The Philosophical Shepherd No. 1

Walking, Trust, and Thinking About the Future

Walking together is one of the most natural ways humans build trust.

Side by side, there is no podium and no audience. The pace is shared. Silence is allowed. Conversation appears when it is ready — and just as easily drifts away again.

Here in the mountains, many of our walks unfold this way. People arrive expecting scenery and movement, and often leave having spoken about things they did not plan to discuss at all: life, work, children, uncertainty, hope, and the future.

The goats help.

They are calm, responsive herd animals, and their presence establishes a shared rhythm. People slow down without being told to. Groups settle naturally into cohesion. Even children — especially children — relax into the moment. Many of our guests bring their grandchildren on these walks specifically to offer them time without screens, pressure, or constant instruction.

It is in this spirit that we are beginning an occasional series of reflections called

The Philosophical Shepherd.

These are not lessons.

They are not arguments.

They are simply thoughts that arise while walking.

A Conversation on the Path

On a recent walk, a guest and I found ourselves talking about artificial intelligence.

Like many people, they admitted they use AI regularly — for work, for writing, for organising ideas. They also admitted to feeling uneasy about it. Not because they fear technology itself, but because they have heard concerns about energy use, water consumption, and scale.

“I feel conflicted,” they said. “I use it, I value it — but I worry about the cost.”

This is a very modern kind of discomfort.

As we walked, we spoke about how most technologies feel abstract until they suddenly don’t. Electricity is invisible until the power goes out. Water feels limitless until a drought arrives. Trust erodes when systems grow so large that no one can quite see how they work.

Walking allows these conversations to unfold gently. No one needs to be certain. No one needs to persuade.

Trust, Not Guilt

What emerged was not a call for people to be better, more disciplined, or more virtuous.

Quite the opposite.

Most people already care deeply. They recycle. They conserve water. They think about the future their children and grandchildren will inherit. The problem is not individual behaviour — it is systems that place too much responsibility on individual conscience.

When responsibility is invisible, people either disengage or carry a quiet sense of guilt. Neither leads to good outcomes.

But when systems are structured honestly, something interesting happens.

Think of:

• fire bans in summer

• water restrictions during drought

• fishing seasons that protect future stocks

People do not resent these when they are consistent, fairly enforced, and clearly tied to reality. In those cases, guidance feels less like control and more like weather advice — something to adapt to rather than argue with.

Trust shifts from belief to infrastructure.

A Thought About the Future

As the path climbed, the conversation drifted toward what the future might look like.

What if intelligence became more local again?

What if communities — or even individual homes — one day hosted small, local data centres, just as many now have solar panels and batteries? Local energy. Local responsibility. Clear limits. Clear accountability.

Not a return to medieval times — but a future where decision-making and food production become more local and resilient, while communication, shared knowledge, and creativity continue to flow globally through the digital world.

In such a future, legislation would not feel like restriction. It would feel like support — a way of freeing people to behave responsibly without constant vigilance or anxiety.

Ordinary goodness would be enough.

Walking On

Plato never trusted solitary intelligence. His philosophy lived in dialogue — because truth, for him, was not stored inside a single mind. It was revealed between minds.

Perhaps that is why walking conversations endure.

They remind us that thinking does not always require a desk, a screen, or certainty. Sometimes it only requires a shared path, a steady pace, and the willingness to wonder aloud.

We will leave the rest of this thought for another walk.

Cycling the Coll de Rates? Discover why stopping in Tàrbena offers more than coffee — a living village, history, and connection.

Every month, thousands of cyclists climb the Coll de Rates on the Costa Blanca in Spain.

They know the road.

They know the effort.

They know the descent.

But many never truly meet the village that waits quietly at the top.

Why Cyclists Ride Through Tàrbena Without Stopping

Tàrbena is not a resort village.

It does not shout for attention.

It does not offer fast rewards.

It offers something rarer.

Time.

Set between the inland mountains of Alicante and the Mediterranean horizon, Tàrbena has always been a place of passage — but never only a place to pass through. Ancient paths link it to neighbouring valleys. Dry-stone walls trace centuries of work. Almond trees mark the seasons more faithfully than any calendar.

From the ridges, on clear days, the island of Ibiza appears on the horizon — a reminder that this inland valley has always belonged to wider Mediterranean worlds.

Yet what makes Tàrbena special is not its views alone.

It is the way life still moves here.

Language survives in daily conversation.

Terraces are still worked.

Water is still respected.

People still greet one another by name.

This is not heritage behind glass.

It is heritage still breathing.

A Village Built on Continuity in the Costa Blanca Mountains

After the expulsion of the Moriscos, families from Mallorca repopulated the valley in the 17th century, bringing with them customs, farming knowledge, and a form of speech that still survives today: parlar salat. It is not preserved for tourists. It is simply spoken.

The valley has never tried to become fashionable.

It has only tried to remain itself.

Why Stopping in Tàrbena Matters for Cyclists

Coll de Rates cycling demands fitness and stamina.

When cyclists stop in Tàrbena, even briefly, something subtle happens:

Coffee is bought.

A bakery is used.

