Blog: Wellington 2026 - Welcome to the Jungle

-- Text and Photos © Astrid Appels - NO REPRODUCTION ALLOWED (no screenshots for social media!)

It's February and that means it's my annual retreat to Wellington, Florida, for some Vitamin D, socializing, and gauging the state of dressage in North America.

It was an early trek to Schiphol airport on Tuesday morning 3 February 2026 to beat rush hour traffic. After just a few hours of nervous sleeping with the travel jitters in my bones, I got up at 4.45h AM and made my way to Amsterdam in an easy drive, while listening to ridiculous banter on a Dutch morning radio show, which discussed the bleaching of eye brows like Lady Gaga did for the Grammys. 

The flight to Atlanta was smooth as silk and I split the 8-hour time reading Keri Lake's romantasy "Anathema" and catching up on sleep. I was a little concerned about immigration this year as I'm quite outspoken on my personal Instagram about the mad mango, his authoritarian regime, and SS squad in Minneapolis so I wondered if the police officers at customs would ask me to show my social media and sent me straight back home to Europe. Aller et retour. Fortunately there was no such check but I got grilled with so many questions about "the purpose of my visit", my connections to the people in Florida, my whereabouts, the content of my suitcases, and why I got one month off from my boss to spend time in Florida. The last time I felt so grilled was during a speed date, but then I did the questioning and felt much more comfortable. Welcome to the U.S.A. !

They let me in and I made a big sigh in relief. It was time to celebrate with champagne during my one-hour layover, because a fun month was about to start. The next flight to Palm Beach was a hop and a skip and at Hertz they gave me free choice in a car and was allowed to pick from a line-up of S.U.V's the size of a T-rex or brachiosaurus. I remained my modest self and went for the smallest model: a KIA Niro. At least this one I can park properly and doesn't guzzle petrol. Thank you ma'm. 

I arrived at my Floridian home away from home round 22h30 and after some intense double hugging and catching up I went to bed knackered at 11 PM because on Wednesday the first CDI in a row of three would begin with the horse inspection.  

I had a brilliant sleep and early start in the morning, doing some much more needed talking and updating on life as it is. Then I drove to the T-Mobile shop in the mall for an American SIMcard, went to Barns and Noble to find the sequal to the book I'm reading. They had to order it online and there was a 6-day weight. I panicked and told the lady," but miss, this is like an addiction. It's impossible for me to wait 6 days. I need this book tomorrow as I'm about to finish it. I can't go cold turkey for that long." So I ordered it through Amazon. Ugh.. Jef Bezos. I don't like giving him business...

Then it was off to the supermarket to stack up on protein. In September I experienced a moment of insanity (or sanity) because after a 6-year sabbatical from moving my body, I finally whipped myself back into action for some weight lifting in the gym. In five months time I accomplished some serious progress, which I don't want to annihilate here in the U.S.A by binging on food and immobility. So I stocked up on cottage cheese, Skyr, Gold Standard Whey protein, and rolled oats to have all my bases covered. 

At the Global Dressage Festival show grounds the horse inspection was kicking off at 14h00. With 48 pairs entered for the CDI from 5 - 8 February 2026 the jog only took an hour and a half and was over in a jiffy. There was little atmosphere to be detected in this conveyor belt moment in Wellington. No spectators, only the people that needed to be there. Some of the riders schooled their horses in the main stadium afterwards, where the seating area has now been covered by a tent. It may not be the prettiest improvement of the showgrounds, but it certainly is one very much appreciated by the audience to get shelter from either the sharp sun or rain. The weather can be rather extreme here in Florida.

After the jog I adhered to my good intentions, changed into a gym outfit and went to Crunch Fitness where my mind was blown away. At home I go to a small gym for middle aged people - average age between 40 and 70. Crunch fitness is in a huge indoor building six-time the size of the fitness at home and it offers work-out opportunities for the masses. It was so packed with people of all shapes, colours, ages and sizes. All stations, machines, free weights were so occupied that the Guns 'n Roses' song "Welcome to the Jungle" started playing in my mind. I was blown away and admit quite intimidated by the work-out culture when I scrambled for a bench to start lifting dumbbells. So many people looked buff, from normally toned to blown up with steroids - male and female. Oh wait, that's now called Testosterone Replacement Therapy, for which advertisement was flashing on the 20 television screens near the cardio area. A natural physique is no longer on the menu? Either way, I was so pleased that I had my first work-out in the USA down my belt that I went for dinner with a growling stomach. A cuban meat platter fulfilled my needs. 

At home I quickly prepped some photos for this article and then went to bed. The Call of duty is at 8 AM with the Prix St Georges.. and it's going to rain tomorrow. Olé. 

-- by Astrid Appels