Spain – DJmotortouring

Cambrils (Catalonia), Spain October 2024 (Tour 10)

Cambrils doesn’t currently figure amongst my favourite places in Spain but it ticks a great many boxes and at other times in my life I could easily have ranked it higher.

Best of all is that it remains a working fishing port serving a wide selection of restaurants (including three Michelin Star restaurants) which have produced some of the best seafood I’ve ever tasted. Cambrils is quite rightly rated the gastronomical capital of Catalan. Second, it has some of the finest Blue Flag beaches on Spain’s Costa Dorada (Golden Coast). Indeed, it’s nine kilometres of coastline are characterised by a calm shallow sea with crystal clear water and wide golden beaches of fine sand. My favourite is Platja de La Llosa which is one of the quieter beaches just to the south of the harbour and behind the Cambrils’ town letters. It’s close to many of the better restaurants (more of that later) and to Cambril’s colourful little old town.

There’s a promenade which stretches the length of Cambrils’ beaches all the way to neighbouring Salou with it’s PortAventura Theme Park and Aquopolis Water Park and; those features would have ticked further boxes if we’d visited Cambrils with our children when they were younger. So too would the diverse range of water sports on offer on some of Cambril’s beaches but, sorry, these particular attractions no longer do anything for me.

*Platja del Regueral* *(north of the harbour en route to Salou)*

For me, Cambrils greatest feature is it’s harbour and, of course, the seafood landed there. We last visited the town in 2022 and, at a small restaurant on the Passeig de les Palmeres, Vanya enjoyed what she described as the best meal of her life. It was a freshly made seafood paella. We were returning to Cambrils to eat at that same restaurant once again.

Previously we stayed in Camping La Llosa, to the south of the town centre. This time, for no other reason than that we wanted to see more of the other side of the town, we parked up at Camping Platja Cambrils. There’s little difference between the two campsites but Platja Cambrils does entail more walking.

My first priority was to check that Nala would be up for the walk into town in her walking wheels – no worries there. The second priority was to ensure our restaurant, the Braseria de Port, was still open for business and that we could get a table – again no worries. In fact, quite the reverse. The owner, Simon, was delighted that we would be returning to his restaurant in preference to La Bresca (a Michelin Recommended restaurant) and Can Bosch, the Rincon de Diego and the neighbouring Miramar (all of which hold a Michelin Star), to say nothing of the countless other restaurants nearby. Moreover he confirmed that he would be delighted to serve Vanya a single portion of Paella (restaurants here generally insist Paella dishes be made for a minimum two persons) and, best of all, advised he had retained the same kitchen staff and that Vanya could expect at least as good a dish as before. I reserved a table for 8pm, telephoned Vanya with details of the dining arrangements and set off to see if much in the town has changed since our last visit.

I mentioned at the outset that my interests in Cambrils are limited to the harbour and the seafood. Well, I walked miles around the town during what remained of the day, taking in three principal churches (Esglesia de Santa Maria, Eglesia de Sant Pere and the Santuari Mare de Deu del Cami), the town’s 17th century watchtower which is now a small history museum (Torre del Port) and the town’s tourist office – every one of which was closed! Even the Parque del Pescador was locked! To see so many places of interest closed on a weekday is disappointing and did nothing to raise my opinion of the town. I think the local council needs to intervene because the local tourist office seems to be doing very little to help market Cambrils and it’s attractions.

I’m not sure that I even like the statues here although during this visit I focused only on statues along the promenade. The town’s most celebrated sculpture on the promenade is a piece of modern art known as the Two Mermaids which, sadly, does nothing for me although I do respect it’s intent. It comprises two mermaids, three fishermen (carrying baskets of fish) and a small, seated youth by the name of Adrian. The work is a ceramic and steel construction erected in 2011 on the 100th anniversary of a great storm which saw 140 fishermen, many from Cambrils, killed out at sea. I’m told that “the fishermen represent the lost souls of those killed. One of the mermaids represents the storm while the other represents humanity. Little Adrian stands for hope for the future”. Of course there’s absolutely nothing in the area to explain this representation. A simple plaque would do. Where is the Ayuntamiento when it’s needed?

