This week, I was mainly working at home, sorting my documentation from Argentina. I found a lot of objects that made me relive that fabulous horse riding trip of a yearlong. One of the things I found, was a picture from a horse riding trip in New Zealand. During my first world tour, in 1992, I came to the South Island of New Zealand. In a town called Greymouth. At the backpacker hostel there, they had lots of offers on a clipboard, for a large variety of activities. One of those, was a horse riding trip in the mountains. I enrolled, together with a couple of Chinese people. We all appeared to be absolute beginners and got instructions how to sit on, and ride a horse. It became a hilarious trip. Many of the Chinese fell of their horse during the trip, because they were unable to keep the horse from bending its head down to take a juicy bite of grass on the way. My horse was a big one, that had come from nowhere during a winter when millions of sheep had died in unmatched snowfall. An owner never showed up. I had a wonderful ride that day, unforgettable.
Horse riding in 1992 in New Zealand.
This particular event lead eventually to my plan to go horse riding in Argentina on a 15-month long holiday in 1999.
This picture will disappear when plans are executed into “ensemble”.
Apart from that sorting of documentation, I did not much else but walking, eating and sleeping. Of course, I attend a service in my local church and the follow up, seeing my family in Eemnes.
Centre for elderly care: The Lichtenberg”.
I bought a birthday present for the daughter of my friend in Slovakia and posted it.
On Friday, the animal sanctuary called and asked me to take hatch hog to Huizen, which I did.
Market day in Soestdijk.
On the way back, I went to the family in Eemnes, where I only found one of the boys at home. He had a list of ‘things to do’ from his mother. I did help him with one of the more difficult jobs.
This rose, in memory of my son, is proudly standing there now for 4 weeks, not deteriorated.
And that was all this week.
Walking the neighbourhood.
Week 47-1998, Ushuaia.
I am a bit stuck this week, because the owner of the local ‘Centro Hipico’ is in Buenos Aires. He is the only one helping me to find horses. At the tourist information office, I get some information about travelling to Chili, with horses. They advise me wrongly, that going to Chili with Argentinian horses is possible: it is not! The weather here is changing from pure winter with lots of snow, into lovely spring weather with a warm sun the next day. I do a lot of walking and talking, especially with the many travellers from all over the world. Prices for living are pretty moderate, for me. Meat, sigarettes and alcohol are cheap. I can stay here a long time if I want to, but that is not my idea.