A conversation begins.

A photograph is taken.

A memory forms.

Small gestures, repeated thousands of times, can keep a village alive.

Young people leave rural villages when they feel invisible.

Villages survive when they are seen.

Stopping is not charity. It is participation.

A Different Kind of Cycling Rest Stop, on the Coll de Rates.

Tàrbena is not a place to rush.

It is a place to:

• walk a short street without a plan

• listen to a language older than the road

• notice how light moves across the mountains

• remember why journeys were once made slowly

Some cyclists come for a coffee.

Some return later for longer walks.

Some discover local food, trails, or stories.

Some eventually walk with goats through the same landscapes that shaped the village.

And some simply leave with a quieter heart.

All of them leave with more than they expected.

Visiting Tàrbena: A Request, Not a Promotion

This is not an advertisement.

It is an invitation.

The next time you ride through Tàrbena, consider stopping — not because the village needs you, but because you may need the village.

To remember that not all journeys are measured in speed.

Some are measured in connection.

The Gentle Benefits of Walking with Pack Goats in the Mountains of Spain

Euro Goat Trekkers offers ethical pack goat walking experiences with our own goats — raised and trained slowly as part of our family. We are based in the inland mountains of the Costa Blanca, Spain.

When people first hear about walking with pack goats, they often imagine adventure expeditions or long-distance trekking. But in the mountains of Spain, walking with goats can be something far more gentle, human, and meaningful.

It is not only about carrying equipment. It is about walking differently.

More Than Load Carrying

Yes, pack goats can carry light equipment, water, or supplies. This makes walks easier and more comfortable, especially for longer routes or warm days.

But their presence changes the rhythm of a walk. People slow down. They observe more. They smile more.

The walk becomes less about distance, and more about experience.

Companionship on the Path

Goats are social animals. They walk with curiosity, confidence, and quiet awareness. For many people, especially those walking alone or in small groups, goats offer a sense of companionship that feels natural and calming.

They are not demanding. They are simply present.

This presence often creates moments of connection that visitors remember long after the walk has ended.

A Light Footprint on the Landscape

Compared to larger pack animals, goats have a lighter impact on mountain paths. Their sure footing causes less erosion, and their natural behaviour fits well within fragile ecosystems.

Walking with goats encourages respect for the land, not dominance over it.

Perfect for Mountain Terrain

Goats are naturally adapted to rocky, uneven, and narrow paths. Watching them move through the landscape teaches us something important: how to trust the terrain instead of fighting it.

They remind us that mountains are not obstacles — they are living places.

Reaching Quiet Places

With pack goats, walkers can explore remote and peaceful areas of the Spanish mountains without overloading themselves. This allows visitors to reach viewpoints, terraces, forests and hidden paths that feel untouched and authentic.

These are often the places where the deepest memories are made.

Educational and Therapeutic Value

Walking with goats is also deeply educational. Children and adults learn about animal behaviour, responsibility, cooperation, and natural ecosystems — not from books, but from lived experience.

Many visitors also describe the walk as calming, grounding, and quietly therapeutic. The slow rhythm, the animals, and the mountain air work together to reduce stress and restore balance.

Animal Welfare Comes First

At Euro Goat Trekkers, animal welfare is not a slogan — it is the foundation of everything we do.

Our pack goats join us as young kids. We bottle-feed our male goats from six weeks of age until they are four months old, and they grow up as part of our family. From the very beginning, they walk freely in the mountains with us, learning the landscape, the paths, and the rhythm of the valley.

We do not begin pack training until they are fully mature.

• At two years old, they may wear empty, lightweight packs to become familiar with the feeling.

• At three years old, they begin carrying very light loads.

• Only at four years old do they gradually reach a maximum of 25% of their body weight — never more.

We never force our goats to walk. They are not led. They walk with us because they choose to.

They wear collars only so that we can attach a bell to each goat, allowing us to hear the herd moving gently through the landscape. The bells are not for control — they are for awareness, safety, and connection.

Our goats are companions, not tools.

They are respected, listened to, and allowed to express their own personalities. If a goat does not wish to walk, it simply stays behind.

This relationship of trust is what makes walking with pack goats truly special.

This slow, welfare-first approach is at the heart of every walk we offer in the Costa Blanca mountains.

Supporting Creative and Professional Work

Pack goats can also support photographers and filmmakers who work in natural environments. By carrying camera equipment gently and quietly through mountain terrain, goats allow wildlife photographers to reach remote locations without disturbing the landscape or the animals they hope to observe.

In these moments, goats become part of the creative process — helping humans document nature while remaining part of it.

It’s a quiet way to carry gear through mountain terrain without disturbing the landscape — especially in remote corners of the Costa Blanca.

A Different Way to Walk

At Euro Goat Trekkers, we see walking with goats not as an activity, but as a relationship.

It is about:

• Walking together

• Sharing the landscape

• Learning from animals

• Moving at a human pace

In a fast world, this gentle way of walking feels quietly radical.

Walking with pack goats in the mountains of Spain is not about conquering nature.

It is about walking beside it.

And sometimes, that makes all the difference.