Horseback accross sierra crestallina Casares
Trip Start
Jun 02, 2008
1
11
48
Trip End
May 01, 2010
Gaucin,
Andalusia,
Spain and Canary Islands
Thursday, June 19, 2008
We were setting off for Sierra Cristallina - the name given to the mountainous area surrounding Casares. We were planning to take the horses to the mirador at the top which on a clear day affords spectacular views of Casares village, the wind farm at Manilva, the Med, Gibraltar and Africa . It was 7pm but the temperature still soared around 29 degrees.
However first I had to circumnavigate my mount. I levered my toe into the stirrup, and with a couple of hopeful bounces landed heavily in the saddle . Violetta didn't even flinch...Antonio watching me quietly. We set off along the track down towards Cesares and its characteristic moorish cliff hugging buildings. Antonio leading the way. He had an unassuming gentle manner - It was clear he loved his animals and had spent several months in Madrid studying horse psychology
me and Antonio at stables
. He owned a motley collection of rescue dogs. He also, as it became apparent had a playful sense of humor.To get to Cristallina meant either taking the road around or going direct through the centre of the village . We chose the later - descending first before climbing steeply through the maze of cobbled lanes that makes this beautiful pueblo Bianco. Casares is famous as the birthplace of the father of Andalusian nationalism, Blas Infante Perez de Vargas, executed without trial by Franco's forces when they took over Seville at the beginning of the Spanish civil war. We passed a memorial devoted to the conflict.
As we rode through the village, old women jumped nervously, small children excitedly pointed at us and men paused for a moment from their beers to watch the horse clatter past. Violetta picked her way carefully accross teh cobbles and up through the narrow streets. As we rode out and up the mountain pass, the horses seemed to sense something. Violetta became uneasy. She seemed spooked by the dense flora. the huge rock faces surrounding us...and frequently she stopped so I had to coach her on. It took us nearly two hours to reach the top. But the magical views, to Gibraltar beyond were worth the effort. As we descended the temperature dropped and we broke into a fast gallop. Antonio, seated firmly.. I on the other hand was wrestling with a western saddle, the stirrups too long so that I had to cling on to stop my feet falling out
Heading out
. It was not glamorous and I was glad he didn't look back.At about 11.30pm we rode back through the village, which was by now full of people. The streets come alive at night as the temperatures cool...little children play in the street and Spaniards chat on every corner.. It was gone Midnight by the time the ride ended and exhausted and aching I climbed into bed ...
A few days later I returned for a second ride. This was meant to be just an hour but in Spanish style where time is just an inconvenience - it turned into four. Antonio had changed the saddle for a European one and I wasn't sure what he'd done to her feed but Violetta seemed very frisky. We set out this time circumnavigating the back of Casares. Picking up a friend of Antonios on the way with a beautiful Palomino stallion and a curious red hat . We rode for four hours in the burning sun, along tracks, jumping streams and occasionally galloping in the cooler areas Antinio disappearing into clouds of dust , Violetta responding and easing up or pushing forward as I asked her.
Towards 2pm we parked up at a restaurant, in a role reversal the men tendering the horses as I ordered the beers and some delicious home made quiche which we shared. English Tourists photographed us and I felt like i was in a Western movie - we just needed a good bar brawl to complete the picture...
Returning, we showered down the horses, Violetta playfully sucking at the hosepipe, shared a couple of shandys and then Antonio took me home. I was on a high for the rest of the day. Spain beating Germany was just the perfect end to a perfect day........as we watched the fireworks set off from the top of Casares I couldn't imagine many better places than his...
