My kids went horse riding at school! They absolutely loved it.

Before that I never thought I would be interested.

I grew up in a part of town that even now is called a village. We had the cloister garden right in front of our house, and the farm at the end of the street, opposite the school.
There was one horse. A working horse. It pulled the plow, and I'm sure it had decided to have a bad mood during the rest of it's life. Her life, I should say. She was called Sylvia, was considered nasty and dangerous, and none ever sat on her.
Riding horses was something that didn't even enter my mind, thanks to Sylvia, not even when I saw the jockeys perfectly dressed riding shining horses with cheering people waiting for them.

I remember thinking: I would love to do that, when I saw Kazachstan Nomads enjoying horse racing.
Everyone enjoyed the event and it was clear the horses enjoyed it too.

I'd never been afraid of Sylvia, was the only one, and I asked the farmer if there was any chance.... He said: 'no!'

I never had the opportunity....