My first experience riding an Icelandic horse was pure magic.
Things draw on as destiny wills. – Njal’s Saga
There is no denying the powerful relationship between humans and horses. For centuries, we have relied on horses for transportation, chores, and companionship. Experience has demonstrated that horses are far more than this; they are a powerful gateway for healing, mindfulness, and connection with nature.
Horses have made a profound impact on human evolution and still do. Ask anyone who owns a horse, and they will explain their obsessive love for them. It is a unique partnership that requires both trust and mutual respect. It is both a unique and profound love.
I was one of the lucky ones raised by parents who cultivated a relationship with nature. My parents were gardeners who loved fishing, hiking, and canoeing. I spent summers as a child in upstate New York, exploring the many lakes, caves, and mountains this region has to offer.
My mother, a gentle soul, introduced me to horseback riding. I immediately took to this experience and grew attached to a stout chocolate-brown horse named Banjo. He was the first horse I rode frequently. A free spirit, Banjo enjoyed breaking the mold during group rides. I can recall the glee as we broke out in a gallop past the riding group at a small stable in upstate New York.
It was freedom—the wind at our faces, the sun on my face, the free land ahead beckoning us onward, and my heartbeat synced with hoofbeats. Even as a young girl, I could feel the connection I had with Banjo. It was pure joy, and I think Banjo agreed.
Over time, Banjo grew ill and was set asleep. I was devastated. My rides with him were a long-gone memory. I still think of Banjo, and there are tears in my eyes when I write this. This is a beautiful thing and speaks to the power of the relationship between humans and horses that although it has been twenty years, I still think of him.
It had been many years since I desired to ride a horse again. I am not sure of the reasoning behind this. Perhaps it was lifestyle changes or the devastation of losing my childhood friend, but regardless, I knew I would find my way back there again. It just had to feel right.
When I first visited Iceland, my desire to horseback ride resurfaced, and how could it not. The Icelandic horse is an icon, playing a crucial role in Iceland’s Settlement and delighting visitors from all around the world. Plus they are adorable.
Yet something held me back. I witnessed the many rides around the country, yet felt no tug to reserve one. I think I have Banjo and my mother to blame for this. The ride had to be special.
Yes, pictures of riders galloping across black sand beaches or lava fields enticed me, but I needed to trust there would be a connection. Then I discovered Mr Iceland and knew I had found the one to do just that.
The Icelandic Horse
A Free Spirit
The Icelandic horse is an icon. If I told any horse person here in the States about my travels to Iceland, they would speak with such enthusiasm about the equines. You could see the gleam in their eye when they mentioned their “tolt”, a particular gait unique to this breed.
The Icelandic horse is many things. Smallish in size and known for their surefootedness, these equines were brought to Iceland by its first Norse settlers. Tough and bred for endurance, they had to withstand the lengthy voyage on longships. In Iceland, they were settlers’ “indispensable servants,” carrying people hundreds of kilometers across rugged terrain through all sorts of weather.
They are, above all, a free spirit. If you can open your heart to the Icelandic horse, consider yourself lucky. They will teach you a lot about life itself.
Mr. Iceland a Living Saga
An experience, not just an establishment
Fate is a funny thing. It was an essential concept to the Old Norse people, pivotal in decision-making and daily life.
The Icelandic Saga is rich in concepts such as destiny and magic. Often downplayed by scholars, there is no denying Iceland’s first settlers believed in many unseen forces, and that this belief shaped their lives. Attributes such as courage and resilience were valued above many things, so it is no surprise the Icelandic horse possesses these characteristics.
My heart and intuition have guided many of my decisions over the past several years. Some may view this as irresponsible, but I see it as destiny. I did feel that way about the time I discovered Mr. Iceland. My experience was magical, and it was fate that led me there.
During my last visit to Iceland in January, I booked a stay at Mr Iceland. Set on a 40,000-acre farm, Mr Iceland is a unique horseback riding establishment that offers guests the chance to rent one of the lovely cottages that overlook the surrounding scenery.
However, this is not just any horseback riding establishment. What sets this apart are several things. One is where some of Iceland’s most popular saga, Njal’s Saga, occurred. If you have not read this yet, I highly recommend it. Rich with love, betrayal, magic, bloodshed, and passion, Njal’s Saga demonstrates the unbridled passion of the human spirit through the unfolding of a family feud that escalates over time. I couldn’t put it down, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in desiring an intimate glimpse of Iceland’s harsh settlement period.
