Ride Gringo

We said we’d stay for 10 minutes

Five hours later we were still drinking beer and eating bbq beef with hundreds of real cowboys and girls

Yesterday I teamed up with Val. A nurse from Sao Paulo. More importantly she’s one of the few pilgrims doing the Caminho on foot

We’d seen lots of horse riders out in big groups. I assumed it was normal Sunday activity until we arrived in a one horse town called Fazenda velha. Today it was a 200 horse town

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It was like arriving on the set of a John Ford western. Scores of men and women rode and raced their steeds up and down the  street

Others lounged in bars. Getting steadily drunk on beer and the local brew

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We were adopted by some locals and the party went on all day. At one point a local lass asked me to dance in the main street. Some south America beat.

If I know one thing it is not to trifle with local women when traveling
You dont know what could happen specially when the booze is flowing
“You are a long way from home Gringo”
I shuffled awkwardly inwardly praying none of the cowboys watching us was her husband. Or father.

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But all was well. We were bundled into a car and driven to the next village where the revelry continued

It was the festival of the horse.  Where locals show off their animals and riding skills

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We left it too late of course. And finished the day in darkness

But not before a group of riders caught us up and insisted I ride a horse for a few km
I hung  on for dear life as the prodigously pissed gaucho beside me swing from side to side but somehow clung on as we rode under an impressive night sky.

A fantastic day

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