I’ve never been much of a horseman, though horses and I have crossed paths many times over the years. One of my earliest memories of being on a horse would probably qualify as scarring. I was 10, living in Africa with my parents, a doctor and a nurse who had decided at ages 41 and 37 to move their young family to Kenya for a while. That wasn’t the scarring part. For my brother and me, Kenya was the ultimate playground—a whole country full of dangerous animals, camping in the wild, and soccer (football, we learned) everyday, played barefoot and with a tennis ball. The part I didn’t like about living in Africa was that often on Sundays we packed into our old Land Cruiser and drove the Ngong Road from Nairobi to the town of Karen and the home of the Cunninghams.
'Give 'Em Their Head'
'Give 'Em Their Head'
'Give 'Em Their Head'
I’ve never been much of a horseman, though horses and I have crossed paths many times over the years. One of my earliest memories of being on a horse would probably qualify as scarring. I was 10, living in Africa with my parents, a doctor and a nurse who had decided at ages 41 and 37 to move their young family to Kenya for a while. That wasn’t the scarring part. For my brother and me, Kenya was the ultimate playground—a whole country full of dangerous animals, camping in the wild, and soccer (football, we learned) everyday, played barefoot and with a tennis ball. The part I didn’t like about living in Africa was that often on Sundays we packed into our old Land Cruiser and drove the Ngong Road from Nairobi to the town of Karen and the home of the Cunninghams.