It's two years, give or take, since I've been on the back of a horse so I'm feeling a few butterflies as I'm introduced to Dizzy.
Gerry's my instructor. She's bubbly and confident and she's going to assess my riding over the next half hour.
Dizzy is an awfully big horse - 17 hands plus. A gentle giant, says Gemma...although he can be a bit of a sod, she says...and go easy with the stick as he might respond with a bit of a buck.
Great.
The last time I was on a horse I came off dramatically when my mount suddenly remembered that I had been ignoring him and stopped abruptly half way up a hill. From full flight to halt in the twinkle of an eye - from saddle to gravel in an instant.
It was my fault, of course.
Billy No Mates ll, a sturdy 16 hand skewbald Irish cob - bi-polar if not downright psychotic until you had a saddle on his back had been my constant riding companion for over three years.
We'd hunted, hacked, taken part in the infamous Man V Horse on two occasion; now I'd abandoned him and he felt marginalised.
Surprisingly I had managed to locate all my riding kit and had made my way to Mobberley riding school for my assessment.
"All the gear and no idea," my girlfriend had said, a tad harshly.
