Well, kind of... Yesterday I did manage to be possibly the worst trail guide in history when Hubert entrusted me to take the newly arrived Swedish girls out on a ride. We got back reasonably late from the airport and it was past 7 before we headed out and in 2.5 hours I managed to get us completely lost in the forest before finding a trail back to home soil. And as the sun went down, I tell you, I fully realised just how the werewolf tales came to be... that is some scary shit.
It wasn't so much the forest itself that's scary, it's the possibility of running into a bear, or a (regular) wolf or even shepherd dogs - they're the scariest because they're always around. The bear and wolf thing is more unlikely but because it was getting dark I thought it might've been feeding time. And it wasn't so much us I was worried about, it was the 4 week old foal that was running alongside its mummy as we rode. Cute as a button but a walking meat on a stick for any nighttime predators. So I smile away as I went down wrong turn after wrong turn - who knew my theory of "you just go down" was a little waylaid when you're surrounded by gullies - and eventually found my way.
Truth be told, it was actually one of my funniest rides ever, given I was on my new fave horse Goody, he was a killer bushbasher (ran into an itchy tree or annoying insect at one pt and had to quickly disembark before he rolled on top of me) and made those steep gullies his bitch. And anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE a good bushbash on horseback. It was only afterwards I found out one of the Swedish girls didn't like going downhill. Doesn't mind so much now :) Welcome to the Wilson School of Riding.
Oh, and yesterday I think I saw a dead teenage boy on the side of the road. I think he got hit by a car. There were police etc but they were just standing around looking at his body, which was sprawled in an awkward position on the sidewalk (no blood though). Heavy.
Today, being Sunday, we took a horseback stroll to the neighbouring village. The four of us found a shop (ie a hole in the backyard of someone's house that had cold beer and chips - super sweet), had a couple of cold'uns and jumped back on to head home as it started to pour. All good, though, it was a welcome change to sunlight and warded the mozzies off if only for a short while.
When we got back, H took the most vicious dog off its rope to introduce it to us (it was lovely) then one of the other dogs started it and I witnessed my first hectic dog fight. One was attached mouth to neck, the other mouth to leg.... shudder. I didn't know whether to jump in and help or just stand - I chose the latter. Maybe next time I'll help. Maybe.
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