Day 10: Rest Day (Horsing Around)

Ever since we knew we were coming to Ireland, we had been contriving to gallop stallions along a beach. Today we were going to make that dream a reality. Having gone through the pre-flight preparations, we fired up our temporary home and drove it through Sligo and Grange to the Island View Stables.

Mum, Emily and Dad all boasted various amounts of equestrian experience - Dad from his bearded-hippy gypsy caravanning days, Mum and Emily from more conventional riding lessons. Of the two complete beginners, Greg was bullishly confident up until the point that he saw the horses and remembered how big they are. Tom was nervous about the whole thing, not helped by tales we heard from riders returning from their treks. Like veterans coming back from the front lines, a small girl with a shellshocked expression emptied her wellies of cold salt water, re-living the moment her horse decided to lay down in the sea. Her dad had to eject from his horse when it decided to have a roll around in the sand. We started to wonder what we'd let ourselves in for.

Thinly veiled apprehension as we wait to meet our horses

Getting the hang of it

Undeterred, we were kitted out in boots and helmets and assigned our steeds for the next hour. We set out in a line, led by a girl from the stables. Signs were bad for Greg from the start as Gyppy failed to keep up the pace and no amount of kicking could get her out of first gear. With the girls disappearing over the horizon, we reached the end of a track and emerged onto a vast white beach. By now in complete harmony with our horses, we negotiated boulder fields and forded a raging stream before unleashing the full unbridled force of our beasts in a thundering gallop (slow trot) along the beach. Even Greg's liability of a horse managed to step up to a gentle trot for a couple of seconds. Mum and Emily looked like naturals as their riding experience kicked in and they gracefully handled the bouncing trot. Greg looked like a helpless rag doll as his handle broke and he held on for dear life with his legs.

All too soon, we were back at the stables and relieved to be in one piece. That night as we wearily tucked into our bar meal, overlooking Oyster Island, we reminisced about a memorable day in the saddle.

Probert HQ and our second dramatic sunset in as many nights