It was good to get back on the horse - last time, Crista and I were both ill and riding was painful. It was still a little painful when my horse was bouncing, but I really enjoyed it. I went out with a cowboy (not sure what to call him exactly) Don Juan, and his friend's daughter. We rode on dirt roads, with lovely views of the mountains, of the farms.
He spoke no English, but we still got to the heart of what was up. "Triste, triste." And indeed.