Rough Riders: Part Tvær

When good ponies go bad...

Who knew that three days after our epic friendship fest, my association with 'As the Icelandic horse-pony would land me in hot water with U.S. Customs.  Did you know that question number 12 on the U.S. Customs & Border Protection form asks if you have been in close proximity of (i.e. touching/handling) livestock?  I didn't either.  Unless the Customs officials have been reading my blog (unlikely, right? that's the NSA, isn't it?), they couldn't prove that I was in close proximity to livestock.  But still I saw no reason not to be honest with my government officials - my first mistake - so I naively checked the "yes" box and wrote "horse" next to where it said "livestock."    

I started to realize that I may have screwed up when I got shunted over to a line that was suspiciously longer than the line the rest of the passengers from my plane were in.  My suspicions were confirmed when I got an irritated-looking agent who started grilling me not about item # 12, but about item # 13, carrying currency or monetary instruments over $10,000 into the U.S.  Seriously?!!  Did he not know how to read the damn form I spent so much time filling out!?  The conversation went a little like this:

Evil Agent:  "You're bringing in currency or goods valued over $10,000?" 

Me:  "What?  No, I have a few souvenirs but they're not worth any more than $100.  I checked 'yes' to the livestock question because I rode a horse in Iceland."

E.A.:  <flipping the form around but being no less intimidating>  "You rode a horse?"

Me:  "Yes, in Iceland but just for two hours."

E.A.:  "Why were you traveling abroad?"

Me:  <feeling like we were back on safer ground>  "Just for leisure."

E.A.:  <intimidating stare>  "Leisure?"  

Me:  "Yes, my husband and I went to Scotland and England to celebrate our anniversary and then I flew to meet my sister in Iceland."

E.A.:  <looking around>  "Where's your husband?"

Me:  "He's at home in Columbia, SC."

E.A.:  <looking like he'd finally caught me red-handed>  "He's not with you?" 

Me:  "No, he flew home after England.  But he's going to pick me up from the airport later."  <I really hoped I wasn't dragging Mark into whatever sordid international incident this guy was trying to fabricate!>

E.A.:  "So your sister lives in Iceland?"

Me:  "No, she flew to meet me there and we traveled around together."

E.A.:  <exasperated>  "Where is your sister now?!"

Me:  "In Kentucky, where she lives.  She just arrived there.  We had separate flights since we were going to separate destinations."

E.A.:  <bending back down to my form and getting extra condescending>  "You say you bought a necklace that only cost $10?"

Me:  "Yes, it was just some beads from a craft store."

E.A.:  <finally getting to the point>  "Did someone give you goods to carry in your luggage?!"

Me:  "No, of course not!"

E.A.  <unrelenting>  "Do you understand the severity of what I'm asking you!?"

Me:  <getting desperate> "Yes, but all I did was ride a horse in Iceland!  It was just two hours!"

E.A.:  <grudgingly>  "All right, you can go."

Thank goodness because he was so determined that I was starting to think that maybe I was guilty of something!  :P  From now on, I will have to think twice about hanging out with strange foreign ponies...

Homeward Bound

Home again, home again, jiggity-jig!

My thirteen hour layover in London's Heathrow airport was actually kind of nice, kind of homey - thanks to Costa Coffee's many, many accessible couches and their inability to secure their open-floor-plan-space from vagabonds such as myself!  :D  With ear plugs I was even able to drown out the ever-present sounds of construction and PA system's quarterly warnings of the evils of letting your children play on the baggage trollies. 

I wanted to repay Costa Coffee this morning for their hospitality, however unintentional, so I ponied up for an iced coffee and a cherry tart as soon as they opened and settled in to feed my daily internet addiction as well.  I may have spent a little longer there than intended but I still wanted to avail myself of the United Airlines Club, for which I had a pass, so I set off to get checked in and get some freebies.  (And by "freebies" I mean snack food that my United Airlines Card fees have paid for many times over!)  However, if I had known how good their spread was, I would have availed myself a lot sooner!  In addition to the many pastries, breads, meats, cheeses, cereals, and yogurts, the had the full hot English breakfast - eggs, sausage, hash, tomatoes, beans, and mushrooms!  

