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Rapa
Two wild horses wandering freely around the substation building at the San Andrés de Teixido wind farm.
"Have you seen the series?"
"What I liked most is the way they treat personal relationships. They got that right. But it wasn't that eye-catching ... they could have done more with it... there are more well-known roundups. But, from what people who come to see it say, this one is more... I don't know how to put it... authentic? Maybe that's the word."
Jorge Bellón's face lights up.
"In the village we all lend a hand, so the tradition doesn't die out. It's like one of the last connections to a world that is disappearing... young people just want to be glued to their screens..."
"This way of life is dying out. When we go, no one will come to the mountains anymore, no one will look after them, no one will keep them in the proper condition... There is a lot of talk about fires these days... nothing would burn here even if it didn't rain for days.
Left, a wild horse on the moors of the Sierra da Capelada between the towns of San Andrés de Teixido and Cariño. Right, wind turbines at the San Andrés de Teixido wind farm in the province of La Coruña.
It is a summer day, but the clouds that course over the cliffs from the sea have settled in the mountains and enveloped everything. The 150 wind turbines of the A Capelada and San Andrés de Teixido wind farms, in the province of La Coruña, loom hazily out of what looks like an ocean of cotton wool. The grass, cut to the millimetre with the precision of a football pitch, is growing wet. Jose Antonio Bouza leans back against his car. It is on one of the dirt roads built to service the 664 hectares of these two Endesa wind farms. He is carefully watching a herd of horses grazing nearby as they move in slow motion over a small hill.
A group of wild horses belonging to Jose Antonio grazes the 664 hectares of the Sierra da Capelada that are the site of our San Andres de Teixido and A Capelada wind farms.
"200 of the 500 horses in this area are his... [there is a pause to let us take this in]. He knows them all by name, and always knows exactly where they are."
"There's no merit in that. You just have to want to do it and come to the mountains. It's beautiful, but it's a hard life. You spend your life here, with the animals, with endless worries, and you end up with not very much in your pocket."
"You couldn't do anything else... you were born riding a horse."
José Antonio is with Jorge Bellón. Jorge's words spring from him almost without thinking. He runs a craft shop in the village of San Andrés de Teixido, in the municipality of Cedeira. The village now has only 30 residents. San Andrés is more than just a small village nestled in the middle of a 613-metre wall towering over the Atlantic. It is a place of pilgrimage and worship. Its chapel receives thousands of visitors every year who come for the tradition of seeing it while they are alive rather than once they are dead.
Farmers from Cariño and San Andrés de Teixido round up the wild horses to deworm and clip them in a traditional process known as the Rapa.
Left, a group of wild horses gallops through the Sierra da Capelada with the Ortigueira estuary in the background. Right, a wild horse marks his territory inside an enclosure where he will be dewormed along with the rest of his herd.
Legend has it that the ship in which Saint Andrew (San Andrés) was travelling ran aground at the foot of the tallest cliffs in continental Europe. It could not cope with one of the frequent storms that lash this jagged coast and found itself with its keel facing the sun. According to the myth, the hull of the ship was petrified and now forms the largest of the two Islas Gabeiras, the two small islets you can glimpse from the last houses of this unique town.
When the Saint realised that he could not continue his journey and that this remote place was going to be his final destination, he complained to God for not having given him a church as stunning as that of Santiago's spectacular cathedral. He complained no one would visit him in such a secluded place. God told him not to worry: he would order that anyone who did not visit when they were alive would have to visit when they were dead. "If you are dead, you have to come three times," Jorge says.
Left, a group of wild horses wait in a pen to be dewormed and clipped. Right, a group of farmers clipping and deworming a horse in a pen.
The intense rain brought in by the north-east wind has become a fine drizzle that is starting to soak in. We get in the car and set off. The track zigzags through the mountains and changes level like a roller coaster until we reach the top of a small slope. The electricity substation responsible for transmitting the energy generated by the two wind farms to the grid is at the bottom. The spacious construction includes a main area for storing the materials used in maintaining the wind turbines. The offices are on the top floor. Miguel Freire is waiting for us there in the meeting room.
Miguel is a big man with a slow and reflective way of speaking. When he talks, you get the impression he could solve any problem or, if not, he could at least put it into context. He was born in Mañón, less than an hour from the substation, from where he coordinates the operation and maintenance of San Andrés and A Capelada.
Horsehair after clipping. This hair used to be reused in making mattresses and cushions and for other types of fillings, but it is no longer used.
"The way I understand it, everyone who uses this space is part of a community, where the important thing is to help each other. We always have people working in the area. If we notice something strange about an animal, something that catches our attention, we warn the farmers. And they do the same if they see one of our machines isn't working properly."
"It's a win-win situation,"
José Antonio replies. The atmosphere is relaxed, and the conversation flows easily.
"I think using the roads built for the wind farms makes your life easier..."
"Without these roads, being a farmer here would be impossible. To give you an idea, in the past you could have a profitable farm with 50 horses. We used everything from the horses - their meat, their hair for mattresses and pillows. But today all we have is the meat. With fewer than 200 horses it would be impossible to justify the time we put in from the money they generate. If we didn't have the roads, if we had to do everything on foot... Some people have several jobs. They look after animals and have another profession, but that... [he makes a slight gesture of disapproval, as if he cannot see how this is going to work].
Left, two wild horses grazing calmly among the wind turbines of the San Andrés de Teixido wind farm in the Sierra da Capelada after being dewormed and clipped. Right, the roads built for maintenance and logistics for the wind turbines of the San Andrés de Teixido and A Capelada wind farms are used by local farmers to manage their horses.
And without intending to, they move on to the big issue of the day: the rapa das bestas (the clipping of the horses). At the beginning of summer, the farmers set a day to take advantage of the arrival of warm weather and gradually round up all the horses that graze freely so they can clip their manes and deworm them. These days produce some impressive sights. Everyone works together, supported by townspeople, like Jorge Bellón, and farmers from other areas. It has become more than just a tourist attraction; it is part of their identity.
We leave the substation. The wind turbines are turning among the clouds. The horses are grouped around.
The town of San Andrés de Teixido.
Jose Antonio Bouza
Farmer of A Capelada.
Jorge Bellón
Resident of San Andrés de Teixido.
Miguel Freire
Wind farm manager for Enel Green Power Spain in San Andrés de Teixido and A Capelada.
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