Borriquitos means little donkeys, and whoever named this shelter presumably saw something long-eared and four-legged in the red paint, though Levantine painters drew deer and goats far more often than donkeys. The name is a reminder that these places were named by farmers, long before they were studied by archaeologists, and that what a shepherd sees on a wall may not be what a professor sees. The shelter is near Alacón, in the Martín valley in Teruel, and belongs to the Parque Cultural del Río Martín.
The river Martín runs north through a landscape of low limestone gorges, almond groves and dry hills, and the villages along it include Alacón, Oliete and Albalate del Arzobispo, which belonged to the archbishops of Zaragoza, as its name still says. The roads here are good, quiet and winding, and make for a pleasant day of unhurried riding. April and October are the best months, as summers are hot and winters cold and sometimes foggy in the valleys.
Andorra, twenty-four kilometres away, is the main town of the district and the place for fuel and supplies. It grew with coal mining and the power station, and it is not pretty, but it is useful and friendly. Alacón, a small village of four hundred people, has a bar and is a good place to ask about the paintings.
Visiting the shelter may require a guide, and it is wise to ask at the village or the park office first. Keep to the track, do not touch the paintings, and bring water, since the walk can be dry.
There is something fitting about a shelter named by farmers. Nobody who first saw these walls in the nineteenth or early twentieth century had a theory about Levantine art, but they had eyes, and they passed what they saw on to the next shepherd, until it reached someone with a notebook. Most of Spain's rock art came to light that way, through ordinary people noticing, which is a good reason to be kind to the next person you meet in a village bar who says that they know of a cave.