I think I’ve mentioned before that every so often I have a dream about going back to Iceland. It’s been a while since the last such dream, but last night, I dreamed that I was taking the bus around the ring road, and trying to decide where I wanted to stop (since you can stop anywhere you want, as often as you want, on a ring pass, so long as you continue in one direction).
But in the dream, the guy who was in charge of the dog expeditions threw a very un-Icelandic, yellling-and-screaming-for-no-good-reason fit, and refused to take us. I was resigned by going by motorized vehicle after all. But someone told me I needn’t do that; the tour I’d signed up for wasn’t cancelled; we’d just be going up the glacier by pony instead.
All I could think, in the dream, was of how Scott’s polar expedition had such bad luck with ponies on ice, so surely this couldn’t be a good idea. Especially since the tour guide was insisting that we email someone before we leave, so they’d know where we’d gone in case anything happened.
But I really, really wanted to see that glacier. So I was going to go even though I knew better.
Fortunately, in the way of dreams, I woke up before I actually left the hostel. I think because my tour companions were too caught up in trying to order a pizza to do anything more useful.