Yes, it's our last full day in Iceland. In Europe really. Early tomorrow, we board our flight back to Minneapolis and from there, if there are no hiccups, we catch the flight to Madison. Some people really pack in there last moments, doing all that they want to still accomplish before heading home. You know what Snowdrop and I say to each other? Let's go lazy today!
A late last breakfast at the hotel...
A chat with the waitress, who is from Barcelona. Naturally, we talk about over-tourism. She came to Iceland because she felt that her home city was being destroyed by reckless visitors. "And, too, the pay is better here! But I have to adjust my mindset to the long and short days!"
And then we have a rest in our room. I had booked a "cat walk" for the morning with some group of random people. I'm not quite sure what it is -- I've seen no cats in the city. Small wonder, it's so wet here! I do know it was to end at a cat cafe. I was sure this would be attractive to Snowdrop who loves cats above all animals, but in the end, when I asked if we should back out of that, she responded with an enthusiastic "yes!" So we stayed "home" instead and only tremendous guilt made me get up and insist that we go out for a late morning walk. Which cost me some. The girl is in love with souvenirs here and even though I throw out my share of "no's" there is always one that she gets me to agree to.
(an Icelandic hound?)
(the BakaBaka Bakery, where I pick up a cardamon bun for my "lunch.")
And the girl's lunch? Well, it has to be early, because we have an activity to go to just after the noon hour. At the same time, we had a really late breakfast. How about just some fries at "home?" At the little coffee shop in the hotel? I have to use up my vouchers here.
And at 12:30, we take a cab (there is no other transportation option) to Ishestar stables.
When I was in Iceland last (in 2018), I had wanted to try riding one of the Icelandic horses. Do you know their history? They were brought here by the Vikings in the 9th/10th centuries. The finest horses from Scandinavia. The very last one came in the year 982. After that, a law was passed forbidding the import of any horses from the continent. As a result, the Icelandic horse has uniquely avoided globalization! In fact, if you brought in a horse now, the Icelandic ones would quickly pick up diseases that are completely unknown to them. They have lived here in isolation for more than a thousand years. (Though it is possible to purchase and take an Icelandic horse to your country of choice. If you do that, he or she will never be allowed back on Icelandic soil.)
I asked Snowdrop if she wanted to try riding an Icelandic horse. She has no horseback riding experience and it isn't exactly a sport I would like to see any of my grandkids take up (too dangerous, too expensive), nevertheless, trying something new is part of our travel mantra and she is eager to give this sport a go.
There is a misty drizzle now but unsurprisingly, they are prepared for this: we are given oversized rain pants and rain jackets (in addition to the standard helmet). If they stopped rides due to rain, they'd never get a day's worth of business here!
The Ishestar tables have really beautiful animals. The Icelandic horse is compact and strong, but it is in fact shorter than the standard horse you'd find elsewhere: 13-14 hands (as opposed to 15-17 hands for your average horse). But don't call it a pony! It is anything but that.
Snowdrop asks for a calm horse. She gets gentle Fidla.
I get the older but definitely more spunky Svigna.
Still, I promise to stay with her walk and only occasionally do I hold back and catch up with a trot. (I don't think our guide appreciated these pauses so I kept them to a minimum. Svigna, of course, caught on to my strategy and allowed herself a munch on the delicious roadside grasses with each pause. We were a good team!)
As for Snowdrop -- she is a cautious girl, but once she gets the hang of an activity, she really gets into it. She loved her ride, loved her horse, loved the gentle sway in the saddle.
It was a wonderful ending to our Nordic adventures.
On the cab ride back, we once again found ourselves in a political discussion with the driver. This has happened a lot in Iceland. I do believe that they are much more angry here at America's leadership than elsewhere and a little more puzzled about the support our government still receives among voters. They really press me on that. These are hard discussions to have and honestly, I wont miss them when we return home. There's only so much that I can say to provide reassurance about the future of my country which carries such an outsized influence on the fate of other nations.
Toward evening, I pack up our suitcases. This should be easy: I've been careful not to purchase any large items. We dont need to segregate out warm clothes or light ones. And yet...
It takes a while.
For our last dinner, we do not try anything new. I tell her we can go back to any of the four places where we've had dinners. She chooses the Seafood Grill -- from the first night of our return. I have to agree with her -- it was my overall favorite as well. True, she preferred the catch of the day from before (wolf fish), but the fries were awesome as always and my salmon, which I shared, pleased her no end.
(timed release)
(walk "home:" let's just call this an "art installation!")
(we developed a very comfortable walking habit: her arm lopped through mine)
One last night with light streaming in through our window all night long. One last Icelandic exhale. Tomorrow, we should be back home.
with so much love...