As I attempted to hoard some of this yummy food for later (hey, don't judge - I'd been traveling for 24 hours, with 12 more to go!), I happened to look at the departures screen.  My flight was listed as Closing.  Oh. $#!%.  I have - knock on wood - NEVER missed a flight due to my own tardiness and sure as hell didn't want to start now.  Thirteen hours at Heathrow was plenty, thanks!  So as I was sprinting down the moving sidewalk, I noticed the weird sensation of things hitting the floor at my feet.  I turned to find that my back pack had come unzipped, spilling my food hoard - and thus my shame - onto the moving sidewalk.  Clumsy AND classless all at once!  What can I say, I AM the total package!  ;)  

So what did I learn from that embarassing, nearly disastrous airport incident?  Why, to be sure to arrive earlier to free food buffets in the future so that I'll have more time to securley stow my ill-gotten goods! :)

 My own little London flat at Heathrow! :D

Rifted

Learning from the Master

When it comes to traveling, Erica and I have studied and apprenticed for years at the feet of the master - our mom.  Her technique is relatively simple:  cram as much sightseeing & activity as you possibly can into your allotted time, foregoing physical comfort and sleep if necessary.  We've gotten pretty good at the deprivation part but still need to work on the sheer volume of vacation-related activities we try to fit into the schedule.  For that reason, we devised our own Mom Travel Grading (MTG) Scale.  For example, sleeping past 8 a.m. on vacation will get you a C, with half a letter grade off for each hour after that.  Waking up at 6 a.m. and taking a nature walk to look for animals will get you an A.  Picking up and throwing away any trash you find along your way, will earn you bonus points! 

With that scale in mind, Erica and I were pretty excited to have gotten on the road Tuesday by 8 a.m.  Considering we had to get dressed AND break down the tent, that was quite an accomplishment for us.  (It's amazing what you can do when there's no wifi to tempt you into slothfulness...)  A+ on the MTG Scale!  Despite the loss of points we knew we would accrue, we decided to reward ourselves for our early departure with a little coffee, if we could ever find a place close to the road that was open.  (You should know that no extra points are given in the MTG system for completing vacation-related activities without the aid of coffee.  In fact, in our mom's coffee-free world, coffee acquisition and ingestion is a crutch that costs valuable vacation time and money so it will actually lose you points!)

Like addicts who've found a fix they didn't know they were looking for, Erica and I discovered that in addtition to caffeine, the roadside coffee shop was peddling free wifi.  Uh-oh...  An hour - or two - later, after Erica and I had inundated the internet with our latest selfies and witticisms, we finally disconnected and got back on the road towards Þingvellir National Park.  C- on the MTG for that blatant loss of time.  

By the time we finally made it to Þingvellir, after hours of driving on a rainy gravel road, we were not in an awe-struck mood.  I really wanted to be.  We could see the actual rifts between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates from the car!  "How cool is that?!" I thought, trying to work myself into a vacation frenzy!  Despite the pouring rain, I decided that I could not miss seeing this amazing phenomenon up close.  I would suck it up, put on my cheap plastic poncho, hike the short distance to the top of the rift, take a million pictures, and do my mom proud!  

However, the second I stepped out of the car, the furiously blowing wind tried to suffocate me with my own poncho.  I had one of those "Oh, this is why they say not to put plastic bags over your face!" moments.  I would have called Erica over to rescue me except that she wouldn't have been able to hear me through the plastic being forced down my throat.  And she wasn't available anyway since she was emptying her bladder onto the amazing natural formations of the park, while trying to avoid detection by tourists and park rangers.  After freeing myself from my homicidal rain gear, I decided that my near brush with death was all the excitement I needed for the moment and that pictures of the Rift from the safety of the dry car would be just fine after all.  C- on the MTG for not getting up close and personal with the national park but A+ for survival skills, which averages out to a solid B.  

Not bad for a car shot, huh? ;)  A- on the MTG Scale!

Rough Riders

When ponies think they're cats....

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! :)