So know I am committing a major faux pas by referring to Icelandic horses as 'ponies' but they're just too dang cute to be called horses! I refer to most dogs as 'puppies' and they've never taken offense so I'm sure the Icelandic 'ponies' won't either.
Anyway, Erica had the brilliant idea that we should ride horses in Iceland. Riding horses on vacation would be cool in and of itself but apparently Icelandic horse-ponies are extra special cool because they have an extra gait, whatever that means. I guess it's like those manual cars that have 6 gears instead of 5. Whatever. As long as it has a mane on one end, tail on the other, and saddle in the middle, I want to ride it! :)
My pony for the duration of our trip through the fields of (hardened) volcanic lava was `As, pronounced Haus. And he thought he was a cat. When I was not on his back, he gleefully used me as scratching post for his head and leaned against me. Yes, he literally leaned his big horse-pony body against me as if we were old buddies staggering home from the bar together. I'm sure that is animal-speak for, "Yeah, you think you're in charge but let's see how you like it when I sit on YOU!" But all I could think, in that part of my mind which is still an 8 year old horse-crazy girl, was, "He likes me! He really really likes me! And he wants to be my lap pony!" :)
We took a few selfies and then finally called it a day. I can tell you, there is nothing in this world like tölting around the lava fields on your very own drinking buddy/lap pony!
My lap pony and me! :)
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