It had nothing to do with the lovely facilities of the Murphys Suites, where friendly staff, a comfortable bed and a cookie jar full of Oreos made me feel right at home.
Instead my restlessness came from the knowledge that despite years of living in different parts of the world - I was still at heart a city child. I am more at home scrambling aboard the M10 bus along Manhattan's West Side than climbing atop a horse.
And yet here I was turning up a dirt road in Vallecito, midway between Angel's Camp and Murphys, to go horseback riding.
Somehow years of joyfully screaming "giddy-yap" while astride a plodding pony in a circled ring at the Bronx Zoo paled immensely when I saw the size of the California horses being lead out of the sun dappled fields.
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