122. Horses in the Wild West 2.0 – and Buzzcuts

Everything is the same old here in Maputo, except now I have an exuse to take it easy, so here I am chilling on the couch while Niamh is messing around in the kitchen preparing our payback-lunch for our guests arriving in a couple of hours. We are passing the hours in the appartment not-so-patiently waiting to hear back from any of the inquiries we’ve sent out to people begging them to take us on as volunteers. As we are running out of Netflix shows to watch we have also started different projects to save our sanity; Niamh a creative medal board for her dad and myself, I’ve started to draw.

After the success of our last visit to El Paso, we headed down there again early Saturday morning. This time the sky was clear and the sun was out and Niamh had her “GoPro” ready to capture the ride. We set out on a different treck with different horses, however we didn’t get very far before our ride was cut short. Suddenly a dog appeared on the trail ahead of us and the instructor’s horse started and the next second took off back the way we had come. Then my horse saw its chance and bolted, gallopping right after the first horse. I had no control over the horse and the only thing I knew was that I must stay on the horse so I focused all my energy to keep seated. And I did stay on for a short while, and for a second I actually believed I’d be able to ride it out, but then, to my dread and horror, I felt that my one foot had fallen out of the stirrup and then it didn’t take long for me to fall off as well. I could hear the instructor yelling commands at her horse behind the bushes and as my horse turned to follow the other horse I felt myself slipping and then the sandy ground slamming against my side while I my horse dissappeared around the bushes without me. Quickly I dragged myself to the side thinking any minute Niamh and her horse would follow in full speed, but nothing. I sat up cathing my breath, feeling the blow on my side and being confused with Niamh’s absence – her horse barely flinched throughout this ordeal, and she even had to give it a kick to get it to slowly walk in our direction. Up I got and followed back to the gate where the instructor waited with the now calm two horses. The shock and adrenalin had me light headed and I did not get back on the horse, despite the instructor’s insistence. As I limped back shaky with adrenalin, blurred vision and a throbbing leg my only thought was to make it back into the saloon so I could collapse onto the sofa. Here I was met with the most attentive care, they brought me water and helped me wash my scrapes and after a cup of tea my nerves were calmed – how british of me.

Update: This evening Niamh finally decided that tonight was the night to lose that mess of a hair – I wish I could say the same. I grabbed the buzzer and expertly removed every strand of hair longer than 19mm from her scalp.

There is a good reason for the plastic bag over the flash, this we have learnt