Hi-O Hestur!

We rode Icelandic horses!
Everyone had a good time, even our first time riders-and especially Coley hahaha.





Hestur is the Icelandic word for "horse," but mine was named "cute little duck face" or something similar. Who knows. But she was the biggest and wildest! It was so fun to ride up through the mountains and look down on Skalholt.





Icelanders are legit about their horses. The breed is so pure because they never, under any circumstances, let a horse into the country, even if it was born and raised there. The horses have a unique gait called the "tolt," which is really similar to the paso gait. Tolting over the loose lava rocks down the side of the mountain was...an adventure, but at least it was fun. The horses are so sturdy because of the rough Icelandic terrain, so no one really worried once we were on.




Well, ok maybe Coley was. That picture says a lot.

I'll finish writing about the rest of our adventures later tonight.
Countdown til I'm U.S.A. bound: 2 days

Bless Bless!

My Heart's Beatin Like a Jungle Drum

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npawmHVaf-E


Maria Sol's family showed this video to Michelle and B on homestay night. It's an advertisement made to attract tourists to Iceland. We've been to a lot of the places it shows!

We love it, but be warned: there is nudity. Don't say I didn't tell you.

"My heart's beatin' like a jungle druuuummmmmm!"

Bless Bless!

Eyjafjallajökull is Easy to Say!

"Ay-yuh-fjat-ul-uh-yoke-utl"
Somehow the Icelanders manage to say it in like a syllable and a half. We've been practicing the entire time and still give ourselves away as Americans whenever we open our mouths.


We got to see it yesterday! From the south, we watched as steam rose out of the crater and created clouds. According to out historian/geologist/meteorologist buddy Erlinger, volcanoes create their own weather.

We drove for another 30 minutes to the northern side, where the water broke through the crater and flooded the valley. The volcano is under a glacier (which is why "jökull" is in the name) but it was entirely black because of the ash. The only white space was where the water had spilled over when the lava melted part of the glacier. the entire valley was black and flooded.


We got an entire trashcan full of ash to ration out and take home. It's like really thick and muddy sand. It's all outside on the porch right now because we are hoping it will dry out so we can take it home without adding 30 pounds to our bags. This may be a problem...



We also saw an old homestead of turf houses. Iceland was so poor until after WWII that most people lived in turf houses still. This series of houses is connected, because as the family grew wealthier they were able to build nicer additions.














Even though the houses were interesting and the volcano was AMAZING, most people really enjoyed the waterfall we went to. There is a trail behind it and it's constantly surrounded by rainbows when the sun's shining (which is 24 hours a day right now). Some girls edited their pictures to brighten the colors, and it looks like a Lucky Charms ad.



Just when I think I've seen the best that Iceland has to offer, it one-ups its own natural beauty with a new spectacle. Like Eyjafjallajökull, my mind is blown. Get it?

Bless Bless!

Áfram Ísland!

"Go Iceland!"
Today is Independence Day in Iceland! We went to nearby Reykholt to celebrate with speeches (in Icelandic, but they were out friends so we clapped and cheered anyways) face painting, soccer, and a soap box derby.



This is Amanda, Dr. Novak and me after our face/head paintings









My host family had two cars in the race, "Super Reindeer," which had fur and a skull, and "No. 11," which was driven by their 11y/o son Matthius, who wore a trash bag jersey. Super Reindeer won in its heat! So of course we celebrated and cheered- in Icelandic, "Áfram Super Reindeer!"






This is Super Reindeer pulling ahead of the pack










After today's parades and games, I am sooo ready for 4th of July in the States. It didn't occur to us that they can't do fireworks here because it never gets dark, so now I'm all excited for the show in Oakboro. I hate to say it, Iceland, but we do Independence day better.

Bless Bless!

A Scot, an Icelander, and a Dane walk into a bar...

Actually, we all walked into a barn.