Notwithstanding the above, I very much enjoyed my time down at the harbour during the late afternoon, watching the fishing trawlers unload their catches and enjoying the subsequent auctions. It seems everyone enjoys the spirited spectacle that is a fishing auction (not that I could understand much that was being said) and it was with some difficulty that I tore myself away from the event to get ready for dinner. Bring on the fish!

Later in the day we strolled back along the promenade to the Braserie de Port. Simon was there to greet us and show us to our table and the food that followed (together with the service) was exceptional. We were offered a small range of fish starters to share and then Vanya chose a Lobster Paella for her main course while I opted for the Sole. A fine bottle of Alborino was served with the fish. The food experience was, as promised by Simon, every bit as good as before. Methinks we’ll be back.

Oh. I nearly forgot. Before leaving Cambrils we purchased a kilo of freshly cooked prawns (size 30-50) to enjoy back at the Van tomorrow…

Miravet (Catalonia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Our next overnight stop was Cambrils, a little over 20 miles to the north of Ametlla. That left plenty of time beforehand for us to visit the small village of Miravet some 30 miles east of Ametlla.

I had been told Miravet was a pretty enough village to warrant the short detour but; it was the castle’s history which most interested me. I knew it to have been the headquarters of the Knights Templar across Catalan and Aragon and one of the best preserved examples of a Cistercian-Romanesque Castle-Monastery in the whole of Spain. It was also one of the last holdouts of the Order after the Templars were abolished by the Catholic church. The castle was a must-see for me.

The route took us along the TV-3022 to the Mitravet Ferry Station where an old style ferry, a Pas de Barca, would take us across the River Ebro to the village itself. A Pas de Barca comprises two punts, topped with a wooden platform, which is linked to both banks of the river by a thick metal cable. The ferry operator makes use of the cable and the river’s current to propel the boat over the water. This type of transport was used all along the river until the 1960’s but only two remain in service, one being at the Miravet crossing.

We reached the Ferry Station to discover the ferry was out of service. There had been a lot of rain and the river was running too high and fast. We had to drive the long way around to Miravet via Mora d’Ebre but, honestly, having seen photos of the ferry at the crossing point, I wasn’t too disappointed. I cannot imagine such a small craft being able to safely carry a fully laden 7 metre motorhome across such a wide and fast flowing river (especially after Vanya had stocked the Van up with Cremant).

*The ferry in operation (when the river wasn’t so high)*

The diversion through Mora d’Ebre (Ebre is Catalan for Ebro) added just 20 minutes to the journey and we were soon parked up on a place reserved for motorhomes on the Partida Illetes just a short walk fom the village. The castle and village looked impressive from where we parked the Van but even more so from the small pier on the River Ebro.

A nearby tourist map helped us get our bearings and we were soon making our way up into the historic centre of Miravet. The narrow lanes of this old town cling to the side of a short but fairly steep 80 metre high hill to the castle. We didn’t expect Nala to make it all the way up in her walking wheels but we figured that if she could make it to the church we would get some reasonable views over the river before pausing for lunch. I would make my way up to the castle during the afternoon.

The Renaissance style church, the Esglesia Vella, was built by the Order of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem (the Knights Hospitallers) during the 16th/17th centuries. It was built on the site of an old Almoravid Mosque; the Almoravid’s being a sect of fanatical Muslim monks. Much like Miravet Castle, the church has seen more than it’s fair share of troubles and I would very much liked to have gone inside to learn more about the building but it was closed.

I know it was badly battered during the Spanish War of Succession in the early 18th century and; again during the many Carlist Wars of the 19th century but; it was the damage caused to the building during the Spanish Civil War, when anti-clerical riots saw the church spoiled in 1936 and then bombed during the Battle of Ebro in 1938, which led to it being abandoned. The church was restored in the 1980’s but, having been deconsecrated, is now used only to house exhibitions and the odd civil wedding but there are, supposedly, many traces of it’s former glory to be seen inside the building.

Disappointed not to have got inside the church but buoyed at the thought of seeing the castle later in the day, we retraced our steps to the Platja de Miravet where a pop-up food bar (that’s what they call burger vans now lol) served burgers and small selection of tapas patatas. I’m not complaining; the Van served cold beers and hot patatas bravas.

After lunch I escorted Vanya (and the dogs) back to the Van and then set off back up the hill to the castle. I made it and the views were all that I expected them to be.

