The horses of Europe: Identity, part two

Anne promised me a beach ride, but the ride she delivered was so much more than that.  

The first part of the ride took us through the streets of Noordwijkerhout. 

We rode along the canals, crossing paths with all kinds of traffic. 

Then - in the blink of an eye - we traded the city for the woods.

This is where we started to do a lot of trotting and cantering. 

Identity was a willing mount, but she was not particularly fast. Our guide kept telling me to "keep Identity close." I tried my best, but it was a constant struggle.

Eventually, the trees thinned out...

and the woods gave way to dunes. 

We trotted and cantered some more. We went over a rise, and I caught sight of the beach. 

We headed straight down to the water's edge. 

The ocean breeze blew our horses' manes and tails to the side.

It was glorious.

We rode a long way and did some more trotting and cantering. Although it had been hard to get Identity to move out on the trail, she turned into a freight train on the beach. The Dutch word for canter is "galop," which is appropriate because what we were doing was full on galloping.

It was so much fun.

photo by Anna Dobrowolska-Oczko

I hadn't ridden on the beach since I was ten. I hope I don't have to wait forty years until I do it again.

Before we left the beach, we lined up for photos.

We crossed paths with Carol as we climbed back up to the dunes.

photo by Charlotte Pijnenburg

She took our photos, and I told her she had been right not to come with us. We'd done so much trotting and cantering. She's a solid recreational trail rider, but this would have been too much for her.

photo by Charlotte Pijnenburg

We rode over the dunes,

through the woods...

and back into town. 

We crossed the road...

and then we arrived at Manege Bakker.

Anne took one last photo of Identity and I put her back in her stall.

"Good girl, Identity. You really are a nice horse."

Thank you so much to Anne, Carol and all the Dutch hobbyists who made this day so memorable. I loved riding in the ring, along the road, through the woods, over the dunes and on the beach in the Netherlands!

The horses of Europe: Identity, part one

My Dutch friend, Anne van der Weel told me that if were to visit the Netherlands, she would arrange for us to ride horses on the beach. 

photo courtesy of Charlotte Pijnenburg

So on the third day of our European road trip, Carol, Anne and I drove to Manege Bakker in Noordwijkerhout.

There we joined five of the hobbyists I'd met at the previous day's NaMoPaiMo party (Anna Dobrowolska-Oczko, Tamzyn Revolta, Charlotte Pijnenburg, Amy de Waal and Marjolein van Baarle) plus one new-to-me person, Vivian Tusveld. We paid for our ride in the office/lounge overlooking the indoor arena. I was surprised to note that I did not have to sign a liability waiver.

We then proceeded to the barn aisle, where we were assigned our horses. The woman in charge asked me how long I'd been riding and if I preferred a big horse or a little one. I told her,"all my life," and "either is fine." She told me I would be riding Identity. 

Each rider was tasked with preparing her horse. I grabbed a couple brushes from the tack room and headed down the barn aisle in search of Identity.

Found her!

She was big bay mare, who looked pleasant enough until I tried to brush her. At that point she put her ears back and chased me right out the door.

I took a moment to regroup and went in again, this time with a halter I found on her door. Tamzyn held her for me, and I was able to groom and tack her without further incident.

I then led her to the indoor arena, where everyone was waiting to mount.

When it was my turn, I asked the person who was assisting what breed of horse Identity was. There was a little bit of a language gap, and it was clear she didn't understand what I was asking. I tried again. She patted my leg, and said, "She's a nice horse." 

Later, I asked Charlotte to pose the question again, this time in Dutch. This time the answer was Dutch Warmblood.

As soon as we were mounted, we were told to go out on the rail and walk. This allowed us to get used to our horses while the staff assessed our riding ability.

Identity was a little stiff, but she moved out willingly. I felt like I done well being assigned to her.

Still, I couldn't help but admire some of my friends' horses, including Anna's Scar,

 Anne's Black Forest horse, Jack...

 and Charlotte's pretty pinto.

More and more riders came into the ring. It began to feel very crowded. 

When everyone was mounted, we were told to trot. It was at this point that Carol decided to call it a day. I was disappointed for her, but I also suspected that she was making a good decision. As it turned out, that was definitely the case.

With that settled, we split into two different groups - model horse hobbyists and everyone else - and headed out.

 We crossed the road and turned toward the beach. 

I was so excited. After months of anticipation, my Dutch beach ride was finally happening!

To be continued.

Alpakafarm Schaber

Shortly after she moved to Germany, my friend Carol joined the Stuttgart International Woman's Group. Every couple weeks, the group gets together for food and various social outings. One of those meet-ups took place at Alpakafarm Schaber in Nürtingen-Neckarhausen, Germany.

Carol fell head over heels in love with the alpacas.

She started volunteering at the alpaca farm, and her Facebook feed has been filled with alpaca pictures ever since.

When she asked me what I wanted to do while I was in Germany, visiting the alpacas was the number one item on my list.

So, on my last Friday in Europe, Carol and I drove out into the German countryside.

We were scheduled to "help" with a birthday group, but we arrived a little early so we could spend time in the pastures.

As the party goers began to arrive, the alpacas were herded into the barn.

Carol and I helped catch and halter them.

Most of the alpacas did not want to be caught, so this involved grabbing them by the neck as they ran past you. It was a little bit of a rodeo, but also so much fun. Alpacas are small enough to be non-intimidating, especially if you're used to horses. Also, most of them stood very kindly once they'd been caught.

The kids lined up to get their alpacas. Since I was a volunteer, I got the last alpaca, which was - no surprise - the surliest and least cooperative of the group.

His name was Oziander.

There was a quick lesson in alpaca handling, and then we set out.

Most of the alpacas walked really nicely.

Not Oziander.

He leaned against the rope.

He pulled.

He wouldn't stay in line.

He made a lot of noises.

I worked with him the way I would with a naughty horse. 

He got better... Sort of. 

Oh, Oziander!

This was such a fun day!

Thank you, Carol, for sharing the alpacas with me. They are as amazing as you said they were, especially my bad boy, Oziander!