When I first met Brian, a sport he enjoyed was watching or going to the races with the odd bet thrown in for good measure, so when we went on our first holiday together with friends we suggested going horse riding I was surprised by Brian's instant horrific reaction at the mere thought of even being close to a horse, but over a week we managed to convince him that it would be safe and we would ask one of the stable hands to trek with a rope attached to Brian's horse. One friend, a competent rider set off leaving me and the other friend to follow the stable hand and Brian. To get to the foot of the hills it was necessary to pass under a road bridge where some maintenance was taking place above and so another stable hand ran under the bridge to shout up to the workman to stop. With that the stable hand lead Brian under the bridge, but just as Brian's horse was about to come out of the other side a rock fell, making his horse rear up, and not waiting for the horse to throw him he chose to jetason himself off, and landed right in the middle of the local rubbish pile! Both myself and our friend had to turn our horses away from Brian who would've just seen the rapid movement of our shoulders rising up and down from laughing so much! It could only have happened to him! Surprisingly we managed to convince him to get back on the horse, where he spent the next hour repeatedly saying to the stable hand that he needed a drink for medicinal purposes! So with that we entered a village, dismounted and proceeded into the local bar, where the stable hand brought us a beer! The only problem was us girls couldn't finish them quick enough so we gave them to Brian, who by the time we left the bar was a little bit merry, and happy to remount and finish our trek without further incident! I never understood why I couldn't convince him to go riding again.