It was cold and wet and rainy this morning, enough that we nearly turned tail. Instead we gingerly mounted our horses and set off. I hadn’t been on a horse since I was about 13 and that time I fell off. Before that, I rode a few times aged around 9 and fell off. I didn’t fall off today, so clearly something has changed over the decades. However, maybe it’s just the weight and I’m less easy to fling off. In any event, the Gentleman Friend was far more nervous than I was, as I at least remembered the sensation of being on horseback, whereas he has never ridden regularly at all.
The trail was on private land and went by some fields and then along a hillside plunging down to a steep-sided valley. It was jewel green and very beautiful and misty. On the opposite hillside some cows grazed, looking as though they should fall off the steep slope.
The trail became a narrow muddy forest path – it was both a relief to be on horseback and not have to wade through mude and climb steep rocky slopes, but also nervewracking as the horses slipped several times and had to lunge up uncertain slopes which, to an inexperienced rider such as myself, evoked vision of falling and being crushed under the body of the horse.
We eventually arrived at our destination, three pools descending through a gap in the hills with a fierce waterfall above the highest one. It was absurdly beautiful, a cleft in the hills filled with greenery, the small river tumbling down, the clear pools enclosed in rocks and the furious waterfall. We swam across the first pool and clambered up the rocks to the second, through an unexpectedly fierce gush. Then on to the pool, where the water was strong enough to make a sort of whirlpool effect so we could not get very close. There was a sort of semi-circular scoop out of the rocks and we clambered up to look down through the cleft over the jungle. Our guide pointed out some large rounded boulders a few metres above our heads, flung there by the waterfall in the previous year’s heavy rains. Quite impressive.
On the way back we slide down the boulders between the pools, they made a perfect little waterslide, giving a surprisingly amount of speed.
As we had lunch the guide told us that his family was the one that provides our meals and if we would have dinner tonight he’d catch some fish. What followed was a rather amusing scene as he tried to catch fish using bait of scrambled eggs and, later, a particularly vicious looking worm with immense jaws, to no avail. Well, the first would be tilapia, he said, but the beef was very good and he knew this because he’d slaughtered it himself. So I decided to have the beef for dinner and it was indeed very good.
Riding was easier on the way back, partly because I think we sank into the rhythms and mostly because it was uphill rather than muddy slides downhill. I did get a little compliment on my seat but I think he was being generous as I returned extremely sore and with my trousers ripped to shreds.
Then a lovely warmish shower and a beautiful sunset, followed by that steak for dinner.
And a good piece about new colonialism.