Nov
14
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Emma Getliffe asked:
Monday
I said to Julie, “Typical no hot water.”
Julie said, “Try the cold. “
Bingo! Lovely warm water very much needed after today’s adventure. We have never ridden anywhere where there is twenty miles of open country behind you and in front of you, and you can’t tell where you’re going to end up!
I said to our guide Willie Leagh, “Not many English horses could cope with this difficult terrain.” He said, “Not many English riders either!” We were riding across Willie’s Mountain –Shannadell.
Apart from the multitude of Irish blood ******* horse flies, some the size of cockroaches, with yellow, red or blue heads, our first days ride was one like we’ve never experienced before in fifty years of riding. Narrow tracks, between white stones, which wound their way between deep black bogs! Venture off these tracks at your peril!! You don’t need to touch the reins, as these clever “bog trotters” know their job.
Distant lakes glittered in the bright sunlight; the views covered hundreds of miles, and not a power line in sight!
“Just pull on the reins gently.”
“JUST PULL ON THE REINS GENTLY “was hollered by our guide – Jackqui – as our bouncing German companion – Ulli – disappeared on Willie’s Field Mastering horse!
Tuesday
Who needs Monty Roberts, when you’ve got Willie! With our health and safety in mind, fifteen horses were herded into a 20×20 coral, and we were told to take our bridles and find your horse in the mel?. These artful dodgers spun, ducked and reversed out of reach. Once you have hold of some mane, you must cling to it for grim death until the pony lets you tack it up! Amazingly there are no injuries as kicking and biting are not part of their defence. We are now really in the swing of this!
“Mountain and moorland” has taken on a whole new meaning today!
At this time we cannot think of words good enough to describe today’s experience; we have had the most exhilarating ride EVER! Our group of fellow travellers, including two Germans, four Italians, three Americans, with two Irish guides, have galloped on long silver white sands, swum in the sea on horseback and waded across three foot deep sea to Finish Island. Here we jumped stone walls, rode past the ruins of a village, tackled real Irish Banks and saw beautiful rare wild orchids.
The air is so clear and clean, the sea so calm and inviting, the coastline so vast and rugged, the people so welcoming and the food most yummy!
The days are so long & packed with so much adventure!
And our fellow holiday group are such great fun!
Wednesday
At breakfast the anticipation & excitement was tangible. Sharing our experiences have truly gelled the group. This morning we enjoyed an unforgettable day riding on Mweenish beach, during which Nicola found her riding feet! Anita, our beautiful Italian, leaned across to me & whispered, “Cilia don’t tell Willie, but this is better than ***!” I said “I’ve already told him yesterday!”
After lunch we returned to the mountains above the village of Kilkerrin, with spectacular views of this stunning coastline. We rode over mountain land, past turf stacks and thru areas of deep black bog, passing an abandoned quarry and along the coastline to Derrymish.
Two of our companions were Freya aged 11 and Indi aged 12. They rode everyday for six hours, covering twenty five miles a day and only complained when they wanted more speed. They played and laughed and sung and contributed to the whole wonderful ambiance of each day.
We trotted non-stop for four miles to our evening destination, leaving some riders with sores in unmentionable places!
Thursday
This morning we left Derrirush, past Screebe lodge to Letter Moir, where we ate lunch in an original Irish hillside farmstead. As we left for the mountain, there was the usual busy chatter going on, but as we encountered more and more arduous terrain, the seriousness of our journey dawned and there was a stony silence as everyone concentrated.
“This afternoon we are tackling a particularly difficult mountain,” Willie then tells us. The stark contrast between large sharp white stones and deep black bog was traitorous beyond belief. But, we had to salute our amazingly strong steeds, for they always found a spare leg!
We rode higher than anywhere we had been before, and enjoyed uninterrupted views of forests, lakes and hundreds of miles of coastline. Finally, on reaching a gravel track way up on a mountain top, we paused to congratulate ourselves on a remarkable achievement with Three Cheers!
At the end of this most difficult ride we waded across a river, unsaddled our horses on an Island to stay the night; stored the tack under a galvanized sheet in a ruined cottage, and negotiated uneven stepping stones back across the river to be taken to the Peacock Hotel at Maam Cross for the night.
Julie was horrified this evening; she thought Cilla had forgotten to flush the toilet! “Never mind,” she told herself. Ironically, Cilla had thought the same of Julie! Then they discovered the colour of the water here is Peat!
Friday
After the stepping stones, we caught our horses, tacked up ready to ride back over the river: down a lane a while to a Forrest track, where Willie caught us up. Whilst eating a mars bar, Nicola allowed her horse to negotiate a cattle grid oblivious to the danger!
“Have a neck strap, Ullie” “What is this?” “It’s a strap” “Where do you put it?” “On the horse’s neck!” Willie led us along winding tracks and we cantered for several miles before reaching the top of a hill, with the whole scene suddenly unveiling in front of us of the most beautiful Loch Corrib.
At lunch time we gathered in a beautiful Forrest clearing where Julie and Anita enjoyed their regular midday fix of “Moonshine.” This was Willie’s special cocktail, made of home brewed barley; so strong it had to be diluted with hot water & sugar!
The last leg of the trek was embellished by a narrow path punctuated with ten foot high razor like gorse and holly bushes, with briars that struck you like rattle snakes! All the time being pursued by ever ravenous monster horse flies.
Friday evening, after a wonderful supper at the B&B at Oughterard, Chrissie & Nicola announced the:
“Awards for the Week!”
The most considerate rider: Roberto!
The best dressed whilst riding: Antonio!
The most physically improved: Rebekah!
The Quietest rider: Keely!
The most improved rider: Ullie!
“It’s no good in the tube” (Fly bite cream): Cilla!
Most likely to be texting her new man!: Julie!
Most likely to be found on the pampas: Suzanna!
Most likely to be doing anything but concentrating on their riding: = 1st
Freya & Indi!
The Social Queen: Anita!
The Tumblers: = 1st Chrissie & Nicola!
1st Lady: Jacqui!
Willie for PRESIDENT!
Later that evening, much to the amazement of the packed locals at Finnegan’s bar in Oughterard, we pushed back the tables and chairs and danced the night away.
DENIS
Monday
I said to Julie, “Typical no hot water.”
Julie said, “Try the cold. “
Bingo! Lovely warm water very much needed after today’s adventure. We have never ridden anywhere where there is twenty miles of open country behind you and in front of you, and you can’t tell where you’re going to end up!
