Like, properly awesome.
Early start Saturday after late Fright night monster steaks in Palermo with Jon and Georgie (Katie's bro and his girlfriend).
Three hour drive, two car convoy to Luli's farm, the parilla lit the minute we arrived, like smoke signals in better days. We'd barely settled by the pool when the bell was rung for lunch, and the chorizo suasage, morcilla (black pudding, but better) and vacio (steak) started arriving.
Marvellous.
The gorgeous sunny day couldn't be wasted, so back we headed to the poolside for a snooze before the riders headed off to ride.
Not being the best in the saddle, I decided to sit this one out and stayed with my lovely wife. My one and only previous experience of being on an animal went something like: India, camel, itch, cactus, blood, gallop, itch, cactus, strop, refusal, tantrum, dismount, limp, long walk, limp, desert, rubbish....
(Incidentally, I think it is more amusing to not explain who Luli is, why we were there etc, thereby allowing you to speculate).
I woke up as the riders returned in the sunset, had a quick swim, before an evening of pasta, poker, wine and song (well, the TV tuned in to 'Best of the 80s'. Terence Trent D'Arby: remember?). Got cleaned out in the poker by a bunch of novices. Who goes all in on a high card? Come on.
Sunday morning, perfect blue skies, swim, breakfast, entertainment for all as Dougal attempted to bond with a living animal and was carried off across the pampas for an hour clinging to the reins with white knuckles while trying to look like he'd done it all his life, swim, steak sandwich, swim, bell rung for lunch, sausage and steak, swim, 'sunbathe'... before eventually dragging ourselves back to reality and convoy home to the smoke...
Some weekends they do truly and properly rock.
No comments:
Post a Comment