‘Kidnapped’ by cowboys – galloping through San Antonio, Argentina
He bends over and whispers gently in my ear “You want a ride?” I watched as my friend wandered off, kidnapped by her cowboy, high on his steed. She turns around and waves at us, a happy smile on her face.
“Why not?” I thought. “Why the hell not”.
I jump on his horse, and he walks us away from the crowd. My two other friends walking away, taking out pictures. They are heading to a nice shady area, to relax under a tree.
The cowboys bring their horses up the path until we hit the fields.
“Gallop?” I ask my cowboy. A young boy of maybe 20. He stares at me unsure. “Gallop por favor?” I ask again, trying to imitate with my fingers fast moving feet. His eyes clears in a second of comprehension. A mischievous smile on his face.
I am in an estancia La Cinacina in San Antonio. We have just finished walking around the estate, admiring the beautiful horses they have. Marveling at the amazing meal we just finished. Having just finished watching a wonderful dance performance and a daring horsemen show.
“Why not?” I thought. “Why the hell not?”
I am in an estancia in San Antonio. My gaucho flicks the reins. He bends over me as I bend over closer to the horse. We run, we race. Through the field, my long hair blowing back. I am galloping through an open field in Argentina, riding a powerful horse, safe in the arms of an Argentinian gaucho. I smile, and then I laugh, loud and in semi disbelief, free as we race by with the wind against my face.
There are moments in life I would never forget. When a cowboy asks you to ride with him. In the middle of a picturesque landscape. No matter the fact that you have no idea where you’re going, you have no idea what he is asking you, you have no idea what will happen.
“Why not? Why the hell not?”