I said to our guide Willie Leagh, “Not many English horses could cope with this difficult terrain.” He said, “Not many English riders either!” We were riding across Willie’s Mountain –Shannadell.
Apart from the multitude of Irish blood ******* horse flies, some the size of cockroaches, with yellow, red or blue heads, our first days ride was one like we’ve never experienced before in fifty years of riding. Narrow tracks, between white stones, which wound their way between deep black bogs! Venture off these tracks at your peril!! You don’t need to touch the reins, as these clever “bog trotters” know their job.
Distant lakes glittered in the bright sunlight; the views covered hundreds of miles, and not a power line in sight!
“Just pull on the reins gently.”
“JUST PULL ON THE REINS GENTLY “was hollered by our guide – Jackqui – as our bouncing German companion – Ulli – disappeared on Willie’s Field Mastering horse!
Tuesday
Who needs Monty Roberts, when you’ve got Willie! With our health and safety in mind, fifteen horses were herded into a 20×20 coral, and we were told to take our bridles and find your horse in the mel?. These artful dodgers spun, ducked and reversed out of reach. Once you have hold of some mane, you must cling to it for grim death until the pony lets you tack it up! Amazingly there are no injuries as kicking and biting are not part of their defence. We are now really in the swing of this!
“Mountain and moorland” has taken on a whole new meaning today!
At this time we cannot think of words good enough to describe today’s experience; we have had the most exhilarating ride EVER! Our group of fellow travellers, including two Germans, four Italians, three Americans, with two Irish guides, have galloped on long silver white sands, swum in the sea on horseback and waded across three foot deep sea to Finish Island. Here we jumped stone walls, rode past the ruins of a village, tackled real Irish Banks and saw beautiful rare wild orchids.
The air is so clear and clean, the sea so calm and inviting, the coastline so vast and rugged, the people so welcoming and the food most yummy!
The days are so long & packed with so much adventure!
And our fellow holiday group are such great fun!
Wednesday
At breakfast the anticipation & excitement was tangible. Sharing our experiences have truly gelled the group. This morning we enjoyed an unforgettable day riding on Mweenish beach, during which Nicola found her riding feet! Anita, our beautiful Italian, leaned across to me & whispered, “Cilia don’t tell Willie, but this is better than ***!” I said “I’ve already told him yesterday!”
After lunch we returned to the mountains above the village of Kilkerrin, with spectacular views of this stunning coastline. We rode over mountain land, past turf stacks and thru areas of deep black bog, passing an abandoned quarry and along the coastline to Derrymish.
Two of our companions were Freya aged 11 and Indi aged 12. They rode everyday for six hours, covering twenty five miles a day and only complained when they wanted more speed. They played and laughed and sung and contributed to the whole wonderful ambiance of each day.
We trotted non-stop for four miles to our evening destination, leaving some riders with sores in unmentionable places!
Thursday
This morning we left Derrirush, past Screebe lodge to Letter Moir, where we ate lunch in an original Irish hillside farmstead. As we left for the mountain, there was the usual busy chatter going on, but as we encountered more and more arduous terrain, the seriousness of our journey dawned and there was a stony silence as everyone concentrated.
“This afternoon we are tackling a particularly difficult mountain,” Willie then tells us. The stark contrast between large sharp white stones and deep black bog was traitorous beyond belief. But, we had to salute our amazingly strong steeds, for they always found a spare leg!
We rode higher than anywhere we had been before, and enjoyed uninterrupted views of forests, lakes and hundreds of miles of coastline. Finally, on reaching a gravel track way up on a mountain top, we paused to congratulate ourselves on a remarkable achievement with Three Cheers!
At the end of this most difficult ride we waded across a river, unsaddled our horses on an Island to stay the night; stored the tack under a galvanized sheet in a ruined cottage, and negotiated uneven stepping stones back across the river to be taken to the Peacock Hotel at Maam Cross for the night.
Julie was horrified this evening; she thought Cilla had forgotten to flush the toilet! “Never mind,” she told herself. Ironically, Cilla had thought the same of Julie! Then they discovered the colour of the water here is Peat!
Friday
After the stepping stones, we caught our horses, tacked up ready to ride back over the river: down a lane a while to a Forrest track, where Willie caught us up. Whilst eating a mars bar, Nicola allowed her horse to negotiate a cattle grid oblivious to the danger!
“Have a neck strap, Ullie” “What is this?” “It’s a strap” “Where do you put it?” “On the horse’s neck!” Willie led us along winding tracks and we cantered for several miles before reaching the top of a hill, with the whole scene suddenly unveiling in front of us of the most beautiful Loch Corrib.
At lunch time we gathered in a beautiful Forrest clearing where Julie and Anita enjoyed their regular midday fix of “Moonshine.” This was Willie’s special cocktail, made of home brewed barley; so strong it had to be diluted with hot water & sugar!
The last leg of the trek was embellished by a narrow path punctuated with ten foot high razor like gorse and holly bushes, with briars that struck you like rattle snakes! All the time being pursued by ever ravenous monster horse flies.
Friday evening, after a wonderful supper at the B&B at Oughterard, Chrissie & Nicola announced the:
“Awards for the Week!”
The most considerate rider: Roberto!
The best dressed whilst riding: Antonio!
The most physically improved: Rebekah!
The Quietest rider: Keely!
The most improved rider: Ullie!
“It’s no good in the tube” (Fly bite cream): Cilla!
Most likely to be texting her new man!: Julie!
Most likely to be found on the pampas: Suzanna!
Most likely to be doing anything but concentrating on their riding: = 1st
Freya & Indi!
The Social Queen: Anita!
The Tumblers: = 1st Chrissie & Nicola!
1st Lady: Jacqui!
Willie for PRESIDENT!
Later that evening, much to the amazement of the packed locals at Finnegan’s bar in Oughterard, we pushed back the tables and chairs and danced the night away.
DENIS
Nov
10
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Ryan Burden asked:
Planning your Caribbean honeymoon shouldn’t be as complex as planning your wedding… Right! But with so many enticing options, where do you start? Well, start here of course and let me help you discover the best of the best honeymoon destinations.
Certainly you’re looking for a romantic adventure where you’ll experience many “first time” events together and every couple wants something a little different. I had a fabulous Caribbean honeymoon and have taken some great trips in my lifetime. Check out these top picks and what makes them special. One of them is perfect for that memorable trip you’ve been dreaming of!
