Now comes the day where I proved my worth as a Viking.
As seen in a Reykjavik store
Did I plan my horseback riding tour just to be able to say to my friends that I met a handsome Icelander and watch the hope and joy fade from their eyes when I show them a picture of the horse? Well, it may have been an important factor in my decision…
Anyway, for months afterwards, I came up to people with a picture, saying: look, here I am, keeping a tight rein on a handsome Icelander!
In reality, it may have been less glamourous, and much wetter.
Bjoff, horsing around, and a very wet Owl
You’ll notice that I look like a blue Michelin Owl: yes indeed, I have on me all the coats, jackets, sweaters, t-shirts, undershirts, pants and underpants I brought in Iceland, and then some. I added a riding hat on top of that, like a cherry on a very chilled blue sunday.
The name of the horse was Bjoff, at least, that’s phonetically what I understood. The Icelandic horse breed is very tough and quite small, but don’t you go and call them ponies, unless you want them to get on their high horse (sorry… too tempting…), for they were brought to the island by Norse settlers (so, Vikings).
At first, it was clear that Bjoff had already been out, was jaded, and didn’t particularly cherish the idea of going out again. He slowed down while going out of his shelter, sighing slightly, but to be fair, I slowed down too. Because – and I don’t know if I can stress it enough – the weather was awful. Terrible. Dreadful.
That being said, once he left the stable, Bjoff seemed to relish what was obviously for him some fresh air and slight wet breeze (for me it was a terrible storm where I couldn’t keep my eyes open in the rain and the wind, and was frozen to the core). When the gusts of wind where so strong that he couldn’t face it, he would just set himself diagonally and go quietly on his way, nibbling on a small leaf when the occasion would present itself, while I was frantically hanging on to my saddle.
The landscape was certainly remarkable, I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t look around, I was far too busy striving for survival in the wind and rain. Bjoff didn’t even speed up when we went back to his stables, clearly it was for him a day like any other, while on his back, I was on my way to become a dripping wet mop.
Owl, I said to myself when we were back inside, while trying to lift my wet clothes from my skin and wringing them, Owl, you are a wimp, how can you be shivering and shaking like that for a small rain, it’s undignified! Then, a girl in the group started to sob out loud, and it reassured me.
I had indeed deserved my Viking diploma.
One year after, the diploma is still wet
Note: this is the day where I discovered the pure magical bliss of the towel-warmer.
This evening, from the window of my hôtel:
Extract from my notes:
“If the weather is like that during the whole trek, I may find it difficult. But I survived, and so did the horse.”
