My travels have taken me many times around the globe with horses, but Drummeen Lodge near Londonderry in Northern Ireland is a stable I have returned to many times in the last 15 years since my first unforgettable visit there.

I started travelling up to the UK and Ireland in 1997. I was a greenhorn 22 year old kiwi girl. I had met a guy from Northern Ireland in New Zealand a year or so earlier who had told me that he would give me a job if I was ever over that side of the world. His name was Stewart Crawford and I went on to groom for him at the World Equestrian Games in Rome. It was through Stewart I met a very special horseman in Samuel Moore.

Sam Moore was an Irish eventing rider who called Drummeen Lodge his home. We first met in May of 1997 when I travelled in his lorry with my steeds to the Punchestown 3 day event. I would like to say it was love at first sight - well it was for me - not sure that is was for Sam! But something about his lovely eyes, that cheeky grin, and his way with horses made me instantly know he was someone special... He placed 2nd I think at Punchestown CCI 2* and we met again a few weeks later at Blarney Castle 3day where his lorry was my home for the week. I was even invited to stay a week at Drummeen Lodge - I remember painting fences up there, hacking out horses, helping with the stables. Sam left no stone unturned with his riding and horse-care. I have never in my travels seen boxes so clean or horses so well prepared. If you went for a hack, Sam would say exactly how long you were to be out for, how many minutes trotting and cantering would be involved, attention to detail was his forte! I thought Sam was just so fantastic and I enjoyed tremendously every second I spent in his company.

But in August that year my world came crashing down... I was in Belgium grooming at a 3Day and Sam was at Blenheim Palace in England doing his first CCI3*. I spent all day wondering how my friend was getting on, hoping like hell he'd had a clear round. I overheard Blyth Tait in the stable yard saying something to his groom in muted tones about an Irish rider at Blenheim. I froze in my tracks, not meaning to eavesdrop but I asked him to repeat what he had said. "An Irish rider was killed today at Blenheim". I couldn't believe it. With trembling voice I asked for the rider's name. "Samuel Moore" was Blyth's reply... Time seemed to stand still. I don't know if I screamed, but I know I was as white as a sheet with tears starting to stream from my eyes. Blyth took me to the NZ tack room and sat me down whilst getting my boss Sandy Fryatt to come and comfort me.

Those next few days were some of the saddest of my life. To watch the show jumping the following day with the Irish flag at half-mast was heart breaking. Driving back thru the UK with all the tributes and flowers to Princess Dianna on the roadsides - she was buried that same weekend - I simply couldn't stop crying. Sam was killed in a rotational fall at a corner fence through an owl hole. He was ¾ of the way around the track and clear till that point.

I flew to Northern Ireland for the funeral that week. Riders from all over Ireland were there to pay their respects - the headlines in the local papers said goodbye to Samuel Moore - A Gentleman. That said it all. I remember embracing his brother Stephen at the graveside there in the Coleraine Cemetery. It was so hard to say any words of comfort. We all grieved.

The day after the funeral I was with Sam's brother Stephen at Drummeen Lodge - so weird to be there without Sam's smiling face. The goodbye card I had left him a few months earlier was still sitting on the kitchen bench. We sat together and watched the European Eventing Championships on the TV. We cringed watching all the bad falls, some riders carried off in ambulances, others simply brushing themselves of and walking on home. Life seemed so unfair, taking one but leaving others.

Finally it was time to leave Drummeen Lodge and head back to New Zealand - my first 6 month expedition to the other side of the world had ended in the worst possible way with the loss of a very dear friend and a great man that I will never forget. That day I left a piece of my heart at Drummeen Lodge - I thought I would never be back to collect it...

A year or two later I was back in Northern Ireland and to my delight I found out that Stephen, Sam's brother had taken over the reins at Drummeen Lodge. As I drove up the grassy lane I was delighted to see the same green lorry parked in the yard, horse's heads out over their doors. My bedroom in the house still had the same wrought iron frames and white bedspread. Everything was as Sam had left it, but now I enjoyed the place with Stephen instead. Stephen was a totally different character to Sam, a bit devious (in a good way!), and more than a bit hilarious, and he loved to have fun.

Over the next ten years or so I visited Drummeen on a few occasions to catch up with Stephen. A good event rider in his own right - he was long-listed for the Irish team for the Olympics before breaking his leg from being kicked in the collecting ring at a show. Each time visited there would be BBQ's and parties - the same faces from neighbouring villages appearing over and over again and becoming good friends of mine too.

