THE FIRST HUNGARIAN FLAG

While Hiding the First Flag, I Thought About a Place or Activity Deeply Rooted in Hungarian CultureThat’s how I ended up choosing horse riding. All you have to do is think of the ancient Hungarians, our world-famous hussars, the historically significant National Riding School — and, of course, our legendary racehorse, Kincsem.

I tried horse riding relatively late in life, in 2022, at the age of 28 — but I fell in love with it instantly. I was in Őrség with a dear friend who’s an excellent rider, and he encouraged me to give it a try. That’s how we ended up at Dobokai Lovasudvar in Őriszentpéter, where the former jockey Péter Dobokai took us on a three-hour trail ride.I learned how to position my feet in the stirrups, how to use the reins and the bridle, how to turn, trot, and steer with the reins — and by the end, I was even galloping.Péter and I have remained close friends to this day.

In the years that followed, horse riding became a regular part of my life.On a beautiful spring day in April 2024, I returned to Őrség to ride again.This time, I chose a different stable, as Péter was already booked with others.I have a personal habit: I always talk to the horses before a ride. I truly believe they understand me.This time, I was given a horse that was blind in its left eye.Out on the trail, the trotting and galloping went well.Just before we returned to the barn, there was a long, straight 500-meter stretch. I asked the guide if I could gallop all the way to the barn.She warned me to be careful, as horses often know they’re heading home and become harder to control.Still, I went for it.We caught the rhythm perfectly and flew with the wind — but I didn’t notice how close we had drifted to the ditch.For a moment, I lost my balance and instinctively pulled slightly to the left — straight toward the ditch. The horse couldn’t see it.

That’s when it happened: the horse stumbled, and I literally flew off its back.Thank God, the horse was completely unharmed — but I ended up with four broken ribs.

After the accident, I called Péter Dobokai, who laughed and simply asked,"You do know that a real rider is someone who’s already fallen off a horse at least once, right?"After the fall, a slow recovery followed, but the thought of giving up horse riding never even crossed my mind. In fact, I couldn’t wait to overcome that bad memory.

So when I arrived in New Zealand, I immediately started looking for a horse farm — and that’s how I discovered a stable on Waiheke Island.I knew instantly: this was the place where I had to hide the first flag.

Just before heading out onto the trail, I slipped the flag into the palm of my hand.I’ll admit, I was afraid when I climbed back into the saddle. Afraid of falling again.But then I told myself, Come on, Áron, you have to beat this!

And what followed was one of the most beautiful trail rides of my life.We rode through hilly vineyards, where I relearned trotting and galloping.And at the end — a dream came true: we swam in the ocean with the horses.As we splashed in the water, my horse pawed at the waves with its front right leg — clearly enjoying the moment.I looked out over the landscape, the horizon stretching ahead, seagulls circling above — and my heart skipped a beat.

Gently, I slid the first Hungarian flag under the saddle, where it will continue to "ride" who knows how long, there on Waiheke Island.

The second flag is coming soon!

Darvasi Áron