This was our free day, and five of us went horseback riding at the Laxnes farm. The Nobel Prize-winning author Halldór Laxness, lived across the highway from this farm (and in fact that's where he took his literary last name from). His prize-winning book was Independent People, and I have to say that it extends to the Icelandic horse as well. OK, fine. It extends to all horses. But the one I rode was an especially good example of independence.
Our instruction consisted of the query, "How much experience?" I said, "Núll". Nada. None. Well, do I have to count when the horse ran away with me at Camp Fire camp when I was 14? We were told to hold on to the reins, and since there was no saddle horn, this was a wise decision. The stirrups are set quite longer than in western-style and you're supposed to flex your heel down the entire time you ride. It's really not that hard.
Icelandic horses have 5 gaits, the fifth one being one specific to their breed; the tolt. It's a very smooth gait I think between a canter and gallop and it is very easy to ride when the horses break into this gait. We took the horses out to a field so that they could have a snack of grass and at that point, "Halldór" and I were still on pretty good speaking terms. We were in a group of 25 - 30 horses who of course ALL knew the drill and ALL knew that we were itinerants. And - they had their pecking order.
Our instruction consisted of the query, "How much experience?" I said, "Núll". Nada. None. Well, do I have to count when the horse ran away with me at Camp Fire camp when I was 14? We were told to hold on to the reins, and since there was no saddle horn, this was a wise decision. The stirrups are set quite longer than in western-style and you're supposed to flex your heel down the entire time you ride. It's really not that hard.
Icelandic horses have 5 gaits, the fifth one being one specific to their breed; the tolt. It's a very smooth gait I think between a canter and gallop and it is very easy to ride when the horses break into this gait. We took the horses out to a field so that they could have a snack of grass and at that point, "Halldór" and I were still on pretty good speaking terms. We were in a group of 25 - 30 horses who of course ALL knew the drill and ALL knew that we were itinerants. And - they had their pecking order.
Sue and Andy
Ian, "Halldór"
I had been told by the lady who helped me saddle up, "Oh, this horse knows what to do. He's very independent." No joke! He was not fond of certain horses getting ahead of him on the track; he bit the flanks of certain horses to move them out of the way; he barged between 2 horses when there was barely room for those 2, hence putting my feet in jeopardy of either kicking a Swedish lady (who ended up giving me the evil eye on about, say, 10 occasions during the ride because of this) or knocking an 8 yr old Korean boy off his mellow horse. I have to say that most of the bruises I got on this trip were not from scrambling over rocks, slipping on scree, or any other hazards of hiking. No. They were from "Halldór" trying to rub me off!
Eventually he tired of that strategy and resorted to biting the Swedish woman's horse one time too many. That horse swung its head around and latched onto "Halldór's" neck, something that he wasn't expecting at all. He reared up - and took off a little faster than the tolt across the lava fields. And I was somehow clinging onto his sweaty neck because one of my feet came out of the stirrup and I was frantically trying to locate it. When I got situated I pulled back on the reins in a show of "no, I'm the boss" (even though I knew I wasn't), and he got back in line. And proceeded to try his stunts again. But - I kept his nose aimed straight ahead by some pretty tight reining in which he soon tired with. Ah, "Halldór"! Your independence is showing!
The barn grew closer and closer, the horses moved faster and faster, and "Halldór's" one-track feed mind grew more and more one-track...but he knew he still have this "thing" on his back that he really, really wanted to be rid of. One last attempt to rub me off against the barbed wire this time, but fortunately another horse got in the way, so "Halldór" took off for the corral fairly quickly, charging his way between the other horses. He wasn't the least bit interested in debriefing afterwards, either. Funny thing is, he was so easy to ride (when not rearing) that I'd gladly ride him again!
But we all survived and when we returned to Reykjavík, made reservations for dinner at Geysír, a very nice restaurant in the downtown area. I walked around the downtown area to scout out the restaurant and came across several families with young children playing with non-mechanized and predominantly wooden action toys - very neat!
We made it to Geysír on time and checked out the menu. The red flag was waved in front of my eyes; they had hvalborgari! A burger made of minke whale, quite impossible to get in the US, so I had to try it.
It was in steak form served with a lobster sauce on a bun. This very dense meat had its own taste - not fishy, not like swordfish, which is somewhat resembled, not like beef, and not like chicken! It was a dark, dark burgundy in the center - quite pretty and mild in flavor. And delicious! And for dessert I had to try the "Velg eplakaka með ís og rjóma" - warm apple pie with ice cream. Yes, we were sate and had had again so many fun and interesting conversations. Then it was time to leave.But we fell apart the minute we walked onto the veranda outside the restaurant. Andy said it best, "I think I'd look that way if I'd lost mine, too!"
Back to the Guesthouse Aurora for one last picture of almost everyone (missing and missed were Cathy and Paul, Penny and Richard).
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