*View over the Ebro from Miravet Castle*

It’s the history of the castle which most impressed me. It was the Moors who first built a castle on this site because of it’s commanding position over the River Ebro. A village followed. Both the castle and the village were seized from the Moors in 1153 by the Knights Templar on behalf of King Ramon Berenguer IV of Catalonia and Aragon. He then gifted them to the Templars for services in the wars against the Moors and the Templars remodelled the castle into the imposing fortress it is today.

The Templars also encouraged the repopulation of the area by Christians but, on a bright note, tolerated those Moors who chose to continue living in Miravet. However, the writing was on the wall for Templars and Moravet Moors alike after the Templars were later outlawed by the French King Philip IV (he sought the Order’s riches) and abolished by his puppet Pope Clement V (for heresy and various other trumped up charges).

The Knights Templar went first; wiped out in a long and bloody war by Catholic armies and with many Templar prisoners later being burned alive at the stake as heretics. Miravet Castle was the last Templar castle to fall (early in the 14th century). It is said that six knights refused to surrender even after the castle capitulated and all six died in the castle’s tower trying to protect the Order’s archives. The Pope subsequently gifted the castle to the Knight’s Hospitaller. That’s the same Hospitallers which later built the Esglesia Vella church.

As for the Miravet Moors, they continued to be tolerated until about the time the Jews were expelled from Spain but only if they renounced Islam and converted to Catholicism. The majority of Moors did convert to but were later betrayed by the Catholic church and deported to Algeria.

It was time to move on. We were due in Cambrils.

L’Ametlla de Mar (Catalonia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Joy of joys! An unspoilt fishing village which has not given way to tourism.

I’m not sure what made us choose L’Ametlla de Mar for a 2 day stopover. I suspect it was because Vanya was seeking another stop on the coast over the weekend (i.e. Friday and Saturday night). Even out of season, almost every campsite on the coast in Spain (and especially France) fill up at weekends, such is the popularity of motor homing these days. Whatever, it was an inspired choice because we enjoyed L’Ametlla de Mar and the campsite so much we stayed on a third night.

Camping Nautic, together with it’s very good restaurant, is located at the northern edge of the town on the tiny Playa Pixavaques. That’s not a beach I would choose to swim in (it’s rocky with too many sea urchins and jellyfish) but it’s pretty and close enough to where our Van was parked for us to hear the waves lapping during the night. It is also the starting point of a seafront promenade which leads to the town’s principal swimming beach Platja de L’Alguer (a 5 minute walk) and on to the harbour (another 10 minutes). The old town sits immediately behind the promenade.

*Platje de L’Alguer is a Blue Flag Beach*

The coastline here comprises 20 kms of crystal clear waters and beautiful unspoiled coves and beaches backed by a series of low cliffs and pine forests. Many of the small coves and beaches here are without names although there are 5 Blue Flag beaches in the immediate area. There are excellent coastal walks both to the north and south. Indeed, the GR92 Mediterranean Path runs along the entire Costa Dorada and beyond. The walk south from L’Ametlla de Mar to L’Ampolla was recommended to me but I didn’t have time and had to content myself with the much shorter walk north from Playa Pixavaques to the pebble beach of Platja de L’Estany Tort. It was delightful and I had it completely to myself.

Back to L’Ametlla de Mar. A walk down to the port area in L’Ametlla de Mar is a must. It’s inevitable that tourism will edge it’s way into the town but, for the moment it is first and foremost a fishing port and where better to experience that than down at the harbour, Port de l’Ametlla de Mar.

Most of the harbour is given over to working boats. There are leisure craft in the harbour but relatively few compared to the fishing fleet. Throughout the day, fishing boats of all shapes and sizes were making their way in and out of the port and some it seemed were destined for quite extended trips if the small crowds which had gathered on the quayside to wave them off was anything to go by. My favourite time is late afternoon, watching the more local element of the town’s fishing fleet unload their catch and auction it off in lots. Many of the fishermen then repaired to the port bar and started spending their hard earned pay in a very loud and raucous manner. I had a drink in the port bar on just the one occasion and, believe me, it was loud in there.

