It's a miracle. I can hardly believe I have finally arrived on this horse farm in Iceland. Forget everything I told you about the place and its owner, forget the link that I posted on Saturday - that was the website of a totally different farm.
So here is what happened: In my emails I never asked Gestur, my new Icelandic boss, to give me his address. I just took it from the website that I had googled, using the name of the farm. The address was kind of vague, like "on the eastern banks of torsa river, between the towns selfoss and hella". But Sigga said, no problem, we'll find it.
And we did. Just it wasn't the farm where Gestur and his horses lived. The two farms nearly have the same names, just one letter is different. Luckily the woman knew Gesturs farm and could explain how to get there. I was so glad it was just around the corner - it could also have been at the other end of Iceland! So now, knowing I had browsed the wrong website all the time, I really had NO idea what to expect.
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| When this Icelandic Spitz said hello to us, I felt relieved: People, who have nice dogs, are usually nice themselves. |
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| In the middle of nowhere: Kalfholl farm, beware: this is NOT Kalfholt farm and doesn't have a website. |
So in the end it turned out that this place is much smaller than I had expected. It's two parents with their three grown-up sons that offer multiple-day-tours to foreign tourists. Apparently a very nice family (I deduct that because they feed me well, talk to me nicely, gave me a soft bed and gentle horses to ride).
They have many, many, many beautiful horses. And they all need new shoes (Hufeisen) before we can go on tour tomorrow. So that's my job until tomorrow: calming horses while Gestur hammers on their hooves.
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| About 30 Icelandic horses are still waiting for new shoes. |
Six days of riding through the highlands with 13 American tourists lie ahead of me. Hurray!
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