DECEMBER 23, 2007 I arrive in Málaga after an uneventful flight. I sleep through most of it, although it's difficult. The flight attendants are always trying to sell you something, food, water, fragrances. I get a bit of a kip, though, and flow into the feeling of travelling, disembarking, following signs, turning on my phone, …
In Which It Appears I May Not Make it to Spain
23 DECEMBER, 2007 Up at 4 a.m., into the taxi at ten to 5, and I arrived at Dublin Airport at 5.15. Plenty of time. Except that we've driven straight into Bedlam. The taximan looked at me in the rearview, after we'd both assessed the mile-long snake of taxis trying to make their way up …
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Vaya-ing Con Dios
The last few days have passed in a blur of Christmas cheer-ing and anticipation. As things wound down, I now realise that I was busily— quietly— winding myself up. Not in the Irish sense [teasing] but rather in the American sense [obsessing]. I do believe I'm nervous. I begged Emma for Rebel [!] today; I …
Not Quite Adios…
FIVE DAYS TO SPAIN Well, I started packing on Saturday. I got excited. As well as liking to be as organised as possible. I ordered new jodhs from the UK that actually arrived yesterday, so I won't disgrace myself— my favourite pair is going from broken-in to just broken. There's one last mend in them, …
Yup. It Works.
'You rode Rebel really well last week!' One of the eight-year-olds beamed up at me. I beamed down at her. Today was raw, the sky low and grey, but there was a thrilling lack of gale force winds, and having had a break on Tuesday, I was looking forward to Reb and trying out my …
Reeking of Sentiment
All the petty annoyances of the day— from the moment I set foot on the pavement in the morning, to the traffic on the road to the stable that evening— every single one disintegrated from the first whiff of the yard, that acrid bouquet of mud, shit and piss clearing them all away. Is she …
Mind and Matter
I'm still thinking about Saturday. I can still see it happening: coming round at the A end, Bounty just ahead, and yup, there she goes, dancing to the right, and here we go, Rebel leaping, skitting, starting to buck, maybe bucking, and somewhere between the skit and the all-but-buck, I sat back. I can still …
Ah.
We're all starting to wonder when the winds are going to die down. I woke to rain and gales— and living as I do on the coast of Dublin Bay, the elements are that much closer for inspection— and for the first time in sixteen months I wondered, Will I give it a miss? A thought …
Oh, The Pain, The Pain
THAT WHICH DOESN'T KILL YOU... The wind was blowing again last night, less strenuously, and Rebel was either less bothered by it, or inured. He was shaking his head a lot, still adjusting to his fancy new bridle— it's always something with this guy— and everything was fine... I had said to Nikki, before the …
An Ill Wind
It's been months since I've had to walk up the long, long road to the yard. I can summon a fairly robust nostalgia for it, that walk, I can remember the very first day I walked it, the mounting excitement [and by excitement, I mean 'fear'], the uncertainty of direction, the first few strides up …
MANY BRAVE FOOLS 