Barbados
This island is absolutely gorgeous and you will definitely leave feeling spoiled. Stay at the secluded 110-year-old Crane Hotel for nostalgic romance or at the Peach & Quiet for a budget honeymoon. It’s the adventurous couples dream with clear blue waters for scuba divers, windsurfers, and sightseeing from the air in a helicopter or underwater in a mini-sub. You’ll find decent beaches here, but not the best of the bunch.
Turks & Caicos
If you like small secluded luxury hotels with world-class spas and great restaurants, then you’ll love it here on any of the eight inhabited islands. The uncrowded beaches are absolutely fabulous. You may even end up sunbathing next to a movie star as many vacation in the Turks & Caicos. Go horseback riding, sail to one of the many deserted islands and play “Lost” for the day, see flocks of flamingos or thousands of iguanas on Little Water Cay. The scuba diving and snorkeling are phenomenal as is the deep-sea fishing and bone fishing. Kite-boarding, windsurfing and other water sports are also popular. A definite favorite for a perfect beach honeymoon vacation!
St. Lucia
This island is straight out of a fairytale with lush tropical scenery and twin mountain peaks covered in rain forest serenity. The locals are very friendly and seeing the St. Lucia Soufriere volcano from the inside will leave you in awe. Taking a day to tour the island on horseback is one of the major reasons this is in the top ten places to take a Caribbean honeymoon. Also, many hotels really cater to honeymooners with all-inclusive packages. Go in May and you’ll catch the Jazz Festival, which is way fun!
Dominican Republic
A great choice for a budget honeymoon that still had beautiful beaches and lots to offer. Taking a catamaran ride to the enchanting Saona Island is just one of the ways to enjoy this romantic getaway. Add a visit to the 600-acre Ecological Park enjoying a dozen blue lagoons is nothing short then a romantic getaway in heaven.
Martinique
A great romantic get-a-way, yet for some reason it’s still underrated compared to the rest here. Inhale the French culture along with the tantalizing scents of the beautiful flowers that consume the entire island. Take a canopy tour and go hiking in the rain forest canyons before getting a taste of superb Creole cuisine, going shopping and sampling the fairly lively nightlife.
Anguilla
When people choose a Caribbean honeymoon this island is over-looked more times than not. I have no idea why because it’s built for couples to enjoy. You won’t find much commercialization here, the nightlife is pretty low-key and water sports are not a big draw. But you’ll have dozens of fantastic beaches to explore and the fine dining is possibly the best in all the Caribbean.
British Virgin Islands (BVI)
You have several islands to choose from with many hotel options for a secluded romantic retreat. Ride a yacht to the famous Baths of Virgin Gorda or find a hidden beach for you and your loved to enjoy all alone. The beach bars on Jost Van **** are a fun hangout popular with sailors.
US Virgin Islands (USVI)
All beautiful areas here, the fact that they’re all considered part of the United States makes things more convenient. St. John has the best beaches and diving while St. Thomas is known for excellent dining and shopping. Of course, St. Croix is cheaper and also has casinos, so you pick or hop around. The variety of USVI makes it one of the best honeymoon destinations.
Jamaica
I absolutely love Ocho Rios. The Dunn’s River Falls has got to be the coolest adventure climb on any island. Climb the waterfall and jump back down into the water… amazing! Horseback riding on the beach, a little reggae music and rum at sunset and you’ve got yourself a nice romantic getaway plus it’s great for a budget honeymoon.
Cayman Islands
Saving this for last simply because if you want to take a romantic Caribbean honeymoon and still feel like your back home this is the closest thing you’ll come across. With many American themes you won’t feel too far away, but taking in some of the best snorkeling and scuba diving in the Caribbean will be breathtaking. Also, if you are into shopping and eating well, then the Caymans have got to be a top pick for you Caribbean honeymoon.
Now that you’ve got some good ideas, you just have to decide which is the best honeymoon destination for you. Hopefully this list has got you excited and also helped narrow down your choices too. Good luck and have fun. Whichever one you decide on, I hope you two have a wonderful wedding and a romantic honeymoon!
JERALD
Planning your Caribbean honeymoon shouldn’t be as complex as planning your wedding… Right! But with so many enticing options, where do you start? Well, start here of course and let me help you discover the best of the best honeymoon destinations.
Certainly you’re looking for a romantic adventure where you’ll experience many “first time” events together and every couple wants something a little different. I had a fabulous Caribbean honeymoon and have taken some great trips in my lifetime. Check out these top picks and what makes them special. One of them is perfect for that memorable trip you’ve been dreaming of!
Barbados
This island is absolutely gorgeous and you will definitely leave feeling spoiled. Stay at the secluded 110-year-old Crane Hotel for nostalgic romance or at the Peach & Quiet for a budget honeymoon. It’s the adventurous couples dream with clear blue waters for scuba divers, windsurfers, and sightseeing from the air in a helicopter or underwater in a mini-sub. You’ll find decent beaches here, but not the best of the bunch.
Turks & Caicos
If you like small secluded luxury hotels with world-class spas and great restaurants, then you’ll love it here on any of the eight inhabited islands. The uncrowded beaches are absolutely fabulous. You may even end up sunbathing next to a movie star as many vacation in the Turks & Caicos. Go horseback riding, sail to one of the many deserted islands and play “Lost” for the day, see flocks of flamingos or thousands of iguanas on Little Water Cay. The scuba diving and snorkeling are phenomenal as is the deep-sea fishing and bone fishing. Kite-boarding, windsurfing and other water sports are also popular. A definite favorite for a perfect beach honeymoon vacation!
St. Lucia
This island is straight out of a fairytale with lush tropical scenery and twin mountain peaks covered in rain forest serenity. The locals are very friendly and seeing the St. Lucia Soufriere volcano from the inside will leave you in awe. Taking a day to tour the island on horseback is one of the major reasons this is in the top ten places to take a Caribbean honeymoon. Also, many hotels really cater to honeymooners with all-inclusive packages. Go in May and you’ll catch the Jazz Festival, which is way fun!
Dominican Republic
A great choice for a budget honeymoon that still had beautiful beaches and lots to offer. Taking a catamaran ride to the enchanting Saona Island is just one of the ways to enjoy this romantic getaway. Add a visit to the 600-acre Ecological Park enjoying a dozen blue lagoons is nothing short then a romantic getaway in heaven.
