Back on the beast.
Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
332Trip End Ongoing
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Now I tried horse riding when I was a kid. I climb on, it bolted, I cried, I climbed off. I've never been back on, save once to get over an ex girlfriend by scaring myself witless. It didn't work.
My horse is called Pia Blanca. White foot. I was relieved to see he was in pretty decent shape, and he didn't look like a walking rib cage. Some of these flea bitten beasts are more of an afterthought. Underfed and overworked. My starving pony.
The trek is exhilarating, including a swim in the warm waters of the crater lake. However the best is yet to come. I've never galloped on a horse. As we turn back onto the trail, and controlling my terror, I spur Pia into action. I lose my hat, but I gain my pride. It was a fair trade off.
I'm totally buzzing when I return to the hostel, with a view to playing football with the boys again in the afternoon. That feeling of the wind in my hair, totally caning it flat out on the back of the horse, in the stunning volcanic countryside will never leave me. I can't wait to do it again. I'm going to get back in the saddle as much as I can on this trip. For years I was afraid, yet for years I wanted to gallop a horse on a beach. An odd juxtaposition. And now finally, 24 odd years after falling off crying, I'm back on laughing. Trust me when I say that's a wonderful feeling.
After another footy session, one in which I give a better account of myself, we take to the town. Last night in Leon. As luck would have it, a young man I chat to is interested in my vision. He's also friends with a woman who runs a charity called "Futbol Sin Fronteras". Football Without Limits. Where is this wonderful opportunity? Granada, Nicaragua. Where are we going tomorrow? Granada, Nicaragua.
Now I don't usually buy into karma, but someone somewhere was smiling down on me today. I've a pretty good idea who it was.