Day Two -- March 31

We were at the stable a little after 10 and underway by 10:30, the place was so efficient. "The horses will be a little fresh at first," Maria Elena said.

Indeed. As instructed, we kept in single file line as we departed the stable and began to walk across a grassy plain toward some snow-covered hills. Yes, snow-covered. It was cold and windy, but we were well-dressed and there was no rain. About 15 minutes in, after one trot, we walked by a field where some very excited horses were running back and forth. Next thing we know, Judy was galloping by in a rather uncontrollable fashion, Adrian was  on the ground and his horse was racing in circles around the group. The horse had apparently shied suddenly because of the other horses, bumping Judy's horse, just as Adrian was putting something in his saddlebag. 

Maria Elena and Enrique caught the horse, Adrian got back on and we headed off again. The mishap didn't slow us up: We had a couple of canters and managed to stay more or less in line. My horse was fairly fresh but I followed Maria Elena's instructions and kept pretty close contact and used a lot of leg and all was fine.

At noon we stopped for -- no, not lunch of course. This is Spain. We stopped for a snack of Spanish omelet, baguette, cheese, ham and chicken soup. 

The horses were tied to a long clothesline-ish rope and enjoyed their rest, with the occasional interruption of some local cows. They were driven away by Enrique and Oleg, his Ukrainian assistant. 

We then untied our horses, got on (did I mentioned they even carry a MOUNTING BLOCK?) and headed down what Maria Elena explained was an old merino-sheep herding road. Spain had a monopoly on merinos until the Brits butted into the act in, say, the 17th century, and sheep were driven all the way across the country, from south to north. An nearby stone ruin was a shearing shed.

We kept going up, through what looked like an olive orchard but probably wasn't, and then joined up with the San Juan de Compostelo pilgrimage trail. By this time we were in a national park, very well kept up. We had a long canter uphill, after which time the horses ceased being fresh, and then walked through a beautiful forest of tall red pines, the kind where the branches and needles are only on top. It was still that same kind of forest as we descended the other side of the mountain, going straight down but at a very controllable walk.

 We then entered  a town and, it being 3 p.m., tied the horses up and had lunch at a local restaurant. I had a white-bean stew appetizer that was absolutely delicious, and a so-so trout. Red wine, of course.

Happily, it was only 45 minutes to the end of ours days' riding, so we all managed to stay on, and then were driven from where we loaded the horses onto their truck to our hotel,  a former monastery right in Segovia. 

Sue, Joe, Nancy and I attempted to work up an appetite for dinner by walking from our hotel down the hill along the city's Roman aqueduct, then up many stairs to the old section of the city and the cathedral. 

(Note to readers: you will see a lot of photos of this indomitable trio on this blog)

Dinner, in my case an excellent salad and OK cod, was at the hotel.