The first half of the horse trek was pretty calm and considered. Although neither of us had ridden for over a decade, we found ourselves wishing the guide would pick up the pace. After a short stop by the river I asked if we could trot or canter some of the way back. The guide obliged and we followed her speadily up the hill, revelling in the new found excitment. As I bravely (not smoothly) moved into a canter my previously obedient horse decided that she would rather stop suddenly than turn the corner. Thud. I fell off (apparently in slow motion) and hit the hard New Zealand turf like a tonne of bricks. I'm okay, just a wee bruised hip and shattered ego. I'm sitting here with a towel and ice wrapped around my rump. Still, there are worse places to be nursing an injury. The bed and breakfast we are staying at allows me to gaze at the mountains from the loungeroom window. I'm a happy girl.
0 comments:
Post a Comment