Face to face with a Red Kite

Landscape of Valencia del Mombuey, a small border town with Portugal.

I leave Madrid on the A5 heading towards Extremadura. I’m in a rental car, though I would have loved to drive my motorcycle; the landscapes in this area are stunning. However, this time I’m not here for pleasure, but for work, although the entire experience turned up to be a great pleasure.

The purpose of my trip is to record an episode of the Conexión a Tierra videopodcast, in this case about the conservation of the Red Kite. I drive towards Badajoz and take the exit indicated by my GPS, towards Valencia del Mombuey, a small border town with Portugal that welcomes me with its slow pace and imposing silence. I’m not used to so much calm, and my eyes wander over fields, drawn by a horizon that calls for introspection.

I obediently follow my GPS, afraid of getting lost. At a nondescript point on the road, I turn onto a path, and I see someone waiting for me. Thank goodness, it’s Alfonso Godino, technical coordinator at AMUS, who gestures for me to follow him. We drive through several estates, opening and closing gates, until we finally stop. ‘We’re here’.

I turn off the engine, and I’m surprised at the absolute silence, broken only by the sounds of nature: the wind swaying the branches, small animals scurrying through the underbrush. I look around and there is no sign of civilisation. We are in an area unknown to me, in the middle of nowhere, or perhaps at the heart of everything. 

A Red Kite swoops down onto the carcass of a dead sheep at the feeding site run by the AMUS NGO in the town of Valencia del Mombuey.

A group of Red Kites perched on an old tree.

A group of Red Kites feeding on a dead sheep at the feeding site run by the AMUS NGO in the town of Valencia del Mombuey.

This is exactly the kind of setting where AMUS carries out its LIFE EUROKITE, in collaboration with Endesa. This initiative is dedicated to the recovery of the Red Kite, one of the most iconic birds in our ecosystem. What makes this project unique is its commitment to minimal human intervention, allowing nature to follow its course.

We walk a few metres until we reach a transport cage where an impressive yocung Red Kite, in the process of recovery, is waiting for us. It’s barely a month and a half old, but you wouldn’t be able to tell. Alfonso tells me the bird’s story. It’s calm, he says, so he’ll take it out without the usual cover. He begins to remove a small hood that blocks its sight – apparently, it helps keep them calm. With a careful gesture, he opens the door, gently takes the bird out, and for the first time in my life, I come face to face with a red kite. 

The Red Kite after the hood has been removed.

We look at each other. I am struck by its honey-coloured eyes, its shiny and clean feathers, its sharp talons and beak that seem straight out of another era. I realise it is an imposing animal, well-prepared for survival, even if that means sacrificing its prey. It seems to belong to a different world.

Alfonso has an unexpected proposal: would I like to hold it? In that moment, I think to myself, what am I doing, a city dweller holding a red kite? I never would have imagined this. There is no room for hesitation, and it’s hard to say no to Alfonso, especially knowing this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. With as much respect as nervousness, I agree. He explains how to do it right, making sure the bird feels safe. He jokes that if it escapes, we’d be facing a €12,000 fine. I’m not sure if he’s serious, but I can feel my tension growing.

He stretches his arms, and in that instant, my hands come into contact with the Red Kite. As soon as I touch the bird, I can feel through my hands that its heart is beating at full speed, much faster than mine. It’s then that I realise the bird is more nervous than I am. I am surprised by its lightness and complete motionless. Then, Alfonso explains the origin of the Spanish expression amilanarse (meaning 'to be intimidated,' from milano ('kite'): in an attempt to protect itself, the bird pretends to be dead by remaining still, thus avoiding a potential attack. To prove it, he asks me to bring my finger close to its beak. Trusting his experience, though with a trembling finger, I do so, and the kite does not move a muscle.

A young Red Kite that recovered thanks to the financial support received by the AMUS NGO.

After those magical minutes for me, it’s time to leave the bird in peace because we have to head to the village, Valencia del Mombuey, where Alfonso and his colleague Sofia are meeting with local children today to teach them about the importance of this species for future generations. ‘It’s crucial that children get to know the species and learn to value it, as numerous specimens are released in the area each year,’ Alfonso tells me. The children, undoubtedly bolder than I am (perhaps because no one’s mentioned the fine to them), eagerly touch and even hold the bird without any trembling.

The little ones are fascinated by the ‘backpack’ Alfonso shows them as he places it on the Red Kite. These are the innovative tracking systems implemented by the LIFE EUROKITE project in some specimens. They are GPS transmitters equipped with solar panels, which allow for real-time tracking of the birds' routes and transmit the data via satellite. Between 2020 and 2024, more than 700 specimens have been tagged, and over 3,000 of this species and other raptors are being tracked, providing key data for their conservation.

This experience has provided me with a unique understanding of the balance between human intervention and wildlife. It is passionate professionals, deeply committed to their work, who make all of this possible. Moreover, the LIFE EUROKITE project not only protects a key species but also reminds us that true sustainability involves coexisting with nature rather than mastering it. It’s a lesson I take back with me to the city, certain that conservation is a collective and ongoing effort.