Tuesday night was homestay night, meaning we were split into pairs and spent time with different families for the evening. Regan and I went to a nearby cattle farm, where an huge Icelandic family lives. The smaller family that we hung out with had an Icelandic father, a Danish wife, and a Scot named Billy who has lived with them for two years working on the farm. Soon he hopes to move to New Zealand. We got to herd the cattle, aka walk behind them as they herded themselves into the barn, then watched them hook themselves up the machine and be milked.















The farm was HUGE and surrounded by mountains and a glacier. It stretches from the river (that also runs through Skalholt) to Geysir- a good four or five miles along the road. The father told us how all the farmers in Iceland get drunk every fall to go herd the sheep off the mountains where they have the summer pastures. Apparently it's the thing to do.












We rode around the farm, seeing the horses, quarries, and fields- some of which have never been plowed. He told us land is really cheap in Iceland, and that if we wanted it free then the farmer at Skalholt has an unmarried son. Just kidding, Dad.

The whole time we've been here, we've been trying to figure out whether or not Icelanders really believe in the "hidden people," or elves that supposedly live in the rocks. I turns out that they sort of do. Our farmer had a field with an unplowed patch around a hole, which he said was where some elves had a hot spring. He wasn't sure whether or not all the stories were true, so he felt safer just leaving the area alone. Better safe than sorry when it comes to these things.








We stayed until 10:30 sitting at the kitchen table talking to the farmer, his wife, and Billy the Scot, looking out the front windows at the sun shining over the horses in their pasture. Maybe I'll go visit the Skalholt farmer's son after all...

Bless Bless!

807

Eight-hundred and seven: that's how many pictures I took this weekend. Our three days in Snaefellsnes were the best of my life, and I mean that. Friday morning the sun was shining on what was supposed to have been a stormy weekend, so our professors canceled class and we loaded up the van right after breakfast to head to Snaefellsnes, which is the "middle finger" of Iceland, or the middle peninsula of the island. We stayed at a small but perfectly located turf roof motel- situated on the sandy coast of the North Atlantic under the watchful eye of a glacier and a lava field (both of which we explored). Immediately after check-in we suited up and made the treacherous drive up a series of mountains (in a 15 passenger mercedes, nonetheless) to the glacier Snaefellsjokull.

Climbing the glacier was a challenge, but four of us made it to 4000 feet! The view was unbelievable, especially because we were looking at rivers and valleys where the events we read about in Icelandic sagas all happened. My favorite part, though, wasn't standing over the world, or making snow angels (because we go to Meredith haha); my favorite part was sprinting down the glacier with my arms out like an airplane, making the appropriate noises for such an occasion. I did this for most of the way down, when I wasn't barrel rolling and racing Dr. Novak. That was the most fun I've ever had on a mountain, and I couldn't help screaming and laughing the whole way down.



All the girls in our section of the motel made a spaghetti dinner for everyone (complete with "arnge draaaannnkk"), which, combined with ice cream, the world cup, our hot tub, and a British mystery, was the perfect end to our day.

Saturday, we slept in and were treated to a "real breakfast" of scrambeled eggs, bacon, honeynut cheerios, and juice. Mama, in case that sounds familiar, I lead the group that shopped for breakfast in the grocery store. This was by far the best breakfast we've had the whole trip.

Enough about my dietary experiences. Even though it was raining on Saturday, we had another perfect day. Once again our little Mercedes set out across the lava fields to see how God carved out the island. We went to a rock carving right on the coastal cliffs named "The Fairy Castle," because, well, it looks like a castle from the side. From the other side it looks more like a viking ship with the sails out. We climbed all over it, watched the birds, and got sprayed by the waves as they unleashed their frustration on the cliffs. I hadn't done this since I played t-ball, but I just dug around in the dirt looking for cool rocks. I came back with three pockets full because I just couldn't resist having lava rocks to bring home. Hopefully my suitcase will still meet the 50lb limit for the flight back...



After returning to our motel and laying down for a while, a few of us set out for dinner at this tiny cafe on the side of a cliff overlooking the violence of the North Atlantic. We felt like we had just stepped off a boat like in "Deadliest Catch" and were rugged sailors sitting down to our first hot meal in weeks. Which, actually, is sort of true. It was the first time we'd eaten out since we left Boston. As we trudged back to our van, Dr. Grathwohl suddenly got hit by the spirit of adventure, and all of us except Dr. Novak took off on a mile and a half hike over the lava fields, in the rain, on the cliff edges overlooking the ocean. We had soooo much fun climbing around and taking pictures. Ice cream and hot tubbing never felt so good as they did that night when us intrepid explorers returned.

