The ride
Trip Start
Sep 11, 2008
1
14
15
Trip End
Oct 16, 2008
Felanitx, Balearic Islands, Spain
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Son Menut itinerary can be found at http://www.infohub.com/TRAVEL/SIT/sit_pages/19901.html However, don't be mislead. The actual events of day two were described in my previous "Nevado" entry, with the addition of an afternoon trail ride of about 90 minutes.
It's also interesting to learn what different operators expect of their clients. For example, some outfits want clients to do absolutely no tacking or grooming of the mounts. Others expect riders to do everything, completely groom the horse, and even clean and oil the tack (my experience on the Wales ride two years ago). Son Menut had us brush the horse's back prior to saddling and bridling our critters then pick hooves prior to the ride. At the end of the day, if the horses worked hard, we would remove the tack then hose down and squeegee the horse, then lead them to their individual stalls. I liked San Menut's procedure for two reasons. First, it helps to bond with the horse. Second, it's a learning experience - it seems that there's always something a little different in the tack they use or the way outfits tack their horses.
Rather than repeat the itinerary (it's listed in the link above) I'll just speak to the ride. There is really no criticism due. It's a very professionally run operation. Joe was a great guide, very informative about the history, topography, scenery, flora, etc. of the area. He had fun stories to tell as we progressed on the ride, such as pointing out the house in which Christopher Columbus was reputedly born. The only disappointment was Joe's refusal to allow galloping. We had a fair share of trotting and cantering, but Joe told us galloping was out of control riding. I disagree, but didn't argue - it's his show.
Joe placed us in specific riding order on Wednesday, the first "real" prolonged riding day. Somehow he must have learned about my tendency toward delinquency. Yours truly was put in second place, directly behind the leader. I don't know if this was to keep an eye on me or Nevado's temperament. He did explain that Nevado had been used in the past as lead horse; perhaps that's the reason for my positioning. He also gave specific instructions about staying in line while trotting and cantering. Obviously this was primarily for safety, but it also made us look professional. As we completed the Friday's ride, we observed another riding group that was in complete disarray and out of control - horses going every which way, some walking others trotting or cantering. Our group looked very proficient in comparison.
Susan entertained the group on Friday. I wish I'd have had my camera ready but my crystal ball wasn't working well that day. We'd stopped in the sand dunes for a breather when her gelding decided his back needed scratching. Without warning he dropped to his knees, shed Susan, then proceeded to thrash about on his back, saddle and all, rolling just like a dog. Although taken by surprise, fortunately Susan wasn't hurt in the process. However, she was certainly the brunt of jokes for the remainder of the ride.
Son Menut is a finca (farm). They had their own home orchard and vineyard. Part of the wine we could purchase at dinner was bottled at the finca - a nice product. However, what was best was the fresh squeezed orange juice accompanying breakfast each morning.
Another of the fun experiences about riding in foreign countries is eating new foods. As you would expect we ate cuisine typical to Mallorca - meat, cheese, fruit & vegetables. It always amuses me to watch the reaction, usually of finicky Americans, when entrees such as rabbit are offered. God Lord folks, that's part of the reason to do foreign travel! Take a chance, expand your horizons! The silliness of some reactions is amazing to me - you'd think they were being offered poison! When you're dining with the Johnsons, ya eat what the Johnsons serve. However, for those that were fussy eaters, each night's menu contained two entrees - usually something that everybody should be satisfied with.
Prickly pear cactus is found on Mallorca. I told Joe that I'd heard that the buds, when ripe, are edible and quite good. For years I'd wanted to try eating them but ya don't see many prickly pears in rainy, cold Western Oregon. He explained that gloves must be worn when picking them because of the tiny inconspicuous spines thereon that when imbedded in the skin are quite uncomfortable for several days. That night following dinner, I asked one of the staff to borrow a glove. She gave me a glove and a plastic container for the buds. When I reappeared at the dinner table, Howard looked curiously at my acquisition and questioned me what it was for. I held up my index finger and told him he'd have to wait until the following evening to find out.
Late the next afternoon, I located a cactus, and carefully plucked a couple of buds. As instructed, I used a knife to peal the outer skin thus removing the threat of uncomfortable spines. I returned to Son Menut, entered the dining room and displayed the buds. Following cutting the buds into bite sized pieces and explaining what I'd done, I offered them to my cohorts. Most were reluctant, but Roger didn't hesitate popping one into his mouth right off. When he gave his "seal of approval" the remainder of the folks partook. It was a nice appetizer.
