Whoaaaa, Nelly!

Yesterday morning I overcame my unreasonable and unpublicized fear of horses. As part of my 4 day trip to the Venezuelan plains (los llanos) the locals took us on a 3 hour horse ride. Here in los llanos horses are the primary form of transportation; so as the old adage goes - When in Rome, ride horses.
When the llaneros assigned us to our equine equivalents, everyone ran over to pet, coo and speak sweetly to their new partners in crime. I, on the other hand, stared my horse down (from 5 feet away), one hand on hip, the other one fiercely pointing at him and articulated my rules...
1) No galloping
2) No trotting
3) No leaping over things
4) No copulating
5) and no horseplay!!!
My horse's name was Borracho which loosely translates into Drunkard, a moniker appropriately assigned to him for his slow unpredictable gait. Before we began riding, the llaneros gave us an orientation and crash course on horseback riding - how to direct the horse, how to get it to walk faster, how to sit properly. They talked for about 15 minutes but all I wanted to know was this one thing - how to stop.
Turns out that the next 3 hours were absolutely delightful. Like in old western movies Borracho and I ambled down dirt roads, across marshly plains, and through rivers...and into the sunset.