Another plus is that Mr. Iceland practices sustainable tourism. Rooted in a deep respect for nature and the land, Mr. Iceland preserves the thousands-year-old ethos of Iceland’s first settlers: to live in harmony with nature and the elements. (Please research before booking a tour in Iceland, and be sure that any tour you book practices this. It is crucial!)
I discovered the cottages through Instagram and was drawn to the location immediately as well as how close your cottage is to the horses. Without hesitating, I booked my stay.
The front of the cottage offers a breathtaking view of both the Eyjafjalljökull glacier and Tindafjalljökull glaciers in Þorsmörk. It is a quiet location, offering guests the chance to immerse themselves in the serene setting that the Icelandic landscapes offer.
Inside, you will find a simple, Scandinavian-inspired design with all the amenities you need to make your stay as cozy and comfortable as possible. My cottage was Blesi, the first cottage when you pull into the farm.
Often, during my past travels, I found myself rushed, moving from one to the next, as if my trip was more about ticking off a box than finding stillness and connection. My stay at Mr. Iceland gently encouraged this: Slow down, appreciate the simple things, and have quiet time to listen to the whispers of Iceland’s past.
I knew this would be the place for my first Iceland horseback ride during this stay, so I booked my second stay and a ride for my return in April.
Little did I know I would make one of the best friends I have made in Iceland yet; a brown horse named Johnny who stole my heart like the wind.
The Unforgettable Ride
My first horseback ride in twenty years was pure magic
I arrived at my accommodations on Sumardagerinn fyrsti (the first day of summer), and yes, Iceland celebrates its first day of summer in April! The days are longer, with an average sunrise time of 04:30 AM and sunset around 10 PM, which is excellent for exploring and allows you to witness the Aurora. ( this is a teaser for what happens later!)
I had spent the day sailing to Vestmannaeyjar (Westman Islands) in search of puffins. I didn’t see a single puffin, but the visit was lovely. There is always a reason to return! If you decide to visit Westman, please enjoy the ferry ride as it travels past some of the most awe-inspiring rock formations you will ever see.
I arrived for my horseback riding reservation the next day, nervous. It had been over twenty years since I had ridden a horse, and I had no idea what to expect. Mr Iceland (Hordur) greeted me with a warm smile outside the barn. I was enthusiastic about talking to him about the area as we rode, particularly the stories of Njal’s Saga.
While coffee brewed, I entered the barn. Right away, an inquisitive brown horse poked his head out at me. There was an instant connection, and he reminded me of Banjo. When Hordur arrived, he informed me he was thinking about giving me that horse for the day. It was confirmed. The horse chose me.
After that, we sat down for a few minutes to discuss what to expect. Right away, I could sense Hordur was a patient teacher who wanted me to have the best experience on the farm. He taught me about breathing, energy work, and communication with my horse. This was not going to be an average horseback riding experience.
Hordur explained to me a little about the horse, Johnny. He described Johnny as “an outsider,” I had to laugh and think, “Same Johnny, same.” He had belonged to a disabled girl for many years but was given away when the relationship shifted.
He belonged to Hordur and, as Hordur explained, had a purpose like every horse on his farm.
Before the ride, I was given a brush to brush my horse. This allowed me to bond with my horse before we set out, and it also helped ease my nerves a bit.
Following the saddle placement, with Hordur’s instruction, I led my horse into the training ring. For a few minutes, I led him around the ring, and Hordur instructed me to focus ahead and on myself only.
Then, it was time to mount. I was surprised at how easy this was for me. I felt good until we started to move. This came not from fear of my horse but from fear that I wanted to do a good job. Hordur explained to me that a horse needs a good leader, and at the moment, I lacked the confidence I could be.
It had been years since I had ridden, but I soon discovered this had little to do with experience and more to do with relaxing into the experience. I soon found Johnny would know me better than I knew myself.
We set out onto the trail after a few practice runs around the ring. Vast fields framed with mountains greeted us. The glaciers Tindfjallajokull and Eyjafjallajokull shined like diamonds in the sunlight. Blue skies promised fair weather, yet a gentle wind made me grateful he had outfitted me with a wool cape before we set out.
