Both mares had been stabled in a bus station in central Lahore on the private estate of Mr. Hasan Farooq , a reknown polo player of the city. In fact I was lucky. Most private stables as well as Lahore Race course and Polo Club were quarantined at present due to an outbreak of Flanders disease. Scores of horses had already died and nobody wanted that to continue.

Although a little late, the leaving ceremony for the Riding for Education campaign was a blast. It was held at the same school I’d been teaching at almost ten months before and it was great to see so many familiar faces to see me off. In Pakistan nomadic people are called Khana Badosh which literally means ‘house on your shoulder.’ They are always a supremely warm and friendly people and their children have amazing learning abilities given the harsh reality of the life they lead.

Read Riding for Education Departure: Godh School, Lahore

Almost two hundred children were present, PTV, SPO and several guests including CAP Pakistan and Suddar and a rather dubious chap riding a cardboard horse. Qwwali music was played, drums rolled and performances given by the children. Most NGOs in Pakistan know about the energetic work of Nazir Ghazi and Godh and this event was no exception. Godh works hard to educate and provide health care to nomadic communities across Lahore . People who otherwise are neglected by society. With Pakistan TV (PTV) coverage of this event and the news articles generated I deeply personally hope that the colourful world of Godh can be brought to many nomadic families across Pakistan. This is Nazir Ghazi’s dream. I hope to help make it a reality.

Horses won’t live your way, they live their own and fixing schedules can be nigh high to impossible. It took seven hours to ride across Lahore . I’d never coped with two horses before under heavy traffic and these two were very nervous. It certainly gave PTV a drama. Kabul was in front and Sparks was behind. Sparks was the most troublesome, always competing to be in front of me and Kabul . Her name is completely justified always rushing somewhere but with no particular direction (SPARC is also a famous NGO fighting for children’s rights in Pakistan ). Every five minutes the mare would launch into a high stepping prance as if to prove her authority in our ‘herd.’ She continually wanted to rush ahead which could potentially put us in a dangerous situation.

Along the way we had a beautiful encounter with Caricas Pakistan who had arranged for a local blind school in Lahore to welcome R4E. Around 8pm in the middle of the smog congested traffic of Lahore, 25 local blind girls and boys sand me a welcoming song to which I could only stand and stare. I was truly speechless and could only listen. When you look at the problems of your own life and then at those of others one realizes how lucky you really are. Yet these 25 boys and girls were perhaps the bravest kids I’d ever met. They’d each made banners and small notices highlighting the importance of education for all which dominated that side of the street. I walked down the line shaking hands and explaining who I was to give them the value of the encounter. It is something that I will never forget.

I stabled the mares that night in a grain whole- salers barn exactly 100m from the famous Delhi gate. It was 10pm and we’d all been on the go since 0530 that morning. The funny thing was that waking up on a charpoy the next morning felt just like ten months had never passed. I’d sat later into the night talking with the shop owners and woke cold and mosquito bitten on the charpoay at first light.

After a gorgeous banquet of sheep’s head stew (which contains all the contents of a sheep’s head in a stew!), I was sat under Delhi gate. Almost 11 months ago to the date, I’d sat outside Lahore gate in Delhi . Now once again I was trotting the old Silk Route where borders were meaningless and trade was everything. Together we moved onto the inner ring road and out of Lahore ; past the Badshahi mosque and Lahore fort. Past all the famous landmarks that had acted as a safety blanket for the past uncountable months. The first day of Ramazan was about to begin, nine more schools awaited me and I had two new mares ready to carry me on an adventure I’d never forget for the rest of my life.