Iceland review - 2019, Side 97

Iceland review - 2019, Side 97
95 Iceland Review handled, nor would it be the last. A quick look at the reindeer’s teeth, and they know its age. Eleven minutes later, the animal is unrecognisable – furs, antlers, and meat ready for the next step in the process. Guiding light Even though the East Icelanders never learnt the Sami way of reindeer herding, there are plenty of people who make their living off the reindeer. The first time I see reindeer guide Siggi Aðalsteins, he’s dressed for the part. 'How much camou- flage is there in the world?' I find myself thinking. The next time I see him, the evening before heading out to the hunting grounds, he’s wearing a colourful night gown chomp- ing on cod liver. We say goodnight. The first sight upon waking is him chugging a bottle of cod liver oil. He runs on fat - it’s essential for a man who spends his days hiking for hours on end, following herds of animals through the wilderness. For a dedicated reindeer guide such as Siggi, each day starts with a reading of the recap of the previous day’s hunt from the Environmental Agency’s website. “Eiríkur with one, hunting a cow. Felled near Hvammsá. That’s not at all where they got her,” says Siggi. “Not everyone knows geography,” his son Aðalsteinn laughs. The season is a near 24/7 gig for the guides. They barely stop to sleep. For these men, hunting is life. Each day, new hunters arrive, ready for their one hunting day of the year. They’ve passed a marks- manship test and won the golden ticket in the reindeer hunting license lottery. By now, they’re eager to get their hands on a reindeer. Siggi himself guided 92 separate kills last summer. The hunt is on 10:13. The day starts in Digranes, in the far northeast of Iceland. The plain is wide open, the kind of place which has never experienced calm air. Today is no excep- tion: the wind beats your face with the sharpness of a morning chill. Apparently, a herd had been spotted in the area. On the way here, we see a council of ravens devouring a fallen sheep. Rat-tail flutter- ing in the wind, Siggi inspects the horizon for signs of reindeer. “They’ve hung out here all summer long. They’re on show for
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