Instead of a horn, there was a loop of metal. I rode like an English rider, ugh. Anyway, we trotted off the trail, around the calves playing, the cows chewing their cuds and galloped into the barn with dogs aroused. I’ll have bruises and happy sore legs tomorrow. Arnica application. The cowboy leading us sang soft songs and whistled and shouted “Tur!” when he wanted the horses to go faster and swatted them with his rope. Borir was very obedient. I had a great time!
|Forest Art with Monho|
|Coffee house staff|
|Soyloo, Honda (work at hostel),|
|Madeline: traveler of the world learning sustainable crafts.|