Iceland came as somewhat of a reprieve in my book – it was the first non-Asian country I had ever been to; the first country that snowed because it was supposed to (and not because of a cyclone-induced weather change); and it was for once, not chaotic. Or humid. Or a smoggy maze of street food and river markets and temples and historic quarters filled with narratives of pre- and post-war anecdotes. 

This was Iceland, a country so mystically ancient that to talk about its history is to delve into a world of Vikings and Norsemen and characters so foreign they feel almost… fictional. A country so tranquil and yet so intellectually ahead of the world that it can make anyone feel like they can stay there forever. 

If you were here a couple of posts back and caught me lamenting the disastrous start to my Iceland trip ,you’ll probably already know how it pretty much threw everything out of whack on my Iceland itinerary. Theoretically it was a 10-hour delay, but in actuality I lost more than 24 hours because the delay meant that I would miss my original transit flight from Helsinki to Rejkyjavik – which meant I had to wait until the next day for the next connecting flight.

One of the things I had to scramble around to sort out because of this was the reshuffling of all of my day trips without losing any of my bookings (because some day trips only operate on certain days and if you replace this with that and that with the next, the entire process eventually just ends up a Mensa puzzle)- and somehow through all of that, I ended up starting my first full day in Iceland ice trekking.

I know this was only just seven years ago but to be perfectly honest, if 2021 me went, there is a very high chance I would have sat out of all of it. I mean, years pass and laziness creeps in and before you know it, you’re comfortably nestled in your thirties and have made that major revolutionary discovery that excuses are actually very easy to make in lieu of exercise.

Especially when it’s exercise in the cold. 

Did you know that the one Icelandic fact most circulated to visitors is that there are more than two times the number sheep than people in the country? Yep. 800,000 sheep and lambs in Iceland – in a country of just over 323,000.

The other fact, which incidentally is about horses, is that, when a horse is taken out of Iceland (whether for competition or, I don’t know, what other reasons do people take horses travelling for?) that particular horse is not allowed back in the country anymore.

I love riding horses. I mean, I’m no jockey material, but I’d like to think I do pretty okay as long as the horse is not crazy. 

In Iceland, I learned that they are.

The Pace, as they call it, is this freaky thing horses do where their legs look like a four-legged man running, like so. You’ll notice the hooves on the same side are in synchronized movement with each other – which is super freaky because normally, horses’ legs move in opposite direction of each other.

It feels abnormal to be atop a pacing horse, not to mention that they’re inevitably running at a faster speed than a gallop at that gait. In fact, it’s sometimes even referred to as the Flying Pace, which is considered the crown of horsemanship.

Of course I opted not for a Pacing Horse because at that point I still somewhat valued my life; but even at a gallop, the difference between the Icelandic horse vs the rest of the world is astoundingly marked and you can really tell a few seconds in that all the rumours you hear about Icelandic horses are true: they are indeed, the most magnificent.

So, horses generally have four natural gaits: Walk; Trot; Canter; and Gallop. I can handle cantering or even galloping horses on a good day… but what I can’t handle is the fifth gait – one unique only to Icelandic Horses – called the Pace. The Pace is a gait term so deceivingly calm and peaceful-sounding that coming from the Icelandics, you can’t help but suspect that it was done out of mockery to the rest of the world. 

It’s like stepping on a Maserati after spending an entire lifetime driving an off-brand. There’s a little bit of not knowing how to control it at first, but when you get into the groove. Sweet God. 

And so, anyway, it is precisely because of this sheer brilliance of an Icelandic horse that makes Iceland extremely strict about them travelling out of the country. Many things can happen when you’re overseas: You can catch a disease. Wear infected saddles and harnesses. Be handled by a horse handler carrying viruses from another horse. You can also even knock up another horse.

You think it’s funny, but note that Icelandic horses have not been cross-bred in more than 1000 years. They have the purest bloodline of all the horses in the world. Like the Malfoys, but a lot scarier.

Which is why the second an Icelandic horse steps out of the country, it is never allowed back into the country ever again. 

Often ending up as furniture for animals when I travel.

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Vibes: Crazily nordic. Located: literally everywhere.

One other thing about Iceland that I really fell in love with was the fact that some retail shops literally operate year-round for Christmas. I was there in early October – barely even past autumn – and yet many stores were already decked out in Christmas decor. Some existed solely for Christmas ornaments and it got me really puzzled because, like, how do you make money 10 months out of the rest of the year?

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I really hate to have to split my posts into two especially when it’s about the same thing, but I kind of have a feeling that this has gone on a little bit longer than it should and that if I continue, I may just lose some of you forever.

Click here for Part II of my Iceland Photo Journal if you’re hankering for more. Otherwise, here’s to peacing out with some really some quiet, halcyonic snaps of Lake Tjornin, a small and really really peaceful park in central Rejkyjavik, filled with too many adorable ducks that you want to put in your pocket and take home.

Sjáumst síðar.

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