Martinique
A great romantic get-a-way, yet for some reason it’s still underrated compared to the rest here. Inhale the French culture along with the tantalizing scents of the beautiful flowers that consume the entire island. Take a canopy tour and go hiking in the rain forest canyons before getting a taste of superb Creole cuisine, going shopping and sampling the fairly lively nightlife.
Anguilla
When people choose a Caribbean honeymoon this island is over-looked more times than not. I have no idea why because it’s built for couples to enjoy. You won’t find much commercialization here, the nightlife is pretty low-key and water sports are not a big draw. But you’ll have dozens of fantastic beaches to explore and the fine dining is possibly the best in all the Caribbean.
British Virgin Islands (BVI)
You have several islands to choose from with many hotel options for a secluded romantic retreat. Ride a yacht to the famous Baths of Virgin Gorda or find a hidden beach for you and your loved to enjoy all alone. The beach bars on Jost Van **** are a fun hangout popular with sailors.
US Virgin Islands (USVI)
All beautiful areas here, the fact that they’re all considered part of the United States makes things more convenient. St. John has the best beaches and diving while St. Thomas is known for excellent dining and shopping. Of course, St. Croix is cheaper and also has casinos, so you pick or hop around. The variety of USVI makes it one of the best honeymoon destinations.
Jamaica
I absolutely love Ocho Rios. The Dunn’s River Falls has got to be the coolest adventure climb on any island. Climb the waterfall and jump back down into the water… amazing! Horseback riding on the beach, a little reggae music and rum at sunset and you’ve got yourself a nice romantic getaway plus it’s great for a budget honeymoon.
Cayman Islands
Saving this for last simply because if you want to take a romantic Caribbean honeymoon and still feel like your back home this is the closest thing you’ll come across. With many American themes you won’t feel too far away, but taking in some of the best snorkeling and scuba diving in the Caribbean will be breathtaking. Also, if you are into shopping and eating well, then the Caymans have got to be a top pick for you Caribbean honeymoon.
Now that you’ve got some good ideas, you just have to decide which is the best honeymoon destination for you. Hopefully this list has got you excited and also helped narrow down your choices too. Good luck and have fun. Whichever one you decide on, I hope you two have a wonderful wedding and a romantic honeymoon!
JERALD
Mar
18
Horse Riding to Machu Picchu
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Sarah Caplan asked:
Horse Riding Holiday to Machu Picchu
I could have found lots of reasons why I shouldn’t take up the offer to ride to Machu Picchu in Peru. The obvious one being the distance from home, but even as I composed my ‘how kind of you to offer me such a wonderful opportunity but unfortunately I will sadly have to decline’ email, a niggling doubt ate at the back of my mind. Yes, it was miles away, and I would be travelling alone but I had always wanted to visit Machu Picchu and the chance to visit the heart of The Inca Empire on horseback, could anyone have written me a better script? Just as the Spanish conquistadors must have felt all those years ago the lure of the Inca’s grew stronger, so, one rainy Monday night in England with the newspapers spilling over with news of worldwide economic disaster I opened my laptop and booked my ticket to a journey of a lifetime.
Six days later I flew Manchester-Amsterdam-Lima aboard a KLM jet and later that same night I arrived in Lima. A flower market dedicated to the cultivation of orchids was in full swing in the main square and I mingled with the locals as they vied to negotiate for sacks of rich soil, fertilisers and orchid plants. Maybe it was the effects of a 12 hour flight or maybe it was the heady aroma of orchids that made me feel quite giddy with excitement in this new and exotic city.
I was up early the next morning, not surprisingly due to the 6 hour time difference, and I was keen to explore the city a little more before my afternoon flight to Cusco (capital city of The Inca Empire). At this time of the morning the shops were still closed so I strolled down to the park which overlooks the Ocean and watched the early morning surfers attempting to dominate the unforgiving Pacific waves. A beautiful sculpture of lovers entwined is a popular venue for proposals in the city and the many plaques that surround it bear testimony to the happiness it has so obviously prompted. By lunchtime I found myself hurrying back to the hotel to pack up my belongings and to wave good bye to this colourful city. Later that day I was landing in Cusco and my long journey from England was looking more and more worth while! I was greeted by my hosts with the warmth and generosity of character that had become for me, to typify this wonderful country. As my bags were stowed securely in the minibus we exchanged greetings and headed off towards our evening destination.
The day starts early in Peru but this caused me no problem as my body was still firmly resisting the change to its internal clock. Today we were journeying to the ranch were the horses live close to the small town of Moyapata. After visiting the cosmopolitan city of Lima and then the cultural capital of Cusco, Moyapata represented for me what I had imagined the ‘real’ Peru to be. Simple houses, narrow streets and a crowded village square filled with inquisitive locals queuing to buy their breakfast from entrepreneurial villagers who arrived with large canteens full of hot food that they served at the roadside. Another forward thinking local had converted a room in his house into an internet café and as I sent my first emails home five young boys crowded around the computer next to mine playing enthusiastically on ‘Grand Theft Auto’…..is there no escape from internet games!
The stables were located along a bumpy track just outside of the town and here I met Ricardo the stable manager and his trusty assistant Arturo. They worked quickly and skilfully tacking up six horses in the time that it takes me to tack up one in England. The horses were mainly quarter horses all in good shape with glistening coats and a twinkle in their eye. We were skilfully allocated our steed for the next five days and I took some time to acquaint myself with Fulmini who was actually the only thoroughbred and whose mother had been successful on the race track in Lima before changing occupation to brood mare. Bearing this in mind and furnished with the further information that his name comes from the word fulminar which is roughly translated as ‘explosion from a gun’ I had the feeling that keeping up with the others was not going to be a problem for me!
The owner of the horses and of the lodges where we would be staying during our trip, was accompanying us throughout the ride and with his signal to proceed we set out on what was to be the most memorable journey I have ever made. Enrique, the owner, had had a vision for this expedition, as a keen skier he had often looked at the mountain lodges around the world and thought…..and why not in Peru? Today we rode north west towards the first mountain lodge and for the first time I began to look on the mountainous terrain in the same way as the Inca people must have gazed upon it 500 years ago. The tracks that we rode along were stony and rough but the horses made little of the rocks and boulders placing their hooves with exacting precision in just the right spot.
