Down and to the left

Yesterday was dubbed Traveller's day or the first day of the summer according to the old calendar. Of course the beginning of summer was rather vague, since the temperature was just barely above freezing, but oh well. Since the Icelanders seem rather eager to organize all sorts of activities, this couldn't be an exception. In addition to the rather standard "museums and galleries have a free admission" theme day, there were quite a lot of things to do outdoors. One could've gone angling or sailing, embark on guided walking tours, either refining their skills in the Nordic variety or go underground to explore the power plants and caves. ATV's and rather cheap scenic flights over the capital area were at display as well.

The thing that piqued the interest of an exchange student bunch was the discounted horse riding tours at Hafnarfjörður. We planned going there a couple of days beforehand, but when we started moving at 12oo yesterday, half of the group had changed due to cancellations and emergency recruitments. Everybody else seemed rather fresh and enthusiastic, even the trip organizing lady who had just an hour and a half earlier declared that "I'm hung over... No, I'm probably drunk." While that's certainly not the safest horseback condition, she looked considerably more lively when we picked her up later. She managed to assure us that she'll be fine.

Due to the group composition changes, we were just seven instead of the original nine, but that didn't turn out to be a biggie. While we were waiting for our turn in the dressing rooms, the usual silly amusement of wearing the helmets the wrong way and striking very serious looking rider poses for laughs ensued quickly. Instead of being offended, the experienced riders in the group joined the fun.

Around a half of us hadn't been on a horse before and were treated accordingly, being given the most patient individuals to ride and a crash course in steering. It turned out to be quite a popular event, and there were at least thirty of us forming a line when we were about to start going. The Icelandic horses seemed rather apt at this, you quite often see them in lines even when they're just chillaxing in the pastures without anyone around. Mine was a sturdy brown one called Sokki, since he was wearing white socks.

The thrill of starting to move was an unforgettable one. A few instructors were riding in our side and orchestrating the whole parade, and it was probably at least as much up to them to keep the line moving slowly in form. During the first ten minutes I wasn't doing all that much, just learning to adjust to the movement of the horse and trying not to tense the lower back too much. Shortly after that the line was split into two different routes, and we got a little more room around us. It was then when I started to get a grasp of the subtleties of steering him. While I probably could've just sit there without doing anything and manage the tour nicely, telling him when to speed up, slow down and turn did indeed have an effect. At the beginning I felt as if I was on a furry automatic taxi, but in the end it turned out to be a little less automatic and greatly more fun, and still giving me the opportunity to enjoy the valley scenery.

Afterwards our friend bunch kind of split as well, as a part managed to hitchhike a ride, but three of us wanted to take the walk. We wandered towards downtown Hafnarfjörður, and asked the first couple we saw for directions to the bus station. They were going the same way and we joined them, and it quickly turned out that they had housed exchange students before. It's a small world. The town itself looked cozy, tidy, tucked away from the frantic Reykjavík, but conveniently close whenever you need to visit.