National Geographic's "Digital Nomad" Andrew Evans is on a 2 city tour of South Africa, and his recent post is a nice look at life lived at a slower pace while riding a horse named Poison. Here's an excerpt of his lighthearted and humorous post:
The slower you travel, the more you see.
That is why walking is the best way to know a place. And when the place is as magnificent and gigantic (almost 4 miles long) as Noordhoek Beach, then you can save time and get a horse to do the walking for you.
Giffie sounds like an innocent, fun little horsey name, but as I climbed into the prim English saddle strapped on his shiny black back, I asked what his name actually meant. (I have learned from experience that a horse’s name says a lot about his character. Also, I have learned that horses in general don’t like me very much.)
“Giffie?” the horse handler sputtered, “Well . . . it means poison in Afrikaans.”
How quaint, I thought, as I patted poison on the neck. There was a story there—how when he was just a foal, he ate a lot of poisonous plants and somehow defeated death—but I was already biased. Riding a horse named “Little Poison” does not inspire a sense of security and well-being.
Follow along with the Digital Nomad on his National Geographic blog and on his Twitter account @WheresAndrew.
The slower you travel, the more you see.
That is why walking is the best way to know a place. And when the place is as magnificent and gigantic (almost 4 miles long) as Noordhoek Beach, then you can save time and get a horse to do the walking for you.
Giffie sounds like an innocent, fun little horsey name, but as I climbed into the prim English saddle strapped on his shiny black back, I asked what his name actually meant. (I have learned from experience that a horse’s name says a lot about his character. Also, I have learned that horses in general don’t like me very much.)
“Giffie?” the horse handler sputtered, “Well . . . it means poison in Afrikaans.”
How quaint, I thought, as I patted poison on the neck. There was a story there—how when he was just a foal, he ate a lot of poisonous plants and somehow defeated death—but I was already biased. Riding a horse named “Little Poison” does not inspire a sense of security and well-being.
Follow along with the Digital Nomad on his National Geographic blog and on his Twitter account @WheresAndrew.