*A lull before the storm in the port bar*

The old town is built around a hill and looks down on the harbour. During our first day in L’Ametlla I spent a fair time wandering both the harbour area and the old town looking for a decent restaurant for the evening. There’s no shortage of restaurants and bars but I prefer those at the top of the town. They proved better value. Our favourites are up on the Placa Nova – a very welcoming tapas bar which goes by the name of Bar Pica Pica (and which fast became our local) and the Restaurant Placa Nova which served us a fine meal of deep fried baby monk fish followed by a seafood paella for Vanya and a cheese & octupus stew for me. Delicious!

Needless to say I visited the town’s primary church, L’Esglesia de la Mare de Deu de la Candelera on Carrer Jaume Balmas but, having been completed in the 1960’s, it’s a fairly modern church and doesn’t have the same character as so many others. i’ll say no more about the church.

It is the unusual street art in the town that I found most attractive. They are colourful murals with a marine focus which fill the whole sides of buildings in the town centre area. I found eight wonderful creations but there may well be more further afield.

Just one other item – the Tuna Tours. We’d seen posters advertising tuna tours and just ignored them. It was only on our last night in L’Ametlla that one of the staff at the Pica Pica told us about these particular tours. She made them sound so exciting. It seems that for 55 Euros per person in the high season and 45 Euros in the low season you can sail on a modern two deck catamaran some 5 kilometres to and from the Bluefin Tuna pools of Balfego where you will learn about the Balfego Tuna, swim with them and then eat some at a nearby restaurant. Apparently, this excursion is “an adventure, an education and a gastronomic experience all wrapped up in one”. Now I don’t know much about Balfego Tuna but the waitress described the experience as a really spectacular day out not least because the tuna you are swimming with can grow up to 3 metres in length and weigh up to 600 kilos. That is top of our list of things to do when we return to L’Ametlla and; hopefully, that will be sometime next year. I hope I can still fit into my wet suit.

It’s Cambrils tomorrow but we’ll be stopping at Miravet on the way.

Xilxes (Valencia), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Our next stop was to be Xilxes (pronounced Chilches in Spanish), some 38 kilometres north of Valencia City. Vanya wanted to be by the Mediterranean again.

Xilxes is a town not unlike Marseillan in France where there’s both a beach resort and a separate urban centre which are some way apart – 5 kilometres in the case of Marseillan, just over 3 kilometres in Xilxes. In fact, we were camped up at the very southern end of Xilxes which translates into almost a 5 kilometre walk to the town. That’s a round trip of more than 6 miles even without allowing anything for a wander around the town.

We’d arrived too late in the afternoon for me to want to walk into town that day and so we settled on the stone beach of Playa de El Cerezo. Beanie and especially Nala (who has always loved digging large stones out of the sea) were in their element and I think Vanya was too.

There are at least two other beaches to the north of the El Cerezo (the Playa de Xilxes and the Playa Les Cases) and they are also stone beaches except that they are covered in sand during spring and summer. When Vanya and the dogs were finished playing, I took a stroll along the beach towards the centre of Xilxes Beach Resort.

*Playa* *de Xilxes, complete with palm trees*

It was late September but even at 30 degrees celcius the beaches were quiet. I suspect it is much the same even in high summer. The seafront is entirely pedestrianised and the 1.5 kilometre promenade is backed almost entirely by residential properties (summer houses?). It is only at the centre of the resort, near the Monument Pescador de Rall, that there are any bars or restaurants. Most of the bars were still open but there were few customers. Ours was a lazy first day in Xilxes.

The next morning, I was ready to walk to the urban centre of Xilxes and decided to forge a path across La Marjal (the wetlands which separate the town centre from the seaside resort). That was a mistake and I had to retrace my steps and start again. I succeeded only in adding 3 miles to an already lengthy walk.

Having said that, there was much to appreciate about the walk. I didn’t realise how rich an agricultural area this part of Spain is. Valencia is rightly famous for it’s tangy oranges and I passed plenty of orange trees at the edge of La Marjal. There were also many fig trees and olive groves and some locally grown melons which figure amongst the best I have ever tasted. What surprised me most, however, were the large fields of rice. Despite knowing that Paella was created in Valencia it didn’t occur to me that it’s most essential ingredient, rice, could be grown locally (or anywhere in Europe for that matter). Indeed, the wetlands in this area are flooded every spring and summer that the rice may be cultivated here.

