A Song of Fire and Icelandic
The exhaustion of flying for almost thirty-six hours brings everyone into a slow pace of walking, pulling our luggage towards the arrival area, where Helga, our tour guide is waiting for us. A little smile and a warm " welcome to our country", she hurriedly usher us outside the airport. When we reached the exit door, our spirits were set on alert and we all began to run-jog toward our bus a few meters away. The name of this country lives to its reputation- the wind is blowing wildly, cold penetrating our jackets, I can feel my lips slowly having a wind burn while my hands are going numb cursing why I didn't wear gloves. Why I missed the little detail about this trip, It still makes me wonder. I should have packed a lot of winter clothes because I am currently shivering in Iceland, the real-life Land of Fire and Ice. As we are warmth by the heater of our bus, we got curious about the view outside. Sure it is cold, but the picturesque winter wonderland that we expect...