Stupid Bloody Horse!

So this one is about mountains and horses. A winter wonderland of white snow, stunning views and fat sh*tting ponies. It’s also about my experience with scenic mountains and sub-zero temperatures, warm fires and smoky tents, and the ice-cold beauty of this new, strange environment.
I conquered it on horseback. And I was rewarded with extremely chapped lips. Now Chinese horses aren’t like European or American ones. In fact, they are fat, stubborn and have a tendency to, well, sh*t.
Imagining the terrifying Mongol horde charging into battle on them, whooping and yelling, is, frankly, hilarious. But enough about that for now.
Onto my experience. I was on a horse, cold wind blowing in my face. I was glad when we got off to let the horses go down a snowy hillside. That, for me, was the highlight of the journey.

Me on the mountain, enjoying the snow.

As you can see, I loved that snow. I didn’t feel cold, just happy. It was great. That was one of the only things that made it worthwhile. I was running around, sliding, making snow angels and even eating the snow. I made a snowman too.
Our camp was a scenic clearing by a stream, inhabited by a friendly family who had come to cut timber. I liked hacking stuff up with the hooked bark-stripping tool they were using. We slept in a two-person tent under several blankets.
My worst mistake was throwing a snowball at the kid. Apparently, to his mind, a snowball fight involves pinning someone down and rubbing snow in their face. :( Though at times it got so smoky I saw everyone as silhouettes, the tent, with its fire, was a welcome relief.
Everything they cooked was very nice, but entirely vegetarian. The reason for this, as I found out, was that leftovers were then fed to the horses. We ended up farting like they were!
Major drawbacks: Biting cold and an uncontrollable horse. Sort of uncontrollable, anyway. As my mother, the digital fascist, says, stopping my horse is beginner level control.
But enough about that. I hope this has been informative!

My tubby horse.

Note: It was in Tibet. Sorry for not specifying.

Tiger, um, jumping, gorge

Well then. That was fun. We’ve just come back from a trek through Tiger Leaping (or jumping, said the signs at the Tina’s guesthouse) gorge.

Apparently a hunter was chasing a Tiger, but the Tiger didn’t want to die (weird eh?) and jumped across the narrowest point of the gorge (and the Yangtze), hence the name.
Anyways, I got some lovely photos and the trek was, well, quite enjoyable (you win mum).

A pretty red flower, freshly Lightroom'd and such.

And it was well worth The Sims 3 for my computer. So, I liked it. Mum actually went down there and stood on the spot where the tiger was said to have jumped.
Yeah, um, I sort of stayed in the room a little watching Doctor Who. And now, guess what? So many unfit tourons haven’t been able to cope, they’ve made up a new spot where the Tiger jumped. Tourism. Honestly. Look, if you can’t do it, don’t complain.
Okay, I’m bored now. Post over. Bye. Seriously, bye. Stop reading. I SAID BYE!!!