The Secret North: Riding Cantabria with Caballos De Castilla
Snow-capped mountains, a wild coast, ancient forest and horses that walk toward you with their ears forward. Cantabria had me from the first day.
Words and photos by Alex du Toit
I arrive in Ruente, park my car next to my quaint little hotel overlooking the bubbling town river and narrow stone bridge. Not knowing what to expect, I feel as though I have stepped into a postcard. I see Constancia pull up, she bounds out of her car and immediately embraces me with a warm hug and a huge smile. Any awkwardness I had imagined while practising my basic Spanish on the journey, hoping to not sound like a complete idiot, vanishes instantly.
I feel as though I am being greeted by an old friend.
We head out to the stables to meet Carlota and the horses. Constancia and Carlota Del Álamo, mother and daughter, took over the Caballos De Castilla operation four years ago and have recently renovated an old cow shed to house their 20 horses. It is more than a shed. It is a big, beautiful barn that they have meticulously restored and redesigned. The stables are immaculate. Carlota greets me with the same infectious energy and generous spirit as her mother. I already know that the next four days with these women are going to be good.
Horse by horse we go through the barn, gorgeous big Spanish breeds, averaging 16hh, healthy, shiny-coated and every one of them good-natured. It is quite a feat to walk into any stable and find every horse with ears forward, taking a step toward you to sniff an outstretched hand.
This becomes the underlying theme of the days ahead, as you realise it is the care and schooling put into each horse by these women and their team that makes it so.
The rest of the riders arrive, just two more, making us a small but lively group. Aperitivos are had, dinner at 9pm (Spain, after all) and a few bottles of wine. The hospitality kicks in effortlessly and the conversation flows.
The first day we ride out, I have been matched with my favourite kind of horse. Laurel is Hispano-Árabe, long legs, forward-moving, the lightest mouth, curious and bright-eyed. Beautiful traditional saddles make for very comfortable sheepskin support, and the bridles make a statement with their long fringed browbands. We ride through the stone village of Ruente, through the neighbouring farmlands and up into the mountains of Cantabria.
It is breathtaking, with views to the coast of Santander, flanked by snow-capped mountains.
As it is March, we are surrounded by bursts of yellow Cambroñales, where we discover the local Hispano-Bretón horses hiding in small herds. Big, stocky draught horses with epic hair game and oh, the foals, with their chunky little chests that look like they just got back from a gym session. I am fairly certain I could fit one on my back seat to take home. The day winds down with a surprise picnic, checkered tablecloths, red wine and platefuls of a delicious stew, followed by local cheese and a flan. I always think my breeches will be looser after these trips, but that is not going to happen this time. On our way back to the stables we ride through the local nature reserve, humming with the sound of the river and spring beginning to crack through. The perfect first day.
The next morning the weather moves in and plans for the day ahead begin. Horseboxes are hitched, tack packed and horses loaded, and we wind our way through the mountains toward the blue skies peeking out around Picos de Europa, a biosphere and UNESCO World Heritage Site of striking, sheer peaks. We park, offload and mount up. The horses are bright-eyed and fizzing with anticipation but beautifully behaved as we head off through the village, past a welcoming committee of extremely enthusiastic donkeys and miniature horses who trot over for a nosy sniff.
The tarmac disappears quickly and the mountain path opens up ahead, winding and steep and completely worth it. The horses make light of the steep climbs. At the top, endless views to the ocean, the scent of crisp forest air and the occasional cheeky herd of sheep or free-roaming horses.
No humans, just the blissful sound of bells.
We pass an abandoned church and wind through ancient forest until the peaks of Picos de Europa stand tall in front of us. I make a mental note to come back in summer.
What I did not know before arriving is that the Picos de Europa are intimately connected to the Camino de Santiago, acting as a dramatic backdrop to the Camino del Norte, with pilgrims using routes like the Camino Lebaniego and Camino Vadiniense to traverse these mountains.
Riding through it, that history is palpable.
The terrain demands a steadier pace, which suits us perfectly. Lunch is warm bread, meats, soup and fresh calamari, washed down with a bottle of rich red wine.
We box the horses and spend the night in Santander, on the north coast. The city is largely undiscovered.
No tourist buses, kitschy souvenir shops or flags to follow, just big sweeping boulevards and a pristine riverfront flanked by museums and castles.
The night starts with vermouth at a chic vintage bar, nothing but Spanish locals dressed to impress. I love the elegant beards, red lips and stylish jackets, they do it so well. Amina, Fernando and I sample the dry, delicious cavas of the region before heading on to find Constancia and Carlota for more mouth-watering food. In Cantabria they know how to do seafood: delicate anchovies on sweet toasts and perfectly grilled shrimp are my favourites. The night is filled with tales of horses, clinking glasses and belly-deep laughs.
Our final outing begins on a Wes Anderson-esque ferry to the other side of the peninsula, where we find Carlota and Constancia tacking up the horses for our ride on the beach. I expect a couple of hours of a gentle hack. What awaits is a beach ride of dreams. As it is still spring there are few people, and we are spoiled by open sand and big skies. The sun has come out and we are giddy. Some cheeky little canters, broken up with a pause as Fernando runs into the beach bar to grab us cold beers and gildas.
Laurel is prancing with a glint in his eye and Carlota tells me to just go for it to the end of the beach.
He lifts his nose and we are off, the biggest smile cracking open my face as the cool sea air hits us.
Leaving the beach we climb along the cliff face with waves crashing below and seagulls calling above. I have clipped my speaker to my saddle and we are all singing along to my cheesy playlist, already planning the next adventure together. The ride ends with a gallop through the vineyards and a long lunch of local dishes at a wine farm.
We say goodbye to the horses and give Carlota and Constancia a final squeeze, not wanting our time together to end.
This is what this kind of travel is about for me.
Seeing almost untouched parts of the world from the saddle, with people you may not have otherwise met, feeling as though you have found a magic kinship, a reason to stay in touch and do it all again.
Contact Carlota and Constancia to find out more about their rides in Cantabria and throughout Spain and if a few days in the mountains left you wanting more, they also run the Camino de Santiago, wine tasting in Burgos and Doñana National Park.
