It is ten in the morning at Seljalandsfoss, and the car park is full. Coaches are arriving in sequence. A queue has formed along the path that leads behind the waterfall — the shot everyone came for — and the mist rising off the cascade has turned the ground into a mud slick that claims at least one pair of white trainers every few minutes.

Two hours later, I am standing with my clients at the base of a waterfall twice as tall, in a canyon so quiet we can hear the wind change direction above us. There is no big car park. No queue. No coaches. Just the sound of water hitting rock and the occasional cry of a fulmar nesting on the cliff face. This is what a private tour with Lilja Tours looks like.

This is the reality of Iceland in summer.

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