Today started out well. We are now in Praia Do Forte and are leaving tomorrow to make our way back to Salvador. The trip from Salvador to here was a bit daunting because although it is only a 2 hour bus ride, the scenery was filled with small functioning towns, horses and fields. None of which I was prepared for. In the guidebook, Praia Do Forte sounded like a haven of activity and less populated beaches, shopping and restaurants... and it was.
Among some of the activities was visiting a place called TAMAR. Here, right off the beach, was a conservation to save turtles and other ocean friends. The turtles were amazing and some very large. They also had interactive pools where we got to touch sting rays (without the sting) and ocean slugs(?).
We then went down to the water and splashed around a bit before we moved to our next activity. Very fun and refreshing. The water here is not as warm as I remember Hawaii or the Philippines being, but nonetheless just as rewarding.
We came back to our pousada awaiting our guide for horseback riding. Of course we are trying to make the most of our trip and opted to ride for 2 hours. Miles asked me if I had ever ridden a horse before at which I replied yes. When he tried to dig for details I didn~t really reply. I actually beleive I only rode one once when I was in Mexico when I was very young with my uncle or something. Other than that maybe a pony or two at an amusement park.
With the best game face I have, I procceeded to mount the horse- and I made it! We began to move- oh boy. Miles gave me a quick crash course on riding and I tried to retain as much as I could between my anxiety and A MOVING HORSE. I pretty much got the gist and before long I was actually able to look up and take in some of the scenery. Palm trees, lush greens, strange creatures crawling around and then a strange smell... like manure... it was. The horse leading us was doing the ..2. That~s cool, that~s cool. I can stomach this. It~s natural! It~s nature! So on we went to a closed private area and followed the trail beside the gate. The trail was very narrow at this point and there were little hills in the road. Coming off one of these hills my horse began to wig out. I~m not quite sure what it wanted me to do but I was imagining that it wanted to stand on its hind legs and give out a neigh. Our guide calmed him down, who by the way did not speak the inglais. It was then I began to wonder why they had put me on this horse and not the one that Miles was on who seemed very calm, especially since they did ask us which of the two of us had more experience.
We moved on to even narrower areas. Like, I was ducking and brushing up, practically running into plants. My horse kept looking back at me, I wondered what he might be thinking. I began to ponder the relationship between animal and man, how special it was and unique with each different person to animal. The friendship that grows. Maybe the horse thought, "This girl is not my friend". Which might explain why he seemed to have his own agenda. Despite my tender nudges with my feet to the sides of his body (afterall how would you feel if you were being kicked especially if you didn~t know your attacker) he decided to stop and eat. My guide hurried him along. This made me nervous. It occurred to me that this horse is much larger, much stronger and much faster than I could ever imagine wanting to go. It reminded me of my roller blade accident and not having the control to stop, but much worse, this was a living, breathing HORSE. I calm myself. I think of other things... life, love, leaves, the horse in front of me is shitting again, and where is Miles? oh there he is-good, wow, I~m horseback riding--- what is my horse doing? coughing, sneezing, choking? Okay, he~s fine, the guide doesn~t seem too worried... but he~s still doing it. Alright the guide calmed the horse down.
It was about this time that I remembered what Miles had told me right after we had arranged for this ride. He was telling me about the time he and his mother went riding in Barbados and they were really bummed because they were lead by a man walking along side the horses. He was hoping that we wouldn~t have the same dilema. Well, we didn~t. Nope, it was just us on horses.
We stopped for about a half hour to check out this castle. Left the horses and our guide while we roamed the grounds. I was pretty excited and Miles was proud about how well I was holding up. Miles was having a great time as he wants to have a ranch someday (or at least a pinto named Hidalgo). He wanted to just let the horse run full speed- and I, well I am just happy to even be on one.
When we came back I was ready to take it all in again. We started to approach a sandy area. There was no preparing me, the horse had its own agenda. Riding along and all of a sudden I begin to sink, or feel like I~m sinking or shrinking- no the horse is sitting down,maybe? yes oh my god, what is he doing? I need to get my leg from out under his body because now he is rolling on his back like Giant in the sand. This gigantic animal kind of pushed/nudged me, rather surprisingly, off of his back to, I don~t know, play? in the sand. Do horses do that? Nobody elses horse did that. In fact nobody elses horse did anything but walk and poop.
After mounting the horse following this debacle and demounting it because the horse was OUT OF CONTROL, we did a little switch-a-roo. Miles got the guides horse, the guide rode my horse, and I got Miles calm horse. Calm being the operative word here. So calm he did not want to move. Miles and the guide motioned me to kick harder. First of all, as I mentioned earlier I~m not comfortable with harming an animal especially one I don~t know and is bigger than me, and second, my legs just didn~t seem long enough to get a good kick. The guide came over and took a crop from the saddle and showed me how to hit the horse. No go. He finally took the rope and guided me while riding his horse. Meanwhile Miles was having a grand time because his new horse was very peppy and seemed ready to run at anytime. By this time we were on a beach and it was pretty incredible.
However, discomfort began to grow on me. Because my horse was now connected to the guide, he could go as fast as he wanted and we were definately going faster. Walking became trotting. Miles and I believe that the guides horse was still walking, but faster, while our horses opted to trot. We could tell because we were bouncing up and down like two jack-in-the-boxes and the guide just sat on his horse enjoying his ride. The rest of the ride back we bounced up and down. In some cases, in my opinion, violently. I began to feel sick. Miles, coping with these sudden earthquakes by applying his cantering skills, was still trying to ask me about the debacle in the sand when I had to ask him to refrain from speaking to me as I was concentrating on a spot, much like dance class while doing turns across the floor. After waiting near a dead carcass full of buzzing flies for someone to undo barbed wiring for us to pass, riding along the busy road and other plants running into my face, all the while bouncing and returning smiles and waves to the passing cars, we finally got to GET OFF THE HORSES.
We had a late lunch while discussing the events of the day and most importantly asked ourselves- why? I want to live life, but does life want me to live it? For those of you who may not be familiar, I am not the luckiest person when it comes to such activities as swimming, climbing mountains, roller blading, or just being outdoors at times. I am not what one would call "a natural" at activities involving nature.
When we woke it was time for dinner. Instead of having our normal meat served with potatoes AND rice diet (that~s right, you get both with practically every meal) we opted for Italian. I couldn~t wait to have some ravioli. We got to pick a sauce and stuffing: cheese, spinach, or carne. As tempting as the latter two sounded I couldn~t resist that good ole classic filling. When our ravioli arrived I was very excited because every meal we had eaten so far was delicious. When I cut into my succulent ravioli it was cheese- but not riccotta. Cheddar? Monterey jack? Melted no less. Two starches for dinner, okay, but why would anyone put any other kind of cheese in a ravioli?
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