A magical stay at Los Potreros estancia

If I could choose to be reincarnated, I’d pick coming back to life as Harvey. Although a little fat, he’s the picture of health and he’s happy. No wonder. Harvey, a black Labrador belonging to the Beggs - an Anglo-Argentine family who own the idyllic estancia Los Potreros - has a perfect life. His silky black coat glistening from his morning swim in the farm’s waterfall, he pulls himself up from the patch of grass where he was sleeping and waddles over to greet us as we arrive, tail furiously wagging and head lolling to-and-fro contentedly.

He’s not the only one that gives us a warm welcome. Lou Begg canters up on horseback, hops off and shakes our hand, with a big grin on her face. We’re offered a lemonade by a uniformed staff member, and boys in flat caps and jodhpurs take our battered backpacks to our room. Cosy and rustic, with antique paintings hanging on the wall and a old metal wood-burner, it’s a bit like being in rural England. Until you look outside…

The 6,000 acre farm is within the sierras chicas of Cordoba province. Dramatic mountains surround the farm in every direction – no hint of ‘civilisation’ visible to the eye. Silence reigns, apart from the clucking hens and a crowing cockerel who tiptoe right past our cabin. Harvey lazily raises his head as a hen gets particularly close, but then slumps back down again and settles back down to sleep. He’s used to the company of other animals on the farm, including horses. And he has to be, as here at Los Potreros it’s all about the horses. 160 of them to be precise. These creatures are beautiful and incredibly well-trained. Novice riders, Ed and I felt completely safe. Soon after arriving, we rode amongst the whispering long grass, and brought back the fouls. A day later we were confident enough to play an amateur’s game of polo – one of the world’s most dangerous sports.

The estancia is a breeding farm, and the Beggs’ passion for the animals is obvious. The family have been doing this for generations. Kevin Begg’s ancestors came over to Argentina from Glasgow to escape the famine. On arrival, the work that was promised to Kevin’s great grandfather in Buenos Aires was a disappointment, so he packed up his bags and his family headed up north, to Cordoba province where he started up the estancia all those years ago. And as I sit here, surrounded by beautiful green fields and listening to birds twitter, I feel grateful he made such a clever move.

What’s so special about staying at the estancia – apart from the idyllic location – is the way guests are treated as old friends of the family. Meals are taken together with the other guests on the veranda of the main house on sunny days, en famille. As we sat down to eat that first day, conversation flowed between us English, an elderly American couple, a French couple, and our Anglo-Argentine host. A motley crew if ever there was one, but by the end of our stay, we felt like a little family. We meet again at 8pm for pre-dinner drinks, before being treated to another delicious regional delicacy – carbonada, a hot pot of vegetables and pork. On our final day we ate parilla outside, and Kevin jokes we’re probably eating one of his prime Aberdeen Angus cows, which he sells to the local butcher, who he buys his meat from! I stop, mid-mouthful, feeling guilty, thinking I could be eating the brother, mother or sister of one of those beautiful black cows we passed today, on the way back from our ride. But I don’t hesitate for long, as it tastes so good.

Time to go, and we get into the 4x4 that takes us down the dusty track and out of the estancia. Lou and Kevin wave us off, and Harvey runs after the car for a while, before he gives up, and heads back for his afternoon siesta in the sun. I wonder what he will be doing later. Will he be accompanying the guests to the polo field? Or bringing in the fouls with Kevin? Whatever it is, he doesn’t have to leave the estancia today like us, or tomorrow or the day after that, or ever. Ah Harvey, what a lucky Lab you are.