Colours in my life

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Quaint Krakow

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We arrived in Krakow on a super short commuter flight from Budapest and spent most of the weekend wandering about the charming town, constantly watching out for rogue trams that want to run us over. Our first afternoon was a delightful stop in the large market square to sit on a terrace, drink local beer, eat a lovely plate of cured sausages and meats with a kickass fresh horseradish purée, and watch the parade go by on National Constitution Day. Somehow, we often arrive in a new city on their national holiday. Krakow town square and basilica In the town square, m any fine carriages and horses are in line, with beautiful women in black hats with white ribbons driving the carriages. Its so unusual to see only women driving so many large carriages, that I took notice. At first, I thought it was because of the parade. Later that day, I watch the carriages circulating with passengers and the pretty lady is up front doing nothing while an old peasant dressed man is driving the carri
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Prague, dark and moody

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When asked what I thought about Prague I always answered the same thing : dark. My last trip here dates to almost twenty years ago, in a cold November week where I spent most of my time drinking hot mulled wine in the old town square avoiding gypsies. Tales of ghosts, hidden passageways and underground tunnels, the stark period of the iron curtain, torture museums, castle dungeons ... it was all dark. Tyn Church in the iconic town square A view down the Vltava River A view up the Vltava River towards Prague Castle (from Vysehrad Castle) A view down the Vltava River from the Vysehrad Castle. Its a windy sailing day. Fast forward in time and there are some differences but Prague is still moody. Tourists are abundant and things that used to be free are now being charged at every opportunity. We are struggling with all the currency we are handling and their respective conversions (Hungarian forint, Euros, Polish Zlotis, Czech Crowns ... and soon British pounds)
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Canter Protocol

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I do lots of different kinds of rides, with lots of different kinds of riders. But cantering always has me stumped. I have an established checklist of rules, but not everybody shares my view on this. Here is the short version I do not ride on trail with anybody who is not comfortable cantering their horse (at least in an arena). I don't want their first canter experience to be the spook and bolt when their horse sees a deer. I will occasionally make an exception to this rule for very short and controlled trail rides within proximity to the barn. I do not race. The order we start in, must be maintained until the end. No passing. With some of my trail buddies we will canter side by side, and it is glorious! I do not gallop. I have made a few exceptions to this rule with individuals that I trust, and on a trail I know well. The gallop stretch never lasts very long. I do not canter up ravines or anywhere I do not have a long line of sight. Again, I sometimes make exceptions to this on
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My worst hour

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We were midway on what was to be our longest day. We had just met with the ground crew after a lovely swim across a river where my Nippissi greedily drank after four hours in the dry canyons. We dropped off one of our guides and switched it out to have one of the volunteers join us for the afternoon drive. We would be without help, water, or access to civilization for the next four hours. I chose to carry on. One of the guests bowed out. We followed our young intrepid guide up the road, and then crossed a gate. I remembered the stories told on the first night about accidents happening on this section. The gopher and badger holes create tripping hazards for the horses, and one very skilled rider and horse flipped over at a full gallop with the horse crushing the pelvis of the rider. The supposed lesson learned about this story is that we must pay attention, and if we feel ourselves fall to just let go. Other stories of rattlesnakes were told.  So here we were, following our leader throu
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Pocketful of mints, aka the slowroll

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It has been over twenty-five years since I did a solo trail ride bareback. Today was the day. Q was amazing, and gave me the confidence to ride on the buckle most of the way. When we came up to a road crossing, I got nervous because I could hear an unseen car climbing the road and was afraid it was the roadster sans muffler that had been gunning it up and down the road earlier. So I asked Q to trot, and he steadily complied with the smoothest transitions. Comfy and confident! The last time I had done this was with my first QH Rocky that I moved from Canada to Costa Rica (in the winter - bad idea) to live on the Pacific Ocean with me. We would go ride on the beach and in the ocean and bareback was the way to go. It was mostly walking around and I honestly don’t remember galloping bareback since my poney days as a teenager. Of course my new best friends bareback pad is amazing. It provides a little cushion, gives a stickiness to my seat with the suede-like top and adheres to Q
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