Pakiri Beach April 24

Easter Sunday morning and we were awoken by the sounds of a hundred little kids getting their morning fix of playing on the swings and shouting in stupidly high voices. After breakfast we packed up and drove the short journey to Leigh, a small village near to the horse riding place. Needing to waste a little time, we wandered around a school 'carnival' - bit of a grand term for what was essentially a village fete, complete with a huge array of bouncy castles and raffles!

After lunch it was time for some horse-riding. Having both been looking to ride horses at some time on the trip and talking about it for ages, we finally found the ideal location - Pakiri beach, where you get the opportunity to ride across a huge private beach and then amongst the forest and sand dunes.

We both strapped on our ridiculously oversized helmets and waited in the paddock with a group of about 20 others to be paired up with our horse. After a nervous wait, we were both eventually sat upon our 'steeds' for the afternoon. Janine on a 'feisty little b****' called Jazz and me on a fidgety fella called Dundee. After a 10-second lesson on how to ride a horse, complete with a couple of mandatory jokes about 'which one is the accelerator' we were ready to set off. The first part of the trek took us through a stream and then forest until we reached the beach. It was my first experience of horse-riding and I was full of bravado and images of riding majestically a la Aragon, Lord Of The Rings style, until I got aboard and realised that I was at the mercy of a huge animal who you have to kick to make it go!

After about ten minutes though, me and Dundee were on the same page and he was gradually deciding to do as I asked, either through some sort of mutual respect or just because he felt a bit sorry for me and my pathetic attempts at horse whispering 'look mate, I know I don't know what I'm doing, you know I don't know what I'm doing, lets just get through this without both looking like idiots, alright?!' (more likely). All fears went out the window allowing me to relax and take in the general awesomeness of riding along a beautiful deserted beach on top of such a beautiful creature.

A mile or so up the beach and we were encouraged to progress into a trot, things were starting to spice up now as I gave Dundee a little kick and said something along the lines of 'get up boy' which sort of sounded right and he obliged by going a bit faster and bouncing me about. We then took a track off the beach through the tree-lined dunes and split into groups of those who were allowed to go for a canter and those that weren't. The guides obviously saw how much of a brilliant team me and Dundee made and allowed us to go for it along with the 'feisty little b****' and the horse she was riding (too easy!). To the uninitiated in all things 'horsey', a Canter is like third gear and quite scary, especially when it's up and down steep sand dunes. Gripping the reigns so tight that my hands started turning white, me and Dundee raced along, with Janine bouncing around on Jazz in front of us. We eventually returned along the track we came in on and after dismounting both agreed that it was a fantastic experience, one of the things I've enjoyed the most on the whole trip.