Wild West Country
Extract from 'Living' article by Doug Akroyd.
I'd always hankered after riding a horse like those cowboys on so many Western movies, cruising across the plains or galloping out of trouble like Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid and countless others.
And this year I finally got the chance - in Cornwall.
Blessed with weather that wouldn't have been out of place in some of those hot and dusty two-bit towns frequented by the good guys and the bad guys in American frontierland, I took to the Western saddle during a week at a horse-riding retreat just a cowgirl's spit away from Penzance.
It was nearly 50 years since I was last in the Duchy, and little of what I had seen then had remained impinged on my memory, save for the crashing of the waves against the jagged coastline at the very southern tip of England.
We had decided to spend the first of two weeks there exploring some of the countryside on horseback, courtesy of a very relaxed stabling yard tucked away in the countryside village of St Hilary near the seaside town of Marazion.
It's always something of a gamble booking a horse-riding adventure from afar, as we have found to our cost in the past, but this time we certainly landed on our feet with a set-up that was entirely suited to what we were searching for in a holiday in the saddle.
Riding at The Old Vicarage combined fun, flair, variety, relaxation and adventure with excellent horsemanship, learning, discipline and safety.
Genial hosts John and Rosie run the yard next to their old country vicarage home that doubles as a nicely-appointed guest house.
We stayed in one of the biggest rooms I have ever rattled around in, and enjoyed great breakfasts and evening meals to fortify us against the horsey exercise of the day.
And it appeared to be pretty much up to us just what we wanted to get out of each day. Guided by two great characters, Chris and Julia, who both seem to have been born on horses, we hacked out across country on a network of bridleways, tried bareback riding, even free-reined a three-year-old stallion, watching it canter round a tight circular out- door school, ostensibly totally under our control!
I enjoyed their natural style of coaching which took us back to some of the basics as well as teaching intriguing new techniques for getting the best out of your horse.
We also decided to take up the option of learning to ride Western style, taught by another excellent instructor, Bob, who lived the part with cowboy hat, Confederate belt on his Levi jeans and cowboy boots.
Under his expert tuition, we learned the rudiments of controlling our Morgan horses - the choice of the US Cavalry in bygone days - with the lightest of touches, and I was left in awe at the incredible response of the horses to our instructions.
You could suddenly imagine yourself rounding hundreds of head of cattle on ranches in the great plains of the US... or galloping after the baddies in a cowboy movie!
Time seemed to slip by so easily, and we never managed to take up two other options I quite fancied... horse carriage driving and galloping across the nearby beaches. Tides, unfortunately, were against us, being low at peak times for other beach visitors, so that treat will have to wait for a return visit in the future.
Our time there, though, wasn’t entirely confined to horse matters, and ...