Advertisement
Published: November 18th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Middle of nowhere
Our hotel in the middle of Welsh countryside I slept amazing! 7:30 rolled around and I was up and ready to go horseback riding. My outfit consisted of a weatherproof t-shirt, thermal long-sleeve shirt, thermal long johns, jeans, wool socks, and a coat. Nice and toasty. Breakfast was put on by the hotel and was a traditional British breakfast including eggs, toast, baked beans, sausage, and some sort of tomato gook. The sausage was unlike any sausage I’ve ever tasted and left the rest uneaten. Everything else was delicious.
As soon as our coach pulled away from the hotel, it started to rain. We were all giddy (no pun intended) and really excited to reach the horses. When we finally reached the stables, the rain had stopped but it was still pretty chilly. We filled out paperwork and got our fabulour riding hats. We were ready.
The entire group had to watch a demonstration by the guide lady, regardless whether anyone had ridden before or not. Apparently, the English and the Westerners ride horses differently. The guide demonstrated how to prepare the horses, introduce yourself to the horse so they don’t kick you, walk with the horses so they know you’re boss, mount and dismount, as well as steer.
She explained this all in about the same amount of time it took me to write this. Jessi was terrified; I just looked around nodding and smiling.
After this fast forwarded talk, the experienced riders got to meet their expereinced horses, and the inexperienced got to meet their nonchalant and lazy horses. My horse was Kit. I walked up to her completey unaware of what I was supposed to do, something about tightening girths and lengthening stirrups. I just said hi and pet her and fed her sugarlumps that I had taken from the mylanta milkshake shop the day before. I figured it was better to get her on my side. An experienced rider came up and helped me with the stirrups, so I shared my sugar lumps with her. The more happy horses the better.
As soon as we walked outside to mount the horses the weather turned sour again. One of the ladies brought me a waterproof jacket to put over my coat while we were inside and thank goodness she did. As soon as we started riding it started to rain. The horses are used to riding in lines so they liked to fall in their usual
places. Kit was the one horse who didn’t care what position she was in in line, so we just kept walking in circles until one of the horses let us in.
Important fact: Kit would not listen to me. She would only walk faster if the horse in front walked faster or the guide would yell from 7 horses away to hurry up. So I let Kit decide what we would do and I went along for the ride.
It rained and started hailing, literally, every 15 minutes or so. The wind was wicked and made the rain go sideways. All the sheep we passed were huddled in groups along the bushes looking at us as if we were crazy. The scenery we rode through was gorgeous. There were mountains and hills, and sheep dotting all of them.
Slowly throughout the ride, horses took it upon themselves to pass the group. Kit didn’t care which is why we, horse by horse, ended up being the 2nd from the last in line. Andrea’s horse insisted he wanted to be the last in line so she took up the back the entire ride. Toward the end, I think Kit sensed we were
getting closer to the stables. When the wind started gusting again, she decided she had had enough and it was time to trot home. So we took a right and trotted past most of the line until a car came along and ruined our fun. We weren’t 2nd to last anymore at least. A little after this we turned down the lane back to the stables. The experienced horses went off to cantor and the lazy ones sludged through the mud towards the stables. Emma’s horse, Harvey, simply decided he did not want to walk anymore so he stood for a literal 5 minutes and did not move, regardless of Emma begging. Andrea and I had tears we were laughing so hard. All the horses (minus Harvey) took the same path back to the stables except for Kit. Of course, she decided she wanted to go her own way back and there was nothing I could do to change her mind. So, we took our own way back.
At this point we had been riding horses for 2 hours. The guide said this was the point they offered anyone too cold, wet, or tired of riding, the chance to get
off and go inside. Anyone who wanted to continue riding, could. I was the only one to stay on my horse! I wasn’t freezing, I was still having fun (not too sure about Kit). I didn’t want to make anyone go out just for me so I got off. When we got into the stables, everyone was literally shaking except me. My pants were soaked and the windbreaker was soaked but I was still warm. Auntie’s socks were still dry. I was content besides the looks of hate from everyone else when I declared I wasn’t cold.
To make matters worse, we had finished riding an hour early so the coach wouldn’t be back to pick us up for another 45 minutes. Thankfully, I hadn’t decided to continue riding because the wind had become too dangerous and it had started pouring. Waiting for the coach, we all went into the little café attached to the stables where I had the most delicious whipped cream I’ve ever had in my life. It was almost like a butter cream.
When the coach finally arrived, we were all freezing and ready to get out of our wet clothes. We ran to the bus
and stripped off the wetness in the middle of the bus (there were only 2 boys on the trip and they were instructed to face forward). Dry clothes, aka everyone’s pajamas, were fantastic. I think my favorite outfit was Andrea’s, she had bright yellow animal pajamas tucked into her ugg boots.
Dressed a mess, we went to a local pub afterwards and waited while they cleared out to prepare for our big group. We got drinks from the bar to warm us while we waited. The most common choice being tea, I opted to say screw it and got a beer.
When we finally were seated, Jessi and I ordered a starter of mushrooms cooked in a garlic buttery sauce with parmesan cheese and basil. It was one of the best things I’ve eaten, ever. In the UK, Sunday roasts are traditional so in many of the restaurants and pubs, they have a special Sunday roast menu. I went for the Welsh beef roast. It came with potatos, parsnips, and Yorkshire pudding on the plate. For the table, it came with a plate of 5 steamed vegetables such as peas and carrots, and then a second dish of brocolli and
cauliflower cooked in a cheese and cream sauce. My plate was heaped with food and I ate every bit of it. I didn’t even know what Yorkshire pudding was, nor did I recognize I was eating parsnips until I’d eaten half of my meal. It was all delicious.
We were in the restaurant for almost three hours. We ran back to the bus through the nasty weather and all of us passed out, full, dry, and happy. On the drive back, we stopped in Oxford for a quick rest for the driver. It looks like a cute university town. Once we got back into London and into the hostel, we ditched the horse clothes and passed out.
On Monday it hurt to sit and walk. It was the one time I’ve caught the tube in the morning and had plently of seats available but no desire to sit down. My co-worker told me on Tuesday I had been walking funny on Monday but didn’t want me to know and feel silly.
It was definitely worth it, it was a great weekend.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.134s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 11; qc: 49; dbt: 0.0505s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb