Iceland review - 2007, Page 91

16 ICELAND REVIEW
The rain tumbles down in sheets as our captain
ducks into the cockpit sporting sleep-tussled
hair and heavy bags underneath his eyes.
This bedhead look might leave some men looking
sprightly and youthful, but I find this unsettling as
this is the man who is about to pilot me across the
Norwegian Sea from Ice land to Sweden.
Appearances be damned – at 5 a.m. the pilot
doesn’t have anyone to impress besides me and the
19 other passengers currently being loaded into the
aft com partment. Even though these passengers will
be offered no coffee or tea, no in-f light movie, and
no window seats, they won’t protest much – apart
from pawing the ground or the occasional whinny.
Today I take the pony express, Icelandair’s weekly
direct f light to Nyköping in southern Swed en, with
a dozen and a half of the nation’s finest steeds in its
cargo hold.
Jonas Moody tails one Icelandic horse from farm to farm as
the beast takes the fateful one-way flight out of the nation.
HORSEFEATHERS
PhotoS by Páll StefánSSon