*… and there it is… rice fields in Europe*

In the end I approached the town by way of the Carretera Vell de la Mar and then the Calle del Rafol. I cannot remember how long the walk took but, upon arrival, I was more than ready for a sparkling water and a cold beer and immediately headed for Bar Felix on the Avinguda de Jaume I. Why there? Because it was a hot day and I’d googled the wherabouts of the nearest bar.

A boat (the Cruz del Sur) was parked on a roundabout at the entrance to the town but that wasn’t the strangest thing about the place. The streets were mostly empty; many streets were blocked off; there were cages everywhere and; metal grills were being fitted in front of doors and windows – some were fitted to the front of Bar Felix but I could fit through them (just!).

I ordered my water and my beer and then it dawned on me. There was to be some bull running in Xilxes! Streets were blocked so that the bull(s) could be channeled around the town. The windows and doors along the desired route were barred so as to deny the bull(s) access into people’s homes. Finally, the cages were for people to take shelter in if or when threatened by the bull(s).

Before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, bull running is not cruel and it isn’t to be confused with bull fighting (about which I have strong doubts). With bull running, the bull(s) has to be moved from A to B but he is not to be pulled, prodded or shoved in any way. Indeed, nobody is permitted to touch the bull or even make excessive noise which could trouble the bull. The runners can only induce the bull to follow them to the desired location by attracting it’s attention and then moving faster in that direction than the bull.

Bull running has it’s roots in days of yore when farmers had to get the bulls to market and young men would race the bulls to the pens. Over time it grew into a competition and was seen by some as a kind of initiation rite for young men transitioning to adulthood. Whatever, it’s not easy; trust me.

Having established that the event was scheduled for early evening (once the townsfolk finished work and when it would be much cooler) and having picked up some supplies from the local supermarket, I hastened back to Vanya to enquire as to whether or not she would be interested in watching the bull running later in the day. It couldn’t happen. With half the town’s streets closed off, there was absolutely no parking available in the town (least of all for a 7 metre van) and; neither Vanya nor the dogs would be able to walk to and from the town (especially Nala in her walking wheels) even assuming that dogs would be allowed near the event. I made the return journey to Xilxes on my own.

Crowds were gathering as I arrived back in the town. The whole town and much of the surrounding area were keen to enjoy the event (mostly from viewing platforms on top of the cages). There was a real carnival atmosphere about the place.

*The first bull will be released from behind those guys…*

*… and be channeled down Avinguda de Jaume I…*

*… except he preferred me and came straight at me…*

… I’ve never seen an animal of such size move so quickly and with such agility. I was filming and didn’t notice that the bull had changed direction towards me. I took some pretty good video and the above is a screenshot from that video as the animal turned. In hindsight, it was rather stupid of me to start filming such a beast from out on the street – but it was very exciting.

A second bull was scheduled to run once the first bull had completed the course but; the first bull simply wouldn’t co-operate and there’s little one can do with a 700 kg bull when it gets… well, bullheaded. Indeed, for a while it kept coming back to me and it took the runners and event organisers a good hour to move it through the town. I cannot speak for the second bull, which beast never got it’s turn to charge through the town, but the attitude of the crowd seemed to be one of “No matter, there will be another such event next year and we’ll wait until then for the next bull run” – after all, this kind of thing has been going on for hundreds of years.

I did get to see a little of the urban centre of Xilxes (the Plaza de Espana, the 17th century church and the La Union Fountain) but, being on the bull running route, they were all covered in iron bars. Never mind. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.

Cuenca (Castile La Mancha), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Located some 3,000 feet above sea level, Cuenca City is the capital of Cuenca Province in Castile La Mancha. The city was founded in the 8th century when the Moors constructed a castle (Qunka or Kunka) in a strategic position at the top of a narrow gorge above the two rivers of Jucar and Huecar and a settlement grew around around it. The castle was completely destroyed by French soldiers during the Napoleonic Wars but the settlement continued to develop into a small city of some 60,000 people with as well preserved a medieval old town as can be found anywhere in Spain. This extremely picturesque city contains a wealth of historical religious and secular buildings; so much so, it is recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We were checked into the NH Ciudad de Cuenca for a couple of nights with an option to stay longer such that we could properly enjoy the city. We’ve stayed with the NH hotel chain many times before and there’s nothing wrong with them. This particular NH Hotel is well placed on Cuenca’s principal thoroughfare, Calle de Los Hermanos Becerril. There’s plenty of good street parking in the area (even for a 7 metre motorhome); a large park next door on which to exercise the dogs; a small square just beyond the nearby church holding a few reasonably priced restaurant-bars and; best of all, the hotel is within easy walking distance of Cuenca’s spectacular old town.