In 2008 after I was well ensconced in the teachings of Academic Horse training I met up with Stephen once more. He had a very nappy horse called Lupo - and I set about over a couple of days showing him simple retraining techniques that would reform Lupo immediately. Stephen couldn't believe how simple it was to retrain the horse's turn signal and instantly stop him napping. I will never forget day two of training when I sent both horse and rider up the Gorton Road where he ALWAYS napped and had issues. The smile on Stephen's face as they came trotting back down the road was priceless.

Stephen was so excited about learning about Learning Theory - the science behind horse training. He said to me he had been thinking of giving up teaching, but learning the techniques I taught him had given him a refreshingly new view on riding, and he was excited about a new future ahead.

Unfortunately a week later whilst I was in Dublin I had a text from Stephen to say that he had had a fall at a horse trial off another horse and had busted his collarbone. I tried unsuccessfully to get him to join us in Dublin for the Royal Dublin Horse Show; he said he was in too much pain. I remember thinking "Harden up mate - we have all broken our collarbones and it's not stopped us at a party!"

A week later I was teaching in England when I got a distraught phone call from Chris Eakin - a good friend of Stephen's. He said that Stephen had collapsed and had been rushed to hospital - he was on life support and things didn't look good. I remember telling Chris not to worry, and there was no chance that both of these lovely brothers would die on us - it was just impossible, Stephen would pull through for sure.

Later that day I was flying to Germany to help an Olympic rider with some difficult horses. I got a phone call from Joanne Jardin, an Irish rider I had worked for - she confirmed to me that Stephen was in hospital and it wasn't looking good. When I landed in Cologne, Joanne rang me back with the terrible news that Steven had passed away. He had acquired septicaemia or something similar due to a punctured lung that wasn't diagnosed in his fall. 11 years after being devastated by the loss of Samuel, the same feeling of grief washed over me. I once again rang my mum back in New Zealand - I needed a familiar shoulder to cry on...

I headed back once more to Drummeen, this time not to be greeted by Stephen, but to embrace all his friends as we had our own special wake for him. The wine and cigarettes flowed, as did the tears and laughter, celebrating the life of a man we all loved so very much. Sitting on the bench was a photo of Steven and me, taken just a week or so before he died. The next day I was back at the Coleraine cemetery - staring up at the grey Northern Irish sky - the same sky I had stared into 11 years earlier when we buried Sam. Now the two brothers lie side by side. Two of my favourite men in this world taken by the sport they both adored so much.

After the funeral we continued to gather at Drummeen Lodge - all of us thinking this may well be the end of the road for us all enjoying the place we had been gathering at for social events, love and laughter for many years. The fear of losing Drummeen which was likely to be sold off by the family was clear to see on all our faces. Being able to come to Drummeen meant we could keep the memories of Sam and Stephen alive - a bit of a shrine to their lives. But it seemed an impossible dream that we could keep coming back. 11 years after first leaving down that long grassy lane, I left another piece of my heart behind - and once again feared that I wouldn't be back for it.

It's now four years after Stephen was taken from us, and to my delight Chris Eakin has been able to purchase the property. Chris is running a livery and breaking in business from there and it's comforting to go back on all of my trips up to the UK. I teach regularly from the yard and enjoy the fantastic people that seem to migrate to the house. There's Damien from the south of Ireland - a great guy who is always around to lend a hand. And of course the Slater family who seem to always live there too - including Vicky who came to work for me for 5 months or so last year. She was my second working student from Drummeen following on from Sarah Kyle the year before. The same parties and BBQ's seem too happen, and I still sleep on the lovely wrought Iron bed in "my" room. Photos of Sam and Stephen are still in the newly decorated kitchen and their stable cards from international horse trials still hang in the tack room where they have always been.

Now after 15 years of visiting Drummeen I leave a piece of my heart there each time I leave down that long grassy lane- but I know now I will return to rekindle the friendships and love I have for the tenants both present and past. Part of my heart will always lie in that small sleepy part of Northern Ireland and the memories of the men who have shared it with me will never be forgotten.

(the photos below show Sam at a trot up and XC, Stephen XC and with his dog Saddie and then with me the week before he died, and the last two shots are of Chris and some of his wonderful show horses)