Nothing in life is quite so invigorating as racing across a beachy strand on
horseback. Brendan Gallagher takes up the reins...
If you are not into wild deserted beaches, crashing surf, rugged outcrops and
the smell of peat fires you won’t enjoy this at all. If you detest the
thought of long days in the saddle, hot toddies by a roaring fire, the smack
of a salty wind on your cheek, five star food and probably the best view of
any breakfast room anywhere in the world you’d better move.
For some, however, a short riding break at the Grange Horse Holiday Farm, situated
on the Sligo-Donegal border, constitutes the perfect holiday.
I arrived in trepidation. What had sounded a good idea a couple of months earlier
now seemed ridiculously ambitious for a novice rider. I departed achingly healthy
from head to toe in the sure knowledge that I had never felt happier. I was
also cursing inwardly that I hadn’t discovered Anhold and Colette Tilman’s
slice of paradise 20 years ago, when the body was more able.
On the first day I pitched up early, tiptoed through the open front door and
found a note inviting me to raid the fridge, it’s that kind of place. We
went down to Trawalua beach — four miles long, huge 20 foot waves crashing
half a mile out to sea and not a soul in sight. The strand of your dreams. A
slight nudge in Cormack’s ribs and we were galloping away. Sheer terror
at first, then cautious enjoyment and finally shrieks of joy. We slowed to a
walk. Can we do that again? And again. Absolutely briliant.
The next two days were entirely different. I was paired with two very experienced
Belgian trail riders, Peter and Natalie, to undertake the first two days of
the seven-day Donegal trail. Luckily we got on like a house on fire although
as you get to know Anhold, universally known as Tilman, you realise luck had
nothing to do with it. He is, if anything, a better judge of humans than horses
and he’s renowned throughout Ireland for the latter.
Initially Peter seemed a little difficult, a perfectionist who worried over
small details. But Tilman had immediately spotted that Peter was also a superb
and caring horseman who simply loved to share his knowledge and skill —
a born teacher. Natalie was a fine rider and the most even-tempered of companions,
the perfect foil. Both had fallen in love with Donegal and Tilman quickly sussed
that although a novice rider I was determined to stay the course. He also knew
I had been visiting the area for 20 years and would happily act as unofficial
tour guide. Within half an hour we were mates for life.
The first day started badly in that our planned 1pm start from a trail just
north of the Barnesmore Gap across the Donegal Highlands to the mountain village
of Letterhillue was delayed by a nasty traffic accident. We eventually set off
on a glorious late autumn evening across the hills, four hours hard riding in
prospect to find our bed and breakfast where a piping beef stew awaited, though
only after we had fed and cleaned the horses. In fact, driven on by Peter, we
made cracking time although we still needed his torch as we clip-clopped down
the lane in Letterhillue.
The second day was a testing 20-mile marathon across equally beautiful rugged
terrain. I was really tired, my back was hurting, my butt was sore and I even
had to walk the last two miles with my horse but I wouldn’t swap that day
for anything. The scenery, the isolation, the birdsong, the yarning and the
certain knowledge that for today at least nobody in the world was in a more
beautiful setting or having a better time.
That’s where my trail ended. The next morning Tilman picked me up and I
was back at the Grange ploughing through some pressing work on the laptop. Working
in their breakfast room, the hub of the entire farm, is something only those
with a pressing deadline can undertake. The view is utterly gorgeous and unique
— they ought to have a webcam simply trained on that view, a cult site
for sure.
I loved the mountains but when I go again — and I shall before my three
score and ten are up — I’m going to spend more time riding on the
beaches. Much easier on the back. They say that on certain days and given certain
tide conditions you could ride a full 25 miles on the beaches south along the
Sligo coast if you or the horse have the energy.
It’s a magical part of the world that moves people to lyricism. Helene
Lardav, from Sweden, caught the mood perfectly when she quoted W B Yeates in
the comments book: “To see a world in a grain of sand; Or heaven in a wild
flower; To hold eternity in your hand; And infinity for an hour.”
The ever practical Peter was also moved: “A day on this trail is like a
week’s holiday, a week on trail is like a month away. You pack so much
in.” A veteran of just about every great ride in the world he and Natalie
went on to complete seven days of the Donegal trail and pronounced it as the
best ever. Their other highlight, he insisted, was learning how to make and
drink hot toddies. Heaven knows we practiced enough.
n The Holiday Horse Farm: Season runs from April to November. Phone 00353 7166152.
www.horseholidayfarm.net
