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The rehabilitation of the Iberian lynx is one of the great conservation success stories. In 2002, just 94 remained in a few isolated pockets of habitat, and only 25 of them were females of cub-bearing age. Extinction was a very real possibility. Now, more than 2,000 of these charismatic animals live across large swathes of Spain and Portugal.

Not that you would know it when trying to find one. An early glimpse of the distinctive pointed ears, far away on a high ridge, had lulled me into thinking they would be lurking behind every bush. But over two days we searched high and low, on hilltops and in deep river valleys, around old farm buildings and in haystacks – and for a long time we found nothing. Or rather, we found many things, but no lynx.

The terrain of southern Extremadura, about 75 miles north of Seville, is highly diverse – and in places, surprisingly African. With big skies, tall grass and vultures circling over broad-topped trees, it could easily pass for upland East Africa and it’s just as empty. In fact, much emptier. In Tanzania, you may be jostling with half-a-dozen 4x4s for the best view of a big cat. Here, you are guaranteed solitude.

A private expedition

(Image credit: Holden Frith)

Samuel Plá, our guide, worked in conservation for two decades before branching out into eco-tourism. He had spent years trying to persuade local farmers that they could build a sustainable future, for themselves and for the lynx, by inviting in wildlife enthusiasts.

“I kept saying it’s not difficult,” Samuel says. “They told me, if it’s so easy, why don’t you do it yourself?” Eventually, he took the plunge, securing exclusive rights to bring visitors onto a 21,000-acre private estate. Now his company, Lynxperience, has joined forces with Journeys With Purpose, a British tour operator that specialises in conservation-led travel, to offer bespoke lynx safaris.

Under the skin of Llerena

(Image credit: Holden Frith)

The itinerary is built around visitors’ interests, but includes as a starting point four game drives at sunrise and sunset, when the lynx tend to be most active. In between, you are introduced to the culture, history and food of Llerena, a town with roots in the Moorish occupation.

Despite, or perhaps because of, its rich history – it was also at the heart of the Spanish Inquisition and on the front line in the Peninsular War and Spanish Civil War – the town reveals its charms slowly. Buildings turn their backs to the street, their outer walls white and windowless, defensive rather than decorative. Then, as the afternoon wears on, the heavy wooden doors swing open, offering a glimpse of slender-pillared courtyards and the scent of orange blossom drifting from gardens within.

Samuel’s relationship with a private tour guide, as well as Llerena’s restaurants, hotels and farm shops, means nowhere is off limits. A church is unlocked so we can see a recently discovered fresco, now under restoration. A hotel opens up the spiral staircase to its mirador, or lookout tower, so we can see over the rooftops to the Arab castle we’ll visit later in the weekend.

Food and board

(Image credit: Liam Hallett)

We stayed at two hotels (accommodation is also flexible), the serene La Dehesa de Don Pedro in the hills outside Llerena, and Casa Rural Cieza de León, in the heart of the old town. The latter is also where we met Daniel Acedo, a man with the unrivalled job title of “international ham carver”. In the sunlit hotel courtyard, he taught us to slice off the finest slivers of Jamón Ibérico from the leg of an acorn-fed pata negra pig – then invited us to dine on the product of our (and mostly his) work.

Two of our dinners were served out in the field, laid out on the tailgate of the truck, as the sun went down. These generous picnics of ham, cheese, bread, gazpacho and wine had been assembled during visits to local bakers, cheesemakers and other stores, which, in a small way, helps spread the benefits of tourism deeper into the community. They also left me feeling more like a guest than a visitor.

The finale

(Image credit: Holden Frith)

The second picnic, late in our last game drive, had seemed to mark the end of our search for another lynx. I was a little disappointed, but philosophical. The fields and flowers, eagles, rabbits and deer had all made the trip worthwhile in their own right.

Then, suddenly, there he was, lying in the long grass, his golden coat catching the last of light. We spent a long time with him as he waited for the temperature to drop, then up he got, stretching and padding his way towards us. It was almost dark now, and not easy to get a good picture, but the moment is pin-sharp in my memory: the glow of his eye in the dusk as he glanced our way, then slipped through a sheep fence and slunk off into the undergrowth.

(Image credit: Holden Frith)

Holden was a guest of Journeys With Purpose and Lynxperience