindless. I went to order our meals and it was while I was talking to the waitress that he called me to say his result had come: negative…of course…

Having ordered the meal we were not able to go out to eat, but as soon as we’d finished we went out to find a bar and have a celebratory drink, the first outside of our hotel. We had one more day left. What could we do with it? …