Marek We rented an off-roader. Suzuki Vitara. The owner of the car probably bought it from some museum and made sure that it remained in its original condition. We didn’t have to leave any lien. The car leaves a trace in the form of a narrow trickle of rust while driving. The owner, if necessary, will find us within an hour or two. The car provides us with the opportunity to get to every end of the island. However, the real romantic adventure is a horse ride along the ocean shore and the trail of subsequent Moai stands.
It took us an hour to go from word to action. All it took was a question asked to Diego and an hour later, there were two steeds standing in front of our hotel. Horses, like horses, but the equipment was made of “whatever it was possible”. Prepared by a clever craftsman for western style riding. Horses well fed, rested and relaxed. Their owner probably took the first pair from the herds grazing all over the island. Admittedly, we were expecting a guide, but what for? You can’t get lost here, and the horses know the way themselves. They know exactly which way to go, so as not to knock their hooves on the stones sticking out everywhere. The owner said that he would come back for the horses at 2 p.m. and said goodbye to us with a wide smile (it wasn’t cheap). So we set off on a horseback trip around the island.
I will not bore you with the story of our trip. Suffice it to say that we came back as agreed, exactly at 2:00 p.m. and we sat in soft armchairs with relief. Putting ice bags on would be a good idea if it weren’t for the fact that the ice cubes are hard. We left the horses in the meadow in front of the door to our room and calmly took care of waiting for their owner.
After an hour, we started talking about the punctuality of the Islanders. After two, the first anxiety appeared. After three months, a downpour began, out of pity we took the horses to the roof over the door of the hotel room. After four hours of waiting, I set off in search of the owner of the horses. Mary and Diego were not around, I accosted the first passer-by. The town is small, maybe it will recognize the owner by the unusual appearance of the saddles. The guy waved his hand and just threw under his breath to let the horses go, they know what to do.
Actually, when in the evening I began to be happy that I had just become the owner of two beautiful steeds, their owner appeared. He grabbed the money, thanked him, whistled at the horses and walked away. And half a day went… Eh…
