Inside Costa del Sol city’s ‘donkey taxis’ stand-off with activists

Dressed in white, with ropes akin to bridles draped around their necks, a 100-strong crowd gathered outside the tourist office in the centre of Mijas last month.

‘Free the donkeys!’ chanted the throng of people. Some carried placards bearing the words, ‘Mijas: pretty town with an ugly heart.’ Other signs simply said: ‘Bajate del burro’ (Boycott the donkeys).

In this prehistoric Spanish enclave, temperatures are rising. And not just because it’s upwards of 30C.

But rather, because there’s a stand-off between local animal rights activists – who want to rid the town of the so-called ‘donkey taxis’ it has long been famous for – and the donkey owners who seemingly exploit these animals for their own financial gain.

Donkey-drawn carriages are a decades-long tradition unique to this Andalusian town on the Costa del Sol. But protestors fear this once charming quirk has become an exploitative industry with donkeys put to work in the fierce heat for hours on end, pulling carts overloaded with tourists.

As the protest worked towards a crescendo, some making rude gestures and being pushed back by the police, a donkey owner named Salvador Torres led his animal out in front of the baying crowd.

The donkey was in fine shape. It wore an ornate saddle and harness decorated in bright red and orange with braided tassles. It was as though Salvador was asking the crowd: ‘Does this animal look abused to you?’

One thing is for sure, neither side in this fierce debate is likely to back down any time soon.

The demonstration was organised by French-born local resident Anne Blitz, a former official at the European Commission. Founder of ‘Free Mijas Donkeys and Horses’ (Liberar Burros Y Caballos), she first visited the town in the 1970s and says she was ‘appalled’ by how the donkeys were treated, insisting little has changed.

‘We are living in the 21st century. We can’t go on with this medieval activity,’ she told the Mail. ‘These people [the donkey owners] are aggressive and violent.’

Though Anne has campaigned for years, her movement gained traction in August when footage posted on social media showed a donkey – which was pulling a carriage for tourists – allegedly collapse from exhaustion. The latest, she says, in a long line of animal welfare violations.

Her proposal is that the council replace the animals with tuk tuk bike taxis.

‘No animal should have to suffer for human entertainment,’ says British expat Elise Dunweber, who is president of the Animals in Marbella Sanctuary. ‘If people knew what really happened to these donkeys, they would think twice about participating.’

A majority of Spanish locals, however, believe this is a problem largely fuelled by greedy expats who don’t respect the local tradition.

‘Look at those people, do you see anybody who’s Spanish?’ Leo Luck asks, pointing at the activists. ‘No. Because for Spanish people this is important.’ The 68-year-old owns three Arabian horses. ‘Why would I abuse the animal that provides food for my family?’

Another resident, who doesn’t give me his name, adds: ‘They began with the bullfights. Now it’s the donkeys. What’s next?’

Some of the locals are more blunt.

‘Those people are all stupid!’ says shopkeeper Cali, who sells leather goods. ‘WE are the donkeys here – we work more hours than the actual donkeys.’

Abdul Hafiz, who also runs a leather shop, is similarly baffled. ‘Don’t they know donkeys were the taxis before we had cars!’ he laughs.

Of course, Spain is notorious for its shocking treatment towards certain animals. There are still pockets of the country where strange and sickening rituals see various creatures suffer for the sake of entertainment, namely the notorious bullfights.

But it’s the Mijas ‘Burros Taxi’ that has been under the spotlight in recent years. The tradition dates back to the early 1960s, when Spanish workers who returned home on their donkeys were stopped by foreign visitors to take photos and have a ride. As the tip was often higher than their wages, the workers soon caught on to a new way of making a living.

Now, no visit to this charming town – 20 minutes from Malaga Airport – is complete without a ride on the icon of Mijas. The animals take the visitors around the narrow streets, lined with whitewashed Andalusian buildings, and adorned with geraniums and bougainvillea flowers in blue pots.

At least 70 per cent of the tourists, I’m told, are English.

The donkeys park at their ‘taxi stand’ opposite the tourist office, and rest in pens one floor below during the day before retiring to closed stables elsewhere at night.

Activists claim the stables are in appalling condition. Owners deny this but do concede that the stables could be more spacious. My request to see them is denied.

There are 65 donkeys, but only half are out in the day, providing a 20-minute ride – 15euros for one passenger or 20euros for two. (For those not brave enough to try out the real thing, there’s a life-sized bronze donkey statue nearby.)

But tensions about the plight of Mijas’s donkeys have been mounting for several years.

The Town Hall recently introduced a rule requiring donkey taxis and horse drawn-carriage services to be reduced in extreme heat ‘with the aim of protecting the health and welfare of both the drivers and animals’. Under this decree, the burro taxis must not operate during amber or red heat warnings. During a yellow weather warning the animals must not work between 2pm and 6pm – despite donkey owners asserting that the animals are mostly in the shade all day.

