A different world awaited us in the morning, filled with
sunshine. After breakfast, we hopped into several vehicles to meet up with the
horses – they had left already – south of here. The trip included crossing a
river on a tinny little ferry that buzzed back and forth; it fit all three
vehicles and a fourth with no problem.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoaK0YGRgDK_VE_0ELH7AcTtKElJQS2wwIaqR_6AeGEpjb32MAA_3026nJs366PVzZssOikfAr1_szm9OI8r-4Opxcs182pshWTfA65J-6nTP4AEy9VvM1OCFXur5AG3-_q666zVGduZd/s400/20160405_103553.jpg)
We met the horses at the Hacienda de Torquemada, which is partly owned by Alfonso and puts on weddings and the like in its beautiful chapel and garden. Maria Elena said the hacienda style – white walls, tile roofs, enclosed courtyard entry, long low house with a garden behind – that is so popular in Mexico and the American Southwest actually came from Andalusia. We took a group shot here too.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQ7uXCqg-P1SbyeThEADWmagqaCJzcG2GL0zQ6ZERwS4IWPb67fWG2e4W8ATWveKNQKZMIeh8crWxFjU6JdsHkSsHUuJrrm52hAUwQKMiHB3T5Mh7kL5GXsifDZBdDH4l91qIhTmF8w0w/s320/torrequemada.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJaLmrNLG4eF0S_99hYbgicoj_N6h4b2AlRM-WwCrS1QeH6yPyuHsK2ygT5b0rRPQZrahlb_lID7lEAx-1nIHy0nMngzcRhhKF0e2iTPAvj4guoYiFbixDwWwbvpAp3a9NupEWbSea7avk/s320/IMG_7618.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoaK0YGRgDK_VE_0ELH7AcTtKElJQS2wwIaqR_6AeGEpjb32MAA_3026nJs366PVzZssOikfAr1_szm9OI8r-4Opxcs182pshWTfA65J-6nTP4AEy9VvM1OCFXur5AG3-_q666zVGduZd/s400/20160405_103553.jpg)
We met the horses at the Hacienda de Torquemada, which is partly owned by Alfonso and puts on weddings and the like in its beautiful chapel and garden. Maria Elena said the hacienda style – white walls, tile roofs, enclosed courtyard entry, long low house with a garden behind – that is so popular in Mexico and the American Southwest actually came from Andalusia. We took a group shot here too.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQ7uXCqg-P1SbyeThEADWmagqaCJzcG2GL0zQ6ZERwS4IWPb67fWG2e4W8ATWveKNQKZMIeh8crWxFjU6JdsHkSsHUuJrrm52hAUwQKMiHB3T5Mh7kL5GXsifDZBdDH4l91qIhTmF8w0w/s320/torrequemada.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJaLmrNLG4eF0S_99hYbgicoj_N6h4b2AlRM-WwCrS1QeH6yPyuHsK2ygT5b0rRPQZrahlb_lID7lEAx-1nIHy0nMngzcRhhKF0e2iTPAvj4guoYiFbixDwWwbvpAp3a9NupEWbSea7avk/s320/IMG_7618.jpg)
We headed off on the horses through the beginning of the park, this part of it occupied by lots of commercial olive estates and, in other sections, sunflower fields and wheat fields. The land was flatter than back around Sevilla and, with just a few traces of cumulus clouds, it almost felt like Big Sky country. We had lots of nice trots and canters. I am in love with my horse. He is extremely well trained, almost like a dressage horse, and is really obedient. Even when he wants to go faster than I do, he listens and obeys. Alfonso had told me at dinner the night before that he was part German warmblood and part Spanish-Arab-Andalusian. Hard to see how you could go wrong there. He’s also really pretty.
After a couple of hours it was, of course, time for aperitivo. We are talking 1:30pm. We went right through an olive orchard and turned into another hacienda – the farm, it turned out, that Maria-Elena had just bought her horse from. The owner was hugely into carriage driving and he and the young man who does his competitions showed us the beautiful matched pairs of white horses and the gleaming-clean carriages they pull. The harnesses looked like they had been cleaned with a toothbrush. They were going to drive in a festival in Sevilla on Sunday that some of us, not me because of my earlyish flight, said they would attend.
I hadn’t planned on having any alcohol, but we had an arrival crisis that pretty much undid everyone. We had ridden all the horses into a pen where halters were tied to the fence at intervals, waiting for us. We indeed put the halters on them, when all of a sudden Maria Elena’s horse went nuts and pulled back hard against the upper rail of the fence – so hard he pulled the rail off. So there he was and the unhappy horse who’d been next to him, tied up to this dangling fence rail that was maybe 15 feet long, thrashing around in the pen. Meanwhile, some of the other horses, including mine, slipped their ties and started dashing around as well. It could have ended really badly, but some of the guys managed to catch Maria Elena’s horse and get him untied from the rail. Then we caught the others – not hard, since they were in a pen – and tied them all up again, more securely. Maria Elena’s miscreant – this was his first time on the trail – went into a stall in the barn and we headed for the bottle of local sherry and some healthy snacks.
Then it was off and into the forest for the most beautiful part of the trip so far. It was like a French forest: Wild but maintained. Long loamy galloping paths under the parasol pine trees (We were riding through a national park, 120,000 hectares around, through most of the trip.). We rode through some bushes that smelled strongly like rosemary and crossed some small streams, including one into which Marie’s horse decided to take a nice wet roll.
Then we turned around a corner and there was the lunch table,
beautifully set up by Jose Maria, Alfonso’s trusty assistant, with a white
table cloth, two vases of flowers and 12
white chair covers. In the middle of a broad field with purple and red
wildflowers, in the shelter of a parasol pine.
He does this with an incredible support vehicle/trailer arrangement that nourishes people and horses alike.The camping trailer has shelves for everything and some kind of heating element that folds out, pulled by Alfonso’s 4 by 4. You can also wash your hands and get your hay here.
We tied the horses to a tether line, which got exciting again when Patrick’s horse somehow got his saddle caught in the line and started jumping around. Eventually they got the saddle off and all was well.
He does this with an incredible support vehicle/trailer arrangement that nourishes people and horses alike.The camping trailer has shelves for everything and some kind of heating element that folds out, pulled by Alfonso’s 4 by 4. You can also wash your hands and get your hay here.
We tied the horses to a tether line, which got exciting again when Patrick’s horse somehow got his saddle caught in the line and started jumping around. Eventually they got the saddle off and all was well.
So we ate a lovely tomato and fish salad as the birds sang,
sipping our red or white wine, then some kind of stewed meat with yummy French
fries. Then three desserts: fresh pineapple, little iced cakes and then black
chocolate. All this served by Jose Maria, who alternated between catching crazy
horses and, with a an apron tied around his middle, clearing plates and
serving courses.
Alfonso left us early, saying he had to get to
Sevilla for his daughter’s christening. `My wife has called me, like, 200
times,’ he said. We left Jose Maria and his son, Alberto, to clean up and,
under the leadership of Maria Elena, rolled out for the one-hour ride to the
hotel. More trots and canters and her horse, which had run away a few times
during canters in the morning, behaved much better.
The hotel was a luxurious establishment with a swimming pool
and gardens, and very functional wifi.
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