Yesterday I explored the Cleggan area of Connemara in a different way – by horseback. And let&

Yesterday I explored the Cleggan area of Connemara in a different way – by horseback. And let’s just say that my horseback riding experience in Ireland reminded me a bit of my snowmobiling experience in Iceland: trying something new(ish) and having moments of complete panic and awkwardness amid really cool scenery. Let me back up for a moment. The last time I got on a horse was nearly 30 years ago when I took lessons – and eventually stopped because one day I freaked out after they out me on a horse that was too big and too fast and too uncontrollable (or that’s what it felt like at the time). Yesterday, after telling one of the guides that I was basically a newbie at this point, I expected him to give me a slow, small, gentle pony like several I’ve seen in pastures while wandering around this week. Their windswept bangs! Their furry feet! I was in love, already envisioning a leisurely saunter to the beach. In my group of riders there was a mother with her 6- or 7-year-old daughter, and a teenage girl, all of whom obviously had (recent) experience. I watched one of the guides bring out two adorable ponies for the mother and daughter. Then a small white horse for the teenager. Then… a gigantic brown horse that was tall enough to see over the others’ heads. “Hmmm okay,” I thought. “Must be the guide’s horse. My pony is still probably ambling his way out of the stable. Right? Right?!” But nope. Archie the Giant was mine. Or, to put it more accurately, I was his. It was pretty obvious to him early on that I had no idea what I was doing – and because he had a sense of mischief as big as his stature, he kept testing me to see what he could get away with. That included walking me into a hedge and stopping to grab some delicious leaves off said hedge while the other horses obediently kept going. Once in a while he craned his neck around and settled one eye on me and I could swear he was smirking (see picture above for an example of Archie side-eye in progress). Although I felt pretty unstable at times because it seemed as if my center of gravity was 20 feet in the air, I got used to walking and semi-steering him places. And I enjoyed that, because it gave me a chance to look at the really pretty, bucolic scenery around me. But of course we couldn’t stop there. We had to trot. I’m guessing it was necessary so we would cross the distance to Omey Island in the allotted time. Before we embarked, we were given about 30 seconds of instruction on trotting technique and I never really got the hang of it. I looked more like a whack-a-mole randomly popping out of the saddle than an elegant equestrian. So I (and my muscles) would have preferred a more leisurely pace. Archie may have, too – both because it would have given him more time to grab roadside snacks and also because I’m sure my constant flipping around hurt his back as much as my bum. My favorite part of the excursion was crossing the sand bar to Omey Island. That was really, really cool. It’s an indescribably charming place, rustic and sparsely populated. However, those images will have to live on in my memories only, because that was at the trotting stage, and at no point did I feel comfortable taking my eyes (and attention) off of mischievous Archie for long enough to unzip my phone from my pocket and take pictures. At the end of the trek, I was grateful to be back on solid ground. Although I’m stupendously sore today, I do think I’d like to try this kind of thing again in the future. It’s an interesting way to explore; I would just need to take a horseback riding lesson first, or find a trek that caters to slowpokes like me. In the meantime, I’ll probably just stick to running after miniature horses. Afterward, I caught the ferry to Inishbofin island for a few days, and en route encountered a few playful dolphins. They’re so fun to watch, and I can’t help wondering how they must feel as the leap in and out of the water. Free, I’m guessing. Graceful, maybe. Like whack-a-moles? Probably not. But that’s what makes them so magical. -- source link

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