Only sixteen people at time can enter the cave, and only a few tours a day are possible, to protect the ancient paintings from damage from changing moisture patterns. I felt very lucky to be one of the few to see them.
As we walked single file through the winding passages of the cave, we saw amazing rock formations; stalactites and stalagmites, and some which looked like jellyfish. It was damp underfoot, and the multiple iron bar gates and metal doors took away somewhat from the ambience, as did the pot lights by our feet. We finally arrived at our destination, and hunkered down along a cordon, and our guide turned on his puny LED flashlight. In the dim light, my first impression was a smear of red covering a huge expanse of cave wall. Gradually, I could pick out wonderful images of horses, the figures overlapping, giving an impression of movement. Some stood out more, especially the one with black and purple highlights, depicted with striped legs, (an ancient characteristic which is retained in some modern species, Highland Ponies for one, and my favourite horse in the world, Chester, for another)--but of course, these were prey animals, for eating, not for riding. There was also a very elegant reindeer, with swooping antlers. It was pretty wonderful to be in the presence of humanity that old, even though we could only see one gallery--access was too difficult for the general public for the other galleries, where there were human figures, whales, and one gallery full of thousands of incised carvings of horses.
The interpretive centre was one of the best I´ve seen for anything. Here, I learned the tragic story of the cave's name. Back in the sixties, a group of young climbers was exploring the area, and came upon an opening at the top of the cliff. They lowered themselves down several hundred feet into a large cavern. At this point, one of the climbers' light went out. When he re-lit it, he saw a large painting of a horse's head, in black. One would have thought it was made yesterday, both for its clarity and modern style. This young man was Tito (Celestino) Bustillo. By a fluke, he discovered something which reflects the timelessness of the human experience. His discovery connects us through thousands of years of time, but within only a few days of so doing, he himself moved beyond time. Three weeks after the initial discovery, and months before it became public, Tito died in a climbing accident, the spark of his short life, the same in essence as the spark of those ancient lives, gone out. Although it is unusual to name one of these wonders after a person, the cave with its amazing wealth of human heritage remains Tito Bustillo.
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