A day of rambling out and about in Cape Town. Sundays are busy days on the glorious Cape Town roads so that driving alone, as I was, it was difficult to stop and take photos that do this magnificent city justice. You will just have to visit and see for yourself – this is just a ‘toe in the water’ so to speak
Never noticed this before 😳
Steenberg winery where my lovely cousin’s equally lovely daughter recently married is the first farm (1682) developed in the Cape. So beautiful.
As if on cue.
As if to remind me how special.
As if to highlight what was.
The clouds have settled, the rain is streaming down, the shutters rattling and I can see absolutely nothing from my windows.
The lights are on, the chimney whistling, my hair washed (and smelling of roses and geraniums the bottle tells me), a hot coffee getting cold alongside me as I sit on my bed contemplating the amazing five days I have just had.
It all began with Kate Pilcher and her http://www.globetrotting.com.au. Or perhaps with something even older, a primeval horse-man thing stirring within and disturbed again by her.
Either way, at 63, with no more than ten horse rides on my life, I bite the bait 😂😂😂
And swallowed hook, line and sinker.
I did some sit ups (clearly not enough) some squats (clearly enough), borrowed riding gear, found some Dutch courage, a sense of humour, and have lived to tell the tale.
Every day we breathe has the potential to be an adventure, at home with the dog or across a continent with a horse and new friends.
So crazy as the idea was, and against sound advice and my own ‘adult voice’ I took the plunge
No regrets :
I have seen the sky filled with light from a million stars;
I have seen the moon appear like a silver sliver over the mountains;
I have felt the thrill of half a tonne of animal galloping beneath me on a beach, alone, with only the gulls, waves, sand, sun and a solitary seal as witness;
I have felt the pain of a body used;
I have marvelled at the skill and strength of those gone before whose only means of transport was horse;
I have witnessed beauty that no iPhone can do justice to.
As I savour the solitude of Farm 215 and Bruce’s amazing food for the last time, I give thanks, I know I have been fortunate
All good things…..
Following the old adage my mother taught me; always leave the table wanting more.
I did a short ride today, almost too short. But then again not.
Just perfect
It is a grey day today
The clouds blanket the sky so the mountains look somber, the grass ‘quiet’, sounds muted, birds more still, butterflies absent.
Our ride is appropriate.
Inland, along farm roads, between fields where sheep have their heads down, barely visible above the grass, where cattle lie or graze dulled by the absence of sun on their flanks.
We have new horses. Me on Willow (why are mine so large and my legs so short 😩), Julia on Princess and Randal on Whiplash. Different saddle too.
A time to test my body, just how well has it stood up, can I trot, canter? We shall see.
We warm up walking easily, Willow with a little more pace than Luke that makes for a more comfortable walk. Past springbok, dark and light, young ones too, mixing with hundreds of Guinea fowl.
We trot and all is well. We canter and I debate whether the desire to canter outweighs the pain in the back ( strange that, not the but 😂).
I hear my mother; leave something on the table. Quit while you ahead!
So we trot and walk for a few hours leaving cantering as a memory and a hope for future times.
We pass through groves of gum trees (go figure 😜) which on this gray day make sounds that mimic the sea when it’s grumpy as the wind moves through them.
Through a forest path so dark no photos came out and where we startle a duiker (makes a change from them startling us👏)
I watch a Bataleur roll above us, powerful in his world. Keeping pace with our trotting, rolling , dipping, disappearing.
A car stops to let us pass and I see a little girl, dummy in her mouth, on her fathers lap, to get a better view of us through the open window – eyes like saucers. Fascinated? Scared? Who knows, perhaps a seed is sown to follow in our footsteps one day
A special way to end 5 days of riding through some of the most exquisite scenery surely God ever created.
But wait, there’s more, lunch at Stanford Hills
Brave New World of Blogging 