Still on our horse trek, we mounted after a good sleep at the Pastor's pension and before taking off for good, stopped in on the little church where me and E walked around while I cooled my tempter at the annoying guests - one of whom suggested ever so kindly that he'd told us how to put the tent up the night before so he wasn't helping again. I almost throttled him. I could put that tent up in my sleep. While throttling him.
We rode on through to another village, where we stopped for a beer and a good old-fashioned pimping. Yes, H finds it increasingly hilarious to offer me up to only-too-willing locals who think I'm the best thing since sliced bread (literally) for their sons.
Only problem is, I kinda like the idea of marrying for love. And if I DIDN'T marry for love, my prospective partner should at least possess material goods, a becoming face and body or something to be used for my personal gain. So I at least get something out of it. I'm not so impressed with a 30 year old that still lives with his parents in a house two steps up from a shack in Romania, with a hole in the ground toilet, can speak hardly any English and with no appealing quality besides nice blues eyes. So you can imagine how pleased I was that H managed to get us to their house for some stupid reason, but really to laugh at the women trying to play matchmaker. I quietly smiled and avoided eye contact with the guy at all costs.
After that little episode, we were back on the horses, did some more little gallops (yay!) - I've discovered I have the fastest horse - and got to the next village we were staying at reasonably well-timed. Although we were in a village, we camped out - us girls in the shelter of a tent outer cover just to screen from mozzies (not so successful) and the others in tents or outside on the hay.
The guests were still bugging me so I was glad when I went to bed - unfortunately, I didn't get much sleep but that did mean I awake to hear L sleep-talking in Swedish. Funny. Hehe. I'm such a child.
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