Sunday morning we drove around the countryside for a while and visited a few important sites, such as the grave of one of the characters in the Laxdaela Saga, which we've read, and the reconstruction of Eric the Red's house. We had beautiful weather for the drive back, and were met at Skalolt with a traditional Icelandic feast. I tried dried fish and seaweed, three varieties of lamb, herring, and some other typical dishes. If anyone can make rhubarb pie, that would be excellent. Just sayin'.

Ohh one other cool thing we did: On the way to the Snaefellsnes peninsula, we had to drive under a fjord. Yes, under it. There was a tunnel drilled into the rock all the way across. It doesn't sound so cool writing about it, but we were excited knowing we were under water while driving.



We have a week full of adventures ahead of us, so be looking for some pictures! There's 807 from this weekend alone:)

Bless Bless!

"Ooh That Smell! Doncha Smell That Smell?"

This song has applied to literally everyday in Iceland, but never so much as today. Just as the smell of sulfur has become easier to ignore every time we use the hot water, a new stench has penetrated my life: rotten shark flesh. Tonight, noted scholar and everything else Kristin, who lives here in Skalholt, had our group over for a party after dinner. While there, the brave of us tried "stinking shark," or "cured shark," if you want to make it sound somewhat appealing. Basically, it's dead shark that has rotted in sand for six months then hung in the wind for six more months. It smells TERRIBLE and has the weirdest texture. On a somewhat related note, I had my first legal drink tonight. Since the Middle Ages, cured shark is always chased with a small shot of Icelandic schnapps- by pure necessity. Trust me, this shark stuff is rank. Even though the public drinking age in Iceland is 20, and I'm only 19, the drinking age is not applicable in the home- only public venues. So, basically people can do whatever they want at their parents' discretion within their homes. Anyways, back to cured shark...it wasn't as bad as I expected, but the skin was awful and chewy. It didn't taste too bad, but the aftertaste was so strong that it took forever to get rid of it.

It is also taking forever to get through this week! Dr. Novak and Dr. Grathwohl are front-loading all of our class material so that our last week will be spent mainly just seeing sights, reading one last short novel, and on independent travel. Regardless of the kind intentions, I am weighed down by constant studying and class. Literally, for two days we have done nothing but class and study/read. Let me reiterate: academia all day every day. Blehhhhh

Our first break since Sunday afternoon came today, when we went back to Selfoss to run errands. I racked up on skyr and some lemon soda, as well as a bag of chips and a roll of Icelandic cookies. Can you tell I miss junk food?

Oh heyyy I won a keychain today for answering a trick question in class! I'll pose the same question here: After a group of Irish slaves in Iceland during the settlement period murdered their master, they sailed to an island southeast of where they had previously been enslaved. Considering this orientation, why then did the island come to be known as, in English, the Westman Island? Main rule of trinket bingo: Winner gets a prize:)

On our way back from Selfoss we saw another wonder: a caldera lake. It. Was. AMAZING. Soooo huge and a deep indigo color. Even though it was freezing, Dr. Novak went for a swim. Also, those who attempted to answer the above question but failed, had to get in the water at least up to their ankles for at least 5 minutes. To be honest, if they hadn't answered so poorly and narrowed down the possibilities, I wouldn't have had any clue what the answer was. But still, who was wading in a volcano lake of hypothermic temperatures? Not this girl. I was standing at the top, listening to their girly shrieks and holding my keychain in my fist. Just kidding, I sat in the van because it was so cold and windy.

Tomorrow we get to sleep in and start class after lunch, then eat dinner and have a lesson in Icelandic from a local teacher. Hopefully we will surprise her with how much we can say! As for me, I'm going to catch up on last night's episode of Glee and then go to bed.

Bless Bless!