Monday

As promised, the rain was pounding before we got up. Most of us had decent gear, though several lamented having left one or another item at home because ‘it doesn’t rain in Andalusia.’ We’ll skip the jokes about rain in Spain. No plains in this part of the country anyway.

The horses weren’t all that used to rain either. As Alfonso put it, `It doesn’t rain much here so we don’t go out, we just wait until tomorrow.’ That didn’t stop him from getting on his white horse and leading the other 11 of us (including Maria Elena) out for our expedition. We had always planned on returning to the same place tonight, so it was easy to cut the itinerary a little short. As Maria Elena put it, `We’ll ride until lunch and see how we feel.’

Long before lunch, we felt wet. The rain was not terribly hard, but it was quite windy. We rode through pretty much the same kind of territory as the day before– olive and orange orchards and fields of baby almond plants, protected by white paper cones. Maria Elena said one of the great things about living in Spain was that you could have seasonal fruit all year round. They’d already harvested the oranges, for instance, and peaches were just around the corner – in early April! The same dogs came with us, undeterred by weather of course.

We cantered the horses for the first time and I found that Capricho has a lovely ground-eating stride, not real smooth but lots of pep. He's pictured here later in the ride.

No one had any real misbehavior problems – contrary to past group rides I’ve taken, everyone on this one knows what they’re doing – so we were able to stay in a line.

After a few damp hours it was time for aperitivo. This is a meal that is almost as big as lunch and occurs at about the same time as (normal) lunch but is just a precursor to the real thing. We tethered the damp horses to a rope line and squished off.

`I don’t just have buckets of water in my boots,’ said Philippe. `I have fishes.’  Sheltered by what are called parasol pines, for obvious reasons, we managed to down more of the lovely Iberian ham, which I had also scarfed down for breakfast, as well as sherry and red wine. Joe and I took a photo to send to our friends Sue and Nancy, who had been on the northern trip with us. The weather will look familiar to them.

Then a half-hour more of riding, in some of the worst rain yet, and it was time to get wet in our bathtubs rather than on our horses. Once dry, we sat down to what we thought was a copious and delicious lunch of salad with the same tuna-like fish as last night and some incredibly fresh local shrimp, boiled and treated with salt. What a rookie mistake: next they brought out a chickpea stew kind of thing, redolent with tomatoes and olive oil. And when we thought it was finally over, a huge plate of meats, including blood sausage and beef roast. I will say that most of us, including me, managed to get on the outside of a little of that too, while chugging down the local vino tinto. I begged Maria Elena to ask them to make dinner – at 9:30pm -- very light.

I guess pork in mushroom sauce is light to some people. But in any case, even after a quiet late afternoon of siesta, reading and email,  it went down well. And we enjoyed drying off in front of the fire and getting to know each other.






And walking back to my room after dinner – it was almost midnight – I looked up and saw that the clear sky was filled with stars.