The Irish Riding Holiday Pt.2

When I was 16, I won a riding holiday to Ireland. Read the first part of my adventure here.

Over the next few days, I rode a variety of horses. Sometimes I rode one horse for the morning lesson and a different one for hacking out. There seemed to be no end to the number of sturdy, brave Irish horses and ponies the Sligo Riding Centre had available. We jumped in the lesson, and jumped fairly high – higher than I was used to jumping at home anyway. I began to be assigned a consistent horse, a big bay named Stubben. He had a nice jump but was spooky. My first time riding him, Ian told me, after I had dropped the reins to adjust my stirrups, “Don’t let go of the reins on a horse like this. I can give you a school horse if you want one.” 

One day, we rode a long ride down to the most magnificent stretch of beach I had ever seen. I didn’t even know Sligo was near the ocean! There was a massive expanse of hard packed sand, where the vast tide had receded, leaving kilometers of perfect open space to gallop. And gallop we did. The head rider, Eugene, pressed his horse and took off like a shot, and all the other horses followed suit. I had never galloped so fast before and felt completely out of control. I tried to rein in Stubben but it was like a fly trying to rein in an elephant – he completely ignored me.

Gerald’s horse galloped next to mine and Gerald shouted, “I can’t slow down!” with a wild grin on his face. Seeing his exhilaration, I realized there was nothing to be scared of. Where was Stubben going to go, what could he possibly do? He would just run, until he was tired, and I could let him go and enjoy it because there was nothing in our path but miles of perfectly firm sand. My fear turned to giddiness and I savored the moment, realizing it was probably the first time I had felt truly happy since my brother had died the year before.

That night I wrote in my travel journal: The best part of the day was the trail ride – we rode right through town into Coney Island, a beach with a low tide and galloped forever. It was the best!!! Words can’t describe how awesome it was. I hope we can go again :). 

We returned to the stable on a high, all of us talking and laughing. That night the Dutch trio, the Germans, and my mom and I stayed late at the table after dinner. One bottle of red wine had been finished over dinner and a second was opened. We played Crazy Eights with the deck of cards that were available. I learned the Dutch and German words for spade, club, heart and diamond – it was easy to play despite the language barriers.  

Gerald, always the life of the party, became increasingly animated as he enjoyed both the wine and the game. He amicably called me a “fucking bitch” when I took his cards, probably not fully understanding the weight of those specific swear words in the English language! As the night and conversation continued, he addressed me in German, spoke to the German couple in English, and generally lost track of which language he was speaking when. A glass of red wine was upended and our hostess kindly came to take away the white tablecloth, albeit with a somewhat stiffer manner than she had had prior in the evening. It was a good time to turn in. 

The next day I fell off. Stubben took a massive jump over an oxer, unseating me. When I went to get back on, he spooked and darted away with my foot half in the stirrup. Two falls in one day, oof.  

That afternoon I got to ride a pony and take a break from Stubben, which was a relief. Ponies were much more common in Ireland than they were back home in Canada. They were hardy creatures that could carry adults easily, and they were fun to ride. We rode up a strange trail far up a mountain until the trail we had been following all but disappeared into thick brush.  

From my travel journal: Eugene was guiding and he was having a hell of a time with his horse. He would spook and Eugene would wail it across the head with his whip. It was terrible. Then we rode into the forest - it was so thick and dark and the trail was mud up to their knees. Eugene was trying to get his horse to bushwhack and was whipping him so much - the horse was rearing and plunging and knocking into other people. Totally insane, the whole situation was. We finally hit the road and trotted back. I was so sore. My pony spooked and skittered onto the road when a car was coming and there was another Eugene incident! Also Gerald was taking off his jacket and his horse bolted around and around and didn’t stop till Gerald threw off his jacket.  

That night the operators had organized a night out on the town. There was never a dull moment on this trip! Being a very sheltered sixteen-year-old and with my mom in tow, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it was certainly not a full-on night club. The shuttle bus pulled up outside a place called Equinox with the bass thumping. I entered with trepidation, not sure what to expect. 

We went to this club - Equinox. There was all this loud music and tons of people and flashing neon lights and a dance floor. It was great – I wish there was something like it in Kimberley. And the people were my age-ish. I danced a lot and this guy was saying something to me and I couldn’t understand because it was so loud - it was weird. And someone was pinching my ass :( that wasn’t cool.

To this day, whenever I hear the robotic thump of Bloodhound Gang’s The Bad Touch, I am instantly transported to that night, that club, and that feeling of freedom. When you grow up in a very small town, it feels like everyone has already decided who you are. I was a teacher’s daughter, prim and proper. That night, I could be anyone I wanted to be. 

So could everyone else. Ian and Mikhail disappeared for a while and reappeared with bright eyes. My mom was convinced they were coked up, and, in retrospect, she was probably right.  

My last words in my journal about Equinox: Those old people were really getting into it. We left around 2 o’clock and went to bed. My hair smelled disgustingly of smoke. 

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for the last installment, in which I fall for the stable boy, Trevor, and the most awkward thing in the world happens.

Who wouldn’t have had a crush on sweet Trevor, the stable lad?