Not Much to Look At

A lesson on entitlement on my family trip to Iceland

“Hurry up! You are very, very late.” We ran toward her, our slightly grizzled Icelandic captain with an improbable Chelsea accent. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.” My husband Daniel and I looked at each other, mortified—and puzzled. We’d both read and reread the email the night before. But we had missed a detail buried in small font on the ticket receipt: arrive 30 minutes in advance. No-shows will be turned away. No lateness; no exceptions.

They hurried my husband and daughter into waterproof suits, and tossed one in my direction too: “You can get changed on the boat. Take off your baseball caps now! They’ll blow straight off. You’re not in America anymore.” Amused by this non-sequitur, and still apologetic about our error, we rushed onto the boat and proceeded to suit up. That’s when I realized I/they had made a collossal mistake in sizing that would take me from this happy camper just one day before:

…to this miserable and demoralized soul, praying only for sweet release from the advertised two-and-a-half to three hour boat ride during which wearing the get-up below was absolutely mandatory. No disrobing; no exceptions.