The spirited Diego

Kalispera Family and Friends!

Last night I noted a small ad in the back of my tourist map for a public stables, with guided tours along the water. It became fixed in my mind, and I would not be denied. Hotel reception rang the place the next morning, and at ten I was installed on the public bus to a small town up the coastline.

The bus stops are few between, stopping more of an 'on-demand' kind of thing, something I figured out only after we'd passed the turnout for the stables by a couple kilometers.... Greatful I'd skipped my morning run, I jogged back to the turnout, then the long dusty road to the ranch. I slipped into the rented jodhpus and riding helmut, and felt quite dashing; may have overstated my equestrian experience a tad.

They saddled up the spirited Diego.

Just me and my guide (a local dude wearing a Harley Davidson tee), we took off at a bright clip. I managed to stay astride, a strong grip on Diego's mane, more than the reins. After a bit we encountered what I considered to be a very large mob of scruffy Greek sheep, and my guide voiced his dismay. Immediately, he began to cut his horse back and forth, herding them in some direction known only to him. On the spirited Diego, I attempted to help and attempted to stay out of the way, alternately scattering sheep and pissing off my horse....

I thought maybe I'd gotten the hang of it when Diego spied the ranch in the distance. In one beat, he took his bit in his teeth and we flew over the hill to the ranch, the sheep, the guide, abandonded. Sigh.

In Greece they enforce that 'get back on the horse' rule, and even though I'd only been humiliated but not fallen, they took my saddle off Diego and cinched it on a school house mare, so fat it barely reached round her middle. This girl knew one gait and one path to the beach, and she took it regardless of the whereabouts of my guide. We hit the shore at her steady walk. My eyes took in the feast of sights around me -- blue skies, blue ocean, white surf, and bronze men. Lots of bronze men. Yes, that's right, this portion of the beach was definitely clothing optional, clearly popular with the old-Greek-naked-man crowd. Can you imagine how much suntan lotion...?? Anyway, my plodding lady went right through the center of it all, naked men skittering nimbly, unencumbered, out of her way. I was the ignored wisp clinging to her chubby sides.

And that is the beginning and the end of my equestrian career on Kos Island. Worth every penny. When I tell the story again, I will have been better at hearding thos friggin sheep :-)

Tomorrow a.m. early boat to Bodrum!

Love T