Can it really be Friday?

We were saddled and away from our guesthouse shortly after 9:30 and made our way across the wide valley of the Corneja River. Lots of storks feeding in the fields. Maria Elena said this was the only land in Gredos that was suitable for farming. 

We had a couple of really long trots on the straight, sandy roads, the horses more relaxed and containable than they had been earlier in the week. During a short canter, I was right behind Maria Elena, which was nice since hers was the only horse mine wasn’t interested in passing.

Aperitivo was in a pleasant clearing on the side of a dirt road. The table was the prettiest yet.

Things started to get really interesting after that. We climbed up into the foothills of the mountains. Some of the towns we went through were the usual deserted not-that-attractive type but others were either relatively populated or, in one case, built around a very old mill.












 After some wending through narrow paths with bushes on each side and mud under the horses’ feet, we crossed a river and came to another mill – with the lunch table laid out in an open space. And then there was the catering truck…..

After a lunch of salad, thick creamy gazpacho and Spanish omelet, and the usual two wines, we climbed back on and headed straight up, almost. The horses twisted back and forth among the boulders on one of the narrowest trails I have ever seen, with bushes included stickers on either side. At some points there were sharp drop offs on the right as well. They were really working hard.

Then we emerged and were really in the mountains. No trees, though lots of shrubbery, and beautiful views across the valleys to the slopes on the other side. It was very green I the sunshine, even though still somewhat rocky. It looked and sounded a lot like Switzerland, right down to the chiming of the cowbells and the – I am not making this up – song of the cuckoo bird.



At one point, as we climbed, we could look back through the pass and see the flat land we had come to that morning.

Then we got to the very top. Below us was a long fertile-looking valley and behind it was a line of foothills – one foothill, really – whose lip paralleled the valley. And behind THAT were the snowy peaks of the highest mountains.

We picked our way down the other side, very slowly. The horses were stabled in a pasture at the foot of the slope and we were transported to a simple local hotel by car. Simple meal, too.