Adventure

We squeezed in a great adventure before the lock down. A wild weekend so exciting, a true and rare thrill with very little regard for health or safety.

She's brave enough to ride fast with me these days. After many years of riding and falling off horses my eldest daughter is starting to fear less and enjoy the adrenaline associated with hard and fast gallops. We headed east on our Mediterranean island to a stables run by the original mallorquin cowboy for a night in a tepee, riding ex-racehorses and those who had been given a second chance. I worried about her being on that big and spirited gelding - a few hands taller than our naughty pony, Spot - but she looked good up there, comfortable and fully in control of her steed. I was so proud; these days like dreams as we galloped into the sunset, chips of stone flying and the clatter of metal shoes thundering in unison - past orange trees and barking dogs, past olive groves and newly born lambs. She had never been so fast, but I could see as she turned to me as we slowed, that adventure had lit up her very being. She had experienced utter freedom on a horse, the pure joy of galloping without fear, she sweetly patted him - thanking him for his grace and power.

We untacked the tired horses at our tent for the night, throwing the saddles on the ground and feeding the hungry animals once they had cooled. Early March being cold in Mallorca, we were so grateful to huddle around a quickly made fire, drinking wine out of plastic mugs and sharing stories of travel and the equines in our lives - into the early hours. She sat there with me, as I slowly inebriated myself along with the others, listening to our tales and poking the fire in a trance. We crawled into sleeping bags, all five of us as the horses wandered around grazing on sparse plants and grasses. Freezing, drunk and truly happy.

Awoken by hoopoes and partridges, after needed coffee and sticky pastries we were off again, in a crazy manner, back to where we had started. With views of the sea to the north, tantalising and glistening in the distance, promising summer swims and long days. With vibrant green buds on the twisted fig trees and blankets of spring flowers in the fields as we jig-jogged home. She asked when we could do it again, before it was even over.

Soon I said. Very Soon. Little did I know.