But on August 18 campaigners claimed that the owners ignored the above warnings, when temperatures were nearing 40C.

Ian Grace, a 52-year-old animal rights activist from Shrewsbury, started livestreaming onto Facebook, when he was stopped by one of the donkey owners – later identified as Salvador.

‘I told him I had a legal right to film, but he was getting angry,’ he tells me. ‘He said to me, ‘I’m going to break your head!’. He smashed my glasses and knocked my phone to the floor. Then we were grappling around on the floor; he was sitting on top of me and punching me.’

Someone eventually broke up the fight and Ian was taken to hospital, where he was treated for bruising around his eyes and nose. He later filed a complaint to the Guardia Civil.

‘I didn’t even goad the guy or tease him,’ he insists. ‘I was only interested in the donkeys’ welfare. It’s legalised abuse. These owners don’t care about the regulations.’

In the footage seen by the Daily Mail, Salvador is seen knocking Grace to the ground. In another clip from a different angle, Torres is on top of Grace gripping both the activist’s hands.

Torres, naturally, denies assaulting Ian. The heavyset 49-year-old, who owns 10 donkeys and has been running this business for 30 years, is sitting near the taxi rank when I approach him with an interpreter, Monica Andreewitch.

Though she lives nearby, she has never visited Mijas because of the abuse allegations. An equestrian with over a dozen horses, I’ll be interested to get her opinion later.

But back to Torres. He maintains it was Ian who provoked him.

‘He’s [Ian] not an innocent tourist, he’s a radical animal rights activist. These people harass our customers. He went down to where the donkeys take a rest. I told him to go away but he started shouting, ‘Fuckoff! You’re an abuser!’. He pulled my t shirt over my head and we both fell to the ground. I was holding his hands so HE wouldn’t hit me. I got hurt as well,’ he says, pointing to the marks on his knee and face.

He’s now pressed harassment charges against Grace and Blitz, who counter that Torres is painting himself as the victim.

Donkeys can carry up to 30 per cent of their bodyweight. But in 2020, the town banned tourists weighing over 80kg (12st 7lb) from riding them, after numerous complaints.

Yet photos on social media purportedly show donkeys with open wounds under their breaching straps, or carrying overweight passengers.

‘We all have a licence and the donkeys are checked by a vet twice a year,’ Salvador adds. ‘They eat twice a day and if they’re hot they get water.’

Miguel, a worker, claims people jump to conclusions.

‘The donkey might have his head down or against the railing, and they take a picture saying ‘poor donkey!’. They claim that I’m a criminal. But these donkeys are like my children,’ he says.

The 57-year-old admits the weight limits were long overdue, but wants better insulated stands. The town’s horse carriages, in contrast, rest under a large canopy providing them with ample shade.

Regulations were also updated some years ago, to get the rope around the donkeys’ necks (attached to the bar) lengthened from 30cm to 50cm. But campaigners insist that this still restricts their movement and access to water.

‘If the rope is too long, the donkeys start fighting with each other. It’s a safety issue,’ Salvador explains. In an ideal world, he adds, the donkeys would have proper pens.

Animal rights political party PACMA has long been vocal in its opposition to the donkey taxis. It has reported many sanctions over the years: donkeys working from sunrise to sunset in extreme temperatures; being chained all day long; and working when they’re sick.

Last November, PACMA claimed a donkey died without proper veterinary assistance after suffering colic.

The organisation will be launching legal action against the town hall.

‘The situation is untenable, and the donkeys can’t wait forever,’ says Cristina Garcia, vice-president of the party. ‘These donkeys are slaves.’

The Mail contacted Mijas Town Council, but no one was available to comment.

For campaigners the ‘solution’ is to retire the donkeys to a sanctuary where they can roam freely.

‘A few retired donkeys from the burros taxi were recently sent to us. Two were not in a good condition,’ says Amaya Isert, founder of the nearby Donkey Dreamland rescue centre. ‘At the end of the day they’re an icon of Mijas and we’re trying to find a solution to make everyone happy.’

Retired donkeys are either sold on or, in most cases, sent to the slaughterhouse. Little wonder they’re now an endangered species.

Back to Monica, my interpreter. Having seen the conditions for herself, she’s had a surprising change of heart.

‘I was prejudiced before. I don’t believe those men are cruel.’

She does, however, acknowledge that the owners could be given more training and standing all day isn’t good for the donkeys.

‘There are things that can be improved. But if people want to campaign about this issue, then they should be smarter. Coming at people with cameras is not the way to do it.’

The protesters pack up for the day. But the issues isn’t dying down any time soon. Not while allegations of abuse continue, and all the donkeys and horses are freed

Salvador, meanwhile, is wondering if he should cut his losses.

‘They call me a criminal, abuser. I feel like saying I don’t want to do this anymore,’ he sighs. ‘But it would be sad if this tradition were to be lost. This is unique to Mijas’.