Whenever we travel, one of the first things we do is find a local grocery store.

It has become one of our standard travel routines. We usually stay in an Airbnb, so we stock up on breakfast food, snacks, drinks, and anything else that keeps us from eating every single meal out. It saves money, gives us something quick to grab before a long day, and means we are not constantly trying to find a restaurant every time one of us gets hungry.

In Iceland, this strategy felt especially important because food was expensive. Very expensive. So when we stopped at the grocery store, I picked up a bunch of things for the apartment and for our days on the road.

One of those things was a bag of grapes.

They looked perfect. Crisp, juicy, easy to throw in the car, and exactly the kind of snack you want when you are spending hours driving through the Icelandic countryside.

The next morning, we packed up the rental car and headed out to drive the southern portion of the Ring Road. We had been looking forward to this part of the trip because Iceland is really one of those places where the drive itself becomes part of the experience. There were stretches of road with almost nothing around us except mountains, black volcanic ground, huge open landscapes, and lava fields that seemed to go on forever.

At some point, I started getting hungry.

Luckily, I had planned ahead.

I reached for the grapes.

I started eating them one after another, enjoying what I remember being some very good grapes. They were cold, crisp, juicy, and apparently so good that I must have decided that chewing was becoming more of a suggestion than a requirement.

And then one of them got stuck.

At first, I think both of us assumed I had just swallowed wrong. But within a few seconds it became very clear that this was not a normal coughing situation.

I was actually choking.

Sarah immediately started to panic.

Now, I should mention that Sarah does not know how to do the Heimlich maneuver. So while I was sitting there trying to cough up a grape, she was having the very unpleasant realization that we were in the middle of Iceland, surrounded by absolutely nothing but road, lava fields, and scenery.

No town.

No restaurant.

No gas station.

No helpful stranger.

No emergency room conveniently located around the next corner.

Just the two of us, a rental car, and one grape that had suddenly become the biggest threat we had encountered in Iceland.

Sarah was understandably freaking out, and I was trying very hard to keep coughing. There was a brief moment where I am sure both of us were thinking the exact same thing: You have got to be kidding me. This is how this trip is going to end?

Not on a glacier.

Not while hiking near a waterfall.

Not getting blown off a cliff by Iceland’s insane wind.

A grape.

Fortunately, after what felt much longer than it probably was, I coughed hard enough that the grape finally came flying out of my mouth.

And when I say flying, I mean flying.

That thing launched itself out with enough force that I honestly have no idea where it went. Somewhere along the southern Ring Road, there may still be one deeply traumatized grape lying in an Icelandic lava field.

Sarah let out the biggest sigh of relief, and I am fairly certain I did too.

For a few minutes, we just sat there processing what had happened. We had spent all this time planning for Iceland’s weather, packing layers, checking road conditions, worrying about wind, rain, glaciers, and all the other things you are told to prepare for.

At no point did anyone warn us about produce.

The rest of that bag of grapes stayed exactly where it was for the remainder of the trip.

I was done.

There was absolutely no chance I was going back for another one.

They could sit there and think about what they had done.

Looking back, it is one of those travel stories that is funny now because everything turned out fine. At the time, it was terrifying.

We went to Iceland expecting waterfalls, glaciers, black-sand beaches, lava fields, and the Northern Lights.

We did not expect one of the most dramatic moments of the trip to involve a grocery-store grape.

Needless to say, I have been a much more committed chewer ever since.