An Asturian hórreo is a pantry raised off the ground on posts, the pegollos, so air can circulate and the grain doesn't rot. Between the pegollo and the hórreo sits a muela, a flat slab about 80 or 90 centimetres across that keeps rodents from climbing up. It has a square floor plan and a four-sided roof.
The first thing that catches your eye travelling around Asturias isn't the mountains or the cows: it's those dark wooden boxes raised off the ground on four legs, each leg topped with a flat stone, standing next to the houses. They're hórreos — the traditional raised granary on stone posts — and they're not decorative. Every piece of a hórreo solves a very specific problem, and the cleverest of them all is that round stone that looks like an ornament and is actually the one thing standing between a family and losing an entire harvest.
The stone that saved the year
The most recognisable feature of the Asturian hórreo is its posts, the pegollos — the timber or stone posts that lift the whole structure off the ground — on which the rest of the building rests. Between each pegollo and the hórreo there's always a round or square stone, the muela or pegollera: flat limestone slabs about 80 or 90 centimetres across, whose only job is to keep rodents from climbing up.
It's a simple, perfect mechanism. The mouse climbs the pegollo, reaches the edge of the muela, meets a flat overhang it can't get a grip on underneath, and falls off. Rodents were one of the biggest risks to losing a harvest; the whole hórreo is raised off the ground for that reason, and also so air can circulate and the grain doesn't rot.
A very clearly defined building type
The 'standard' Asturian hórreo is a perfectly defined type, with three unchanging features: a square floor plan; walls made of vertical boards slotted into two four-beam frames, one below and one above; and a four-sided roof that comes together at a single peak. That square floor plan is what sets it apart from the Galician hórreo, which is long and narrow.
It's assembled with barely any nails, piece slotted into piece: it's a structure you can take apart. Hórreos have historically even been moved, piece by piece, when a family relocated. A several-tonne pantry, portable.
The craft of the master hórreo builder
Behind every hórreo is a craft. The maestro horrero — the master builder — would select two chestnut trees of similar size and thickness, split them lengthwise, and use them as main beams, setting one half facing the other. In other words: a hórreo's two main beams are the two halves of the same tree, which is why they behave the same way and age the same way.
That level of judgement — choosing the tree with an eye on how the wood will behave a hundred years from now — is what gets lost when a craft disappears. There are still horreros restoring and building today, but not many.
What to look for when you pass one
Hórreos have a tradition going back to Roman times, with documented references from the 13th century onward, and they flourished especially in the 18th century. Many have the date and the owner's initials carved into a beam, and some still show painted or carved decoration on the boards: they're the signature of the house.
Also look for whether it has a corredor — the outer walkway under the eaves — and check the size: the very large, rectangular ones, with six pegollos or more, aren't hórreos anymore but paneras. In the Nalón Valley there are dozens visible from the road. Once you know what each piece is for, they stop being postcards and start being machines.
Quick questions
What's the difference between a hórreo and a panera?
The very large, rectangular ones, with six pegollos or more, aren't hórreos anymore but paneras.
How does the Asturian hórreo differ from the Galician one?
The Asturian one has a square floor plan; the Galician one is long and narrow.
Since when have there been hórreos in Asturias?
They have a tradition going back to Roman times, with documented references from the 13th century onward, and they flourished especially in the 18th century.