As we cantered along the mountain roadways, Enrique pointed out the old Inca irrigation channels which could clearly be seen cut into the mountain side on the opposite side of the valley. As the altitude increased my energy levels decreased, but the altitude had no such effect on Fulmini and as I became less and less effective in the saddle he gently took control, I could almost feel him raising an eyebrow and saying ‘another tourist!’ Just as I began to feel the first real effects of altitude sickness seeping into my body, thankfully the lodge came into view. Enrique’s vision was a reality, we had arrived at the Peruvian equivalent of an upmarket Colorado skiing lodge. Only the local staff, who were gathered outside to meet us, gave away our true destination. Like Fulmini, they too understood the needs of ‘rooky tourists’ and they greeted us with mugs of steaming ‘Mate de Coca’ a special tea prepared by the locals from coca leaves that is renowned for warding off the effects of high altitude. Ricardo and Arturo immediately slipped back into their well rehearsed professionalism and the reins of the horses were whisked away from the riders as we were ushered into our Inca Palace. The Lodge had been constructed with all the bespoke elegance that this period of history evokes, golden Inca masks adorned the walls and it was easy to let yourself become completely engulfed in this luxurious setting.
The following morning we rode out in the surrounding area of Soraypampa. Our aim was to visit the Humantay Lake which is fed by a glacier far above on the slopes of Humantay mountain. My horse appeared as fresh and as keen to set out as the day before and as we scrabbled up river beds climbing ever higher up the mountain I wondered what my horse at home in England would make of this adventure. The local’s scratch a meager living from these unforgiving slopes, the animals they own graze on the sparse vegetation, scrabbling up high on impossible slopes to reach every last piece of edible greenery. Their life is hard in the winter months but I couldn’t help but think that the freedom of their life here in the mountains was preferable to the regimented life of our farm animals back home. As we rode ever higher mules, donkeys, ponies and cows viewed us with languid eyes before continuing on their daily task of foraging.
The Inca’s considered glacial lakes to be the ‘eyes’ of the mountain and it was easy to understand why as I stood gazing upon the impossibly turquoise lake which appeared to be blinking at me from its mountain hideaway. To show respect to the mountain Gods the Inca’s would build apachetas (stone piles) and today walkers carry on with this tradition asking for safe passage as they trek high up in The Andes.
This evening we stayed in the same lodge to give us chance to acclimatize to the altitude, I was still drinking mate de coca tea as if it was going out of fashion and I hoped that there was no shortage of coca leaves in this region.
The following day we headed off for the second lodge in our quest to reach the enchanted city of Machu Picchu. High in the mountains the air was cold, the clouds wrapped themselves like white wool blankets across the mountain tops and today we were warned the temperatures would drop. We were riding across a mountain pass between two of the most sacred Inca Mountains, we could expect temperatures of minus five degrees including the wind chill factor. Our benevolent host, having taken pity on his poorly clad guests had given me a wonderful hand woven poncho the night before. The locals pride themselves on the quality of their textiles, all the colours are made from local plant extracts and I felt myself gradually slipping into the rhythm of mountain life as I pulled the poncho over my head.
The horses gradually climbed up along the narrow mountain tracks stepping effortlessly over fallen rocks and negotiating gaps in between boulders that would leave the average British goat quaking in its shoes. I learnt to trust my valiant thoroughbred, he knew more about these mountain pathways than me, so I accepted that my job was to sit as quietly and lightly as I could in his armchair saddle. As the rain began to fall, we all pulled on our waterproof capes and as I turned to take a photograph of the group it struck me that we could easily be taken for a set from The Lord of the Rings, when Frodo travels high into the mountains of Mordor to rid himself of the treacherous ring.
As we reached the highest point of the pass we paused to make an offering to the mountain god and as we cast our gift of coca leaves into the wind we each made our own personal wish. The guide explained that the stronger your belief then the more likely it was that your wish would be heard. I concentrated as hard as I could wishing that the peace of the mountains may be with me and with my loved ones forever. The horses seemed oblivious to the cold and as we headed down towards the second lodge they strode onwards with unfaltering steps. The lodge had sent the chef into the mountains to meet us, he had set up camp about 2 km from the lodge and a hot meal was awaiting us inside a cosy tent. As we ate a traditional Peruvian beef stew I giggled a bit as the rain beat down on the canvas it was a bit like a traditional British summer camping weekend in Wales.
The second lodge was my favourite, its theme being the religion and spiritualism of this region and as every day passed in my new mountain home I felt closer and closer to the tremendous force of nature that this environment exudes from every rock and plant.
The following day we were heading down the mountain again and as if by magic the harsh rocky scenery of the mountain pass changed into the cloud forest jungle. The temperatures soared, I was shedding layers of clothing with every step, orchids appeared on both sides of the track. I felt as if I had just changed continents. The owner of the lodges and horses, Enrique, is passionate about this area, through a scheme he has developed which is called Yanapana he plans to eradicate poverty in this area in the next 10 years. He employs only local people in the lodges, including the managers who are trained at his first lodge on the coast for up to three months. He encourages the local farmers to grow fresh produce for the lodges’ kitchens and he has a rota of employment for the local mule drivers. Twice a year a group of doctors and dentists from Lima and Cusco travel out to the remotest mountain villages to hold clinics with the families, some of which will never have seen a medic before.
Today we were visiting another of his projects, a small local school high in the mountains above the lodge where we would be staying that night. As the horses valiantly struggled to scramble up narrow rocky pathways, Enrique explained that many of the children walked this route everyday from the local villages, taking 2 hours each day to reach school and then a further two hours to return home in the afternoon. I thought about the X Box generation back home in Britain who can barely walk 5 minutes to the bus stop and wondered about how we could reach a ‘happy medium’. Eventually, just as I thought we would never reach the school I heard children’s voices drifting through the jungle high above my head. Around the next bend two smiling teachers appeared with a small group of pupils whom they were accompanying down to the river, we stopped to exchange news.
As we continued towards the school more excited children ran to greet us, they were so proud of their school that they wanted to accompany us and one or two of them hitched a ride on the back of our saddles. The school itself was a simple building but as I peered in the windows I could see the walls adorned with pupil’s work and knew that Enrique’s’ work had not been in vain.
That evening we stayed in a wonderful lodge perched high above the confluence of three rivers. The view was truly breath taking I almost had to pinch myself to believe that I could be surrounded by such dramatic beauty. That evening we dined on Pachamancha, a traditional dish cooked under the ground on hot stones.
