Well what can I say about week two? Nothing too exciting happened during the school week, other than attending classes and realizing that I will actually have to study for class and came to the conclusion that I am not so sure about how travel is going to work this semester.
I should just book random flights today, to anywhere that seems of interest. I am sure two days in each city is enough to at least see parts that I would want to see.
After the week I was too exhausted to do anything, so I stayed home and slept all Friday. All. Friday. I slept. My flatmate had her brother over and I feel really bad for not going to dinner with them, but I was too exhausted to do anything, and I woke up reading the text too late. But that is okay, because the next day we all went horseback riding. Oh boy was I in for a treat. I have been horseback riding before, but I am pretty sure all my flatmates grew up riding horses as they seemed to want to go faster and faster on the horses. It was my first time ever going tremendously fast on a horse and I felt like a loser. It was clear that all my flatmates grew up riding horses, and english style horse riding for that matter. I have only ever ridden western style and I felt so very out of place. The saddle for english is smaller, and you don’t have as much support in general, so I was ridding the horse completely wrong. After a while I got used to it though, I figured, “fake it until you make it,” right? Well, no. For the last few minutes, they let the horses ride fast. So fast I thought I was going to fall off and break my neck, but I was not about to do that in front of my flatmates, so I held on for dear life and tried my best at staying on the horse. It was fun, despite my heart falling out of my chest five thousand times. In fact, my legs are still sore from horse back riding, and I really want to go again. I got some good shots of the scenery.
My flatmates and I got really drunk that night actually and I had to call it a night before midnight. I hate the drinking customs here, it is impossible to stay sober when out with friends. Spain is a dangerous country, said with the most humor I can say because Segovia is actually very safe. I never feel in danger when walking the streets at 4am, which is quite often if this drinking patter becomes a habit, which I am trying not to let it become.
Wish me luck, y’all.