We had an appointment with some horses at 2:30, the day after our fruitless search for Nessie.
Let me set the scene.
Rothiemurchus, National Park, Maddie and I in jeans and boots chewing gum like it was burning coals in our mouths. We were a little nervous.
“We are here for a horse ride at 2:15pm”
“Yes, Jessica O’Neill – two people?”
“Yes, that’s us!”
“We are riding through the national park, but we will have to walk on the road for a small part of the journey, are you ok with that? You have ridden before right? ”
“Oh well, when I booked the ride, I mentioned to the lady that we just wanted to do the beginners class, as I haven’t ridden a horse in over 10 years and Maddie is the same”
“Oh, well don’t worry, you will be fine. You have to be able to ride a horse for this ride, but you will be fine, we will walk beside you. Please read this disclaimer and sign here”
I read the disclaimer that basically said I am responsible if I die on the horse.
“Right where do I sign?”
Another one of those “does my travel insurance cover this” thought popped into my head.
Maddie and I sit patiently waiting for the last of our group to arrive. The silence explains the way we are feeling. Nervous, as if we are 10 minutes away from our grade 12 QCS test again.
So far the riders in our group consist of a 10 year old, 12 year old, 14 year old and her mum. We are the only ones who haven’t ridden.
We helmet up and are allocated our grand Mr Ed’s.
Maddie gets the slowest, most grass seeking, farting horse named Wizard and I get the calm and collected Tam (short for Thamas).
I was hoping not a bold stallion who was about to show off.
I actually had a brilliant hour on Tam.
He contained his brazen masculinity and I lived.