The following day, I knew that my heart would be heavy, as this was our last day of riding. Our trail would end as the start on The Inca Trail upon which horses are banned. I was determined to make the most of my last few hours with Fulmini, I had developed such a strong bond with this valiant little thoroughbred and I sincerely hoped that he felt the same about me. As I climbed onto his back I could feel the warmth of his body through the saddle, it felt like home. We continued heading down the mountain following the river valley, as some points we dismounted and led our horses as the track narrowed. Eventually we reaches the small town of La Playa, as usual the whole village came out to greet us and I felt like a celebrity as I proudly rode along the narrow streets. As we left the town the road sloped up gently and the horses sprang forward into canter glad to have left the mountainous terrain and keen to stretch their legs! We raced along the broad pathways, our spirits soaring and out hearts racing in time to our horses’ hooves. As the path swooped to the right it was time to slow, we had reached the Inca Trail and now we finally had to bid farewell to our noble companions.
The following day we exchanged four legs for two as we hiked 900 metres uphill through the cloud forest to steal our first view across the valley of Machupicchu. The splendour of this scenery is something that will stay with me my whole life, words just cannot describe the unbelievable majesty of these mountains. After lunch we began our descent, we dropped over 1000 metres down to the river and then headed along the river bank towards a small train station where we would catch the train to Aguas Calientes, the town at the foot of Machupicchu.
The next day was my birthday and it is certainly one that I will remember forever. What better gift than a visit to one of the world’s most splendid architectural and cultural sites. As I walked amongst the Incan Temples the tremendous energy of this remarkable site seeped into my bones and I felt my spirits soar as the condors soared in the skies above me.
As I flew home towards England the following evening I tried to put some order to my memories of the past 10 days. What would I hold closest to my heart? The breath taking mountain scenery, the beautiful orchid flowers of the cloud forest, the cascading water of the tremendous rivers or the spiritual majesty of Machupicchu……no, I’m afraid I have to stay true to my heart, for me it was the flaming chestnut coat and the gentle patient eyes of my handsome sure footed Fulmini who had nobly carried me on this journey of a lifetime.
OMAR
Horse Riding Holiday to Machu Picchu
I could have found lots of reasons why I shouldn’t take up the offer to ride to Machu Picchu in Peru. The obvious one being the distance from home, but even as I composed my ‘how kind of you to offer me such a wonderful opportunity but unfortunately I will sadly have to decline’ email, a niggling doubt ate at the back of my mind. Yes, it was miles away, and I would be travelling alone but I had always wanted to visit Machu Picchu and the chance to visit the heart of The Inca Empire on horseback, could anyone have written me a better script? Just as the Spanish conquistadors must have felt all those years ago the lure of the Inca’s grew stronger, so, one rainy Monday night in England with the newspapers spilling over with news of worldwide economic disaster I opened my laptop and booked my ticket to a journey of a lifetime.
Six days later I flew Manchester-Amsterdam-Lima aboard a KLM jet and later that same night I arrived in Lima. A flower market dedicated to the cultivation of orchids was in full swing in the main square and I mingled with the locals as they vied to negotiate for sacks of rich soil, fertilisers and orchid plants. Maybe it was the effects of a 12 hour flight or maybe it was the heady aroma of orchids that made me feel quite giddy with excitement in this new and exotic city.
I was up early the next morning, not surprisingly due to the 6 hour time difference, and I was keen to explore the city a little more before my afternoon flight to Cusco (capital city of The Inca Empire). At this time of the morning the shops were still closed so I strolled down to the park which overlooks the Ocean and watched the early morning surfers attempting to dominate the unforgiving Pacific waves. A beautiful sculpture of lovers entwined is a popular venue for proposals in the city and the many plaques that surround it bear testimony to the happiness it has so obviously prompted. By lunchtime I found myself hurrying back to the hotel to pack up my belongings and to wave good bye to this colourful city. Later that day I was landing in Cusco and my long journey from England was looking more and more worth while! I was greeted by my hosts with the warmth and generosity of character that had become for me, to typify this wonderful country. As my bags were stowed securely in the minibus we exchanged greetings and headed off towards our evening destination.
The day starts early in Peru but this caused me no problem as my body was still firmly resisting the change to its internal clock. Today we were journeying to the ranch were the horses live close to the small town of Moyapata. After visiting the cosmopolitan city of Lima and then the cultural capital of Cusco, Moyapata represented for me what I had imagined the ‘real’ Peru to be. Simple houses, narrow streets and a crowded village square filled with inquisitive locals queuing to buy their breakfast from entrepreneurial villagers who arrived with large canteens full of hot food that they served at the roadside. Another forward thinking local had converted a room in his house into an internet café and as I sent my first emails home five young boys crowded around the computer next to mine playing enthusiastically on ‘Grand Theft Auto’…..is there no escape from internet games!
The stables were located along a bumpy track just outside of the town and here I met Ricardo the stable manager and his trusty assistant Arturo. They worked quickly and skilfully tacking up six horses in the time that it takes me to tack up one in England. The horses were mainly quarter horses all in good shape with glistening coats and a twinkle in their eye. We were skilfully allocated our steed for the next five days and I took some time to acquaint myself with Fulmini who was actually the only thoroughbred and whose mother had been successful on the race track in Lima before changing occupation to brood mare. Bearing this in mind and furnished with the further information that his name comes from the word fulminar which is roughly translated as ‘explosion from a gun’ I had the feeling that keeping up with the others was not going to be a problem for me!
The owner of the horses and of the lodges where we would be staying during our trip, was accompanying us throughout the ride and with his signal to proceed we set out on what was to be the most memorable journey I have ever made. Enrique, the owner, had had a vision for this expedition, as a keen skier he had often looked at the mountain lodges around the world and thought…..and why not in Peru? Today we rode north west towards the first mountain lodge and for the first time I began to look on the mountainous terrain in the same way as the Inca people must have gazed upon it 500 years ago. The tracks that we rode along were stony and rough but the horses made little of the rocks and boulders placing their hooves with exacting precision in just the right spot.