Looking ahead, I grew lost in reimagining Njal’s Saga. Scenes from the Saga stirred my imagination. At one point, we traveled beside a river. Orange-billed Oyster Catchers waded at the bank as Lóa sang from the field. It was a simple yet beautiful scene. Hordur looked out and said, “People sometimes ask if I get tired of this. How could I? Look at all this beauty.”
I had to agree with him.
After walking along the trail, Hordur asked if I was ready to go faster. “Sure,” I replied with a smile. I wanted to, but I was nervous and I knew both Johhny and Hordur sensed this.
Hordur and his horse sped up, and I gave my horse a few clicks. We were off.
At first, it was difficult to relax. I tried to lean back, breathe, and focus on myself, yet my tensed muscles knew I was lying. To my relief, we slowed and continued onto a singletrack that wove through the fields and streams.
After a little while, I began to ease into the ride. Hordur had explained to me the art of mindfulness, something our modern world tends to devalue. Where multitasking is rewarded, and distractions are at an all-time high, we must fight to be mindful. Everything about this experience has been quite the opposite, and Johnny demanded my attention to the present moment. I suppose we all could use more Icelandic horses in our lives.
As we continued, I was amazed at how in tune Johnny was with how I felt. He was aware of every muscle contraction, deep breath, and sound I made.
If I relaxed, so did he. If I tensed, he would quicken. His behavior would mimic exactly what I was feeling. Every twitch, every neigh, every head nod, or misdirection from the trail would call me back to the present. It felt like every deep breath would bring us closer, and our unspoken words lingered in the air.
In many way, this horse knew me better than I knew myself.
We passed through a place known as The Crossroads, a significant spot from Njal’s Saga. I felt like I was dreaming. By the end, I felt completely in tune with my horse, as if we were destined to meet. If he could talk, I think he would have agreed.
When I dismounted, I was delighted to receive some head snuggles from Johhny, who appeared to enjoy our rendezvous as much as I had. Maybe he taught me mindfulness and the power of breath. He also knew he had gifted me unforgettable memories. It was a truly magical experience I would cherish forever, and I couldn’t help but feel my mother’s spirit with us.
My ride included a traditional Icelandic home-cooked meal of locally sourced lamb, potatoes, and salad. Over dinner, Hordur told me about his farm, how acquiring it was a spiritual experience, and his vision for the future. Along with practicing sustainable tourism, he had also begun growing crops, such as garlic, and plans to expand this idea. We had a long discussion about tourism, his journey, and life itself.
I told him about my travels to Iceland. How I had been pulled there repeatedly, drawn to the little island by something I could not explain. And then it dawned on me. Maybe there is no end game or reason for this other than to be.
Much like riding the Icelandic horse, maybe Iceland just needed to be present and enjoy the moment.
The Magic Doesn’t End There
Aurora Borealis: A magical conclusion
When you open your heart to magic, life becomes richer. The ordinary turns extraordinary. Every budding flower, every bird song, every twinkling star or snowfall is divine. It is the best way to live and for me, the only way.
This is how I feel about the phenomenon of Aurora Borealis. She is magic and when you witness her as if she is, it is so much more beautiful.
That evening, I experienced the most spectacular Northern Lights display I had ever seen. It was almost midnight when the sky began to dance. Any Northern Lights sighting is otherwordly, but this one took my breath away.
It began as a faint green and purple hue that changed shapes and locations quickly. At first, it was straight ahead, like a curtain in the heavens had appeared. Next was a long ribbon, twisting and flowing in the sky as if the gods were unraveling it.
What happened next blew my mind.
When I looked up over my house I saw what you see below. This was the wildest I have ever seen them. An unbelievable display of vivid green and purple. They greeted me on the plane ride over, and now as if saying goodbye, showed in vivid brilliance right above me.
I thought of how over dinner I had confided in Hordur my experience at the Arctic Henge last summer. How I had visited Iceland five times, never once had witnessed the Aurora. Then I dreamt I would see them there, and when I journeyed there last summer, I did. It was the most magical moment of my lifetime, and I fought back tears when I told the story.
And now this was happening, even brighter and more brilliant than before.
This sighting confirmed that I was right where I was meant to be. Maybe luck, but I believe it was destiny.
The following day was my last day in Iceland for now. I spent the morning drinking tea and watching the horses out back.
Before I checked out I took one last glance around the cabin. On the wall hung a picture that said, if you earned the trust of a horse you have gained a friend for life.
I believe I have. See you again my friend….