As we cantered along the mountain roadways, Enrique pointed out the old Inca irrigation channels which could clearly be seen cut into the mountain side on the opposite side of the valley. As the altitude increased my energy levels decreased, but the altitude had no such effect on Fulmini and as I became less and less effective in the saddle he gently took control, I could almost feel him raising an eyebrow and saying ‘another tourist!’ Just as I began to feel the first real effects of altitude sickness seeping into my body, thankfully the lodge came into view. Enrique’s vision was a reality, we had arrived at the Peruvian equivalent of an upmarket Colorado skiing lodge. Only the local staff, who were gathered outside to meet us, gave away our true destination. Like Fulmini, they too understood the needs of ‘rooky tourists’ and they greeted us with mugs of steaming ‘Mate de Coca’ a special tea prepared by the locals from coca leaves that is renowned for warding off the effects of high altitude. Ricardo and Arturo immediately slipped back into their well rehearsed professionalism and the reins of the horses were whisked away from the riders as we were ushered into our Inca Palace. The Lodge had been constructed with all the bespoke elegance that this period of history evokes, golden Inca masks adorned the walls and it was easy to let yourself become completely engulfed in this luxurious setting.
The following morning we rode out in the surrounding area of Soraypampa. Our aim was to visit the Humantay Lake which is fed by a glacier far above on the slopes of Humantay mountain. My horse appeared as fresh and as keen to set out as the day before and as we scrabbled up river beds climbing ever higher up the mountain I wondered what my horse at home in England would make of this adventure. The local’s scratch a meager living from these unforgiving slopes, the animals they own graze on the sparse vegetation, scrabbling up high on impossible slopes to reach every last piece of edible greenery. Their life is hard in the winter months but I couldn’t help but think that the freedom of their life here in the mountains was preferable to the regimented life of our farm animals back home. As we rode ever higher mules, donkeys, ponies and cows viewed us with languid eyes before continuing on their daily task of foraging.
The Inca’s considered glacial lakes to be the ‘eyes’ of the mountain and it was easy to understand why as I stood gazing upon the impossibly turquoise lake which appeared to be blinking at me from its mountain hideaway. To show respect to the mountain Gods the Inca’s would build apachetas (stone piles) and today walkers carry on with this tradition asking for safe passage as they trek high up in The Andes.
This evening we stayed in the same lodge to give us chance to acclimatize to the altitude, I was still drinking mate de coca tea as if it was going out of fashion and I hoped that there was no shortage of coca leaves in this region.
The following day we headed off for the second lodge in our quest to reach the enchanted city of Machu Picchu. High in the mountains the air was cold, the clouds wrapped themselves like white wool blankets across the mountain tops and today we were warned the temperatures would drop. We were riding across a mountain pass between two of the most sacred Inca Mountains, we could expect temperatures of minus five degrees including the wind chill factor. Our benevolent host, having taken pity on his poorly clad guests had given me a wonderful hand woven poncho the night before. The locals pride themselves on the quality of their textiles, all the colours are made from local plant extracts and I felt myself gradually slipping into the rhythm of mountain life as I pulled the poncho over my head.
The horses gradually climbed up along the narrow mountain tracks stepping effortlessly over fallen rocks and negotiating gaps in between boulders that would leave the average British goat quaking in its shoes. I learnt to trust my valiant thoroughbred, he knew more about these mountain pathways than me, so I accepted that my job was to sit as quietly and lightly as I could in his armchair saddle. As the rain began to fall, we all pulled on our waterproof capes and as I turned to take a photograph of the group it struck me that we could easily be taken for a set from The Lord of the Rings, when Frodo travels high into the mountains of Mordor to rid himself of the treacherous ring.
As we reached the highest point of the pass we paused to make an offering to the mountain god and as we cast our gift of coca leaves into the wind we each made our own personal wish. The guide explained that the stronger your belief then the more likely it was that your wish would be heard. I concentrated as hard as I could wishing that the peace of the mountains may be with me and with my loved ones forever. The horses seemed oblivious to the cold and as we headed down towards the second lodge they strode onwards with unfaltering steps. The lodge had sent the chef into the mountains to meet us, he had set up camp about 2 km from the lodge and a hot meal was awaiting us inside a cosy tent. As we ate a traditional Peruvian beef stew I giggled a bit as the rain beat down on the canvas it was a bit like a traditional British summer camping weekend in Wales.
The second lodge was my favourite, its theme being the religion and spiritualism of this region and as every day passed in my new mountain home I felt closer and closer to the tremendous force of nature that this environment exudes from every rock and plant.
The following day we were heading down the mountain again and as if by magic the harsh rocky scenery of the mountain pass changed into the cloud forest jungle. The temperatures soared, I was shedding layers of clothing with every step, orchids appeared on both sides of the track. I felt as if I had just changed continents. The owner of the lodges and horses, Enrique, is passionate about this area, through a scheme he has developed which is called Yanapana he plans to eradicate poverty in this area in the next 10 years. He employs only local people in the lodges, including the managers who are trained at his first lodge on the coast for up to three months. He encourages the local farmers to grow fresh produce for the lodges’ kitchens and he has a rota of employment for the local mule drivers. Twice a year a group of doctors and dentists from Lima and Cusco travel out to the remotest mountain villages to hold clinics with the families, some of which will never have seen a medic before.
Today we were visiting another of his projects, a small local school high in the mountains above the lodge where we would be staying that night. As the horses valiantly struggled to scramble up narrow rocky pathways, Enrique explained that many of the children walked this route everyday from the local villages, taking 2 hours each day to reach school and then a further two hours to return home in the afternoon. I thought about the X Box generation back home in Britain who can barely walk 5 minutes to the bus stop and wondered about how we could reach a ‘happy medium’. Eventually, just as I thought we would never reach the school I heard children’s voices drifting through the jungle high above my head. Around the next bend two smiling teachers appeared with a small group of pupils whom they were accompanying down to the river, we stopped to exchange news.
As we continued towards the school more excited children ran to greet us, they were so proud of their school that they wanted to accompany us and one or two of them hitched a ride on the back of our saddles. The school itself was a simple building but as I peered in the windows I could see the walls adorned with pupil’s work and knew that Enrique’s’ work had not been in vain.
That evening we stayed in a wonderful lodge perched high above the confluence of three rivers. The view was truly breath taking I almost had to pinch myself to believe that I could be surrounded by such dramatic beauty. That evening we dined on Pachamancha, a traditional dish cooked under the ground on hot stones.
The following day, I knew that my heart would be heavy, as this was our last day of riding. Our trail would end as the start on The Inca Trail upon which horses are banned. I was determined to make the most of my last few hours with Fulmini, I had developed such a strong bond with this valiant little thoroughbred and I sincerely hoped that he felt the same about me. As I climbed onto his back I could feel the warmth of his body through the saddle, it felt like home. We continued heading down the mountain following the river valley, as some points we dismounted and led our horses as the track narrowed. Eventually we reaches the small town of La Playa, as usual the whole village came out to greet us and I felt like a celebrity as I proudly rode along the narrow streets. As we left the town the road sloped up gently and the horses sprang forward into canter glad to have left the mountainous terrain and keen to stretch their legs! We raced along the broad pathways, our spirits soaring and out hearts racing in time to our horses’ hooves. As the path swooped to the right it was time to slow, we had reached the Inca Trail and now we finally had to bid farewell to our noble companions.
The following day we exchanged four legs for two as we hiked 900 metres uphill through the cloud forest to steal our first view across the valley of Machupicchu. The splendour of this scenery is something that will stay with me my whole life, words just cannot describe the unbelievable majesty of these mountains. After lunch we began our descent, we dropped over 1000 metres down to the river and then headed along the river bank towards a small train station where we would catch the train to Aguas Calientes, the town at the foot of Machupicchu.
The next day was my birthday and it is certainly one that I will remember forever. What better gift than a visit to one of the world’s most splendid architectural and cultural sites. As I walked amongst the Incan Temples the tremendous energy of this remarkable site seeped into my bones and I felt my spirits soar as the condors soared in the skies above me.
As I flew home towards England the following evening I tried to put some order to my memories of the past 10 days. What would I hold closest to my heart? The breath taking mountain scenery, the beautiful orchid flowers of the cloud forest, the cascading water of the tremendous rivers or the spiritual majesty of Machupicchu……no, I’m afraid I have to stay true to my heart, for me it was the flaming chestnut coat and the gentle patient eyes of my handsome sure footed Fulmini who had nobly carried me on this journey of a lifetime.
OMAR
Jan
24
Horseback to Nauyaca Waterfalls
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Enid Glasgow asked:
It’s an area of the world still intact to its origins; where zones of jungle and lush greenery exceed the resorts and clubs; where horns and the fervent chatter of countless conversations subside to a steady Baru River wind. In Costa Rica, popular fare of its tourism does not revolve around Spring Break or the number of bold-name celebrities the country draws in; its tourists are ecologically-conscious and visit to embrace the natural attractions.
One such vestige of our devolving planet is hidden an hour, by horseback, into Costa Rican jungle—Nauyaca Falls. Hidden in the hills between San Isidro el General and Dominical, it is the highest and most expansive of the country, with furious channels of water careening over the top lip, crashing over three levels of rock, and into a number of different pools at the base. Engulfing Nauyaca are towering walls of trees and vine and bushes and the sounds of animals native to the area.
Getting to the Falls was not as much of a commitment as I had assumed. The commute to San Jose from my room at the Paradisus Playa Conchal was an hour’s bus ride and from there, another 30 to the Nauyaca Office. It was there that I was introduced to Don Lulo, the tour’s guide, well-versed in both English and Spanish, the horses, and Costa Rica’s jungle. Lulo and his family have been guiding ecotourists like me to the Falls for over fifteen years.
The tour shared breakfast with Lulo’s family before saddling up to follow a trail that would quickly disappear into a small parting in the trees. As we ventured further, the path would dip into waist-high mud, only to mount back up to rocky hill, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the confident footing of my horse. I could tell that it knew the land as well as Don Lulo. Even when it was up to its knees in the thick mud, it would choose every step, exactly—certain.
When we arrived, we tied up our horses and surveyed the scene, the building sound of rushing water as we approached the falls was finally revealed as the thick channels of water exploding on the surface of a pool at the base of Nauyaca. When our guide, without hesitation, dived in, we all followed suit, eventually climping a rope up the falls to a ledge where the bravest of us, me included, leapt into the serene, tepid jungle air.
Somewhere between noon and one, a consensus vote sent us heading back to the tour office. It wasn’t that we had tired of the place, but all of that swimming and diving can incite the most unruly of hunger pangs. Following lunch, I thanked Don Lulo and his family for the experience and vivid memories that would follow. The falls, I had decided, would be something of tradition, and an apex of future Costa Rican vacations.
BRANDEN
It’s an area of the world still intact to its origins; where zones of jungle and lush greenery exceed the resorts and clubs; where horns and the fervent chatter of countless conversations subside to a steady Baru River wind. In Costa Rica, popular fare of its tourism does not revolve around Spring Break or the number of bold-name celebrities the country draws in; its tourists are ecologically-conscious and visit to embrace the natural attractions.
One such vestige of our devolving planet is hidden an hour, by horseback, into Costa Rican jungle—Nauyaca Falls. Hidden in the hills between San Isidro el General and Dominical, it is the highest and most expansive of the country, with furious channels of water careening over the top lip, crashing over three levels of rock, and into a number of different pools at the base. Engulfing Nauyaca are towering walls of trees and vine and bushes and the sounds of animals native to the area.
Getting to the Falls was not as much of a commitment as I had assumed. The commute to San Jose from my room at the Paradisus Playa Conchal was an hour’s bus ride and from there, another 30 to the Nauyaca Office. It was there that I was introduced to Don Lulo, the tour’s guide, well-versed in both English and Spanish, the horses, and Costa Rica’s jungle. Lulo and his family have been guiding ecotourists like me to the Falls for over fifteen years.
The tour shared breakfast with Lulo’s family before saddling up to follow a trail that would quickly disappear into a small parting in the trees. As we ventured further, the path would dip into waist-high mud, only to mount back up to rocky hill, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the confident footing of my horse. I could tell that it knew the land as well as Don Lulo. Even when it was up to its knees in the thick mud, it would choose every step, exactly—certain.
When we arrived, we tied up our horses and surveyed the scene, the building sound of rushing water as we approached the falls was finally revealed as the thick channels of water exploding on the surface of a pool at the base of Nauyaca. When our guide, without hesitation, dived in, we all followed suit, eventually climping a rope up the falls to a ledge where the bravest of us, me included, leapt into the serene, tepid jungle air.
Somewhere between noon and one, a consensus vote sent us heading back to the tour office. It wasn’t that we had tired of the place, but all of that swimming and diving can incite the most unruly of hunger pangs. Following lunch, I thanked Don Lulo and his family for the experience and vivid memories that would follow. The falls, I had decided, would be something of tradition, and an apex of future Costa Rican vacations.
BRANDEN