Shortly after checking in to the hotel and seeing Vanya settled (it was her hair day), I set off down the Calle de Los Hermanos Becerril and was soon making my way up through the old town past the Torre de Mangana Clock Tower to the city’s main square (the Plaza Mayor) and it’s 12th century Cathedral (the Catedrale de Santa Maria la Mayor y San Julien de Cuenca). The cobbled streets leading up to the Plaza Mayor are steep and narrow and lined with brightly coloured four and five story apartment blocks. I love them, not least because of the shade these attractive buildings provide during a hot afternoon.

The Plaza Mayor is accessed via Calle de Alfonso VIII which passes under one of three arches of the Casa Consistorial (which building houses the City Hall) and on to the square. This was the heart of medieval Cuenca being the site of weekly markets, auctions, processions, bull fights and punishments. It remains the centre of modern day Cuenca.

On the right hand side of the square, as you pass under the arches, another line of brightly coloured buildings draws the eyes along a row of restaurant bars to the unusual but imposing front of the Cathedral. Built on the site of an old mosque at the behest of Queen Eleanor of Plantagenet (the wife of Alfonso VIII and daughter to England’s King Henry II), the cathedral facade has suffered considerable damage over the centuries; the worst of which were lightning strikes in 1837 and again in 1902 (when the Giraldo Tower collapsed, killing a number of the congregation) but, it is still a magnificent entrance.

*Plaza Mayor and the Cathedral*‘s *facade*

At the far end of the Plaza Mayor, opposite the City Hall, the Calle de San Pedro leads out of the Plaza and up to the city’s high point of Cuenca Castle but, tarry a while. There’s little left of the castle while the 12th/13th century Cathedral, also known as the Cathedral of Our Lady of Grace, is even more spectacular inside than out. Indeed, I spent more than two hours inside the cathedral marvelling at it’s contents.

Just inside the entrance to the Cathedral I came upon a life size diorama of the Last Supper. I couldn’t get a decent photo of the diorama but my efforts in this regard took me up onto the Cathedral triforium where I thought I might get a photo from above. It wasn’t to be because a ledge obscured a large part of the carving. However, the views from the triforium, both along the nave towards the sacristy and outside over the Plaza Mayor more than compensated.

I spent some time in the adjoining Bishop’s Palace (where various paintings and other ecclesiastical treasures are displayed) but the real beauty for me was in wandering the Cathedral. It is monumental. The richly decorated architecture is breathtaking in it’s scale and detail and the whole comprises so many fabulous chapels, sepulchres and little niches that it blew me away.

There are 20+ chapels to be admired. The Capilla Munoz, the Capilla de Covarrubias, the Capilla de Nuestra Senora del Sagrario and the Chapel of San Julian (the city’s patron saint whose relics are interred in the chapel) were amongst those that stood out.

I took so many photos. Few of those photos will have done the Cathedral justice but take look at some of them… the place is incredible.

After tearing myself away from the Cathedral I left the Plaza Mayor by way of Calle San Pedro and headed towards the top of the town with a view to visiting one of Cuenca’s oldest churches, the Iglesia de San Pedro.

This unusual church (it is octagonal on the outside but circular inside) was built during the 13th century in the Romanesque style although there’s little that is Romanesque about the church now. The church has suffered much damage over the centuries since it was built (particularly during the Spanish Civil War) and; while it has been beautifully restored it has been repaired in a predominantly 18th century style. That style doesn’t do too much for me but the views from it’s bell tower are special.

I thought the views over the Huecar Gorge from near the Cathedral were impressive but they just kept getting better as I moved further up the Old Town. The bell tower of the Iglesia San Pedro provides some wonderful panoramic views in all directions, especially those over the rooftops towards the Cathedral and the San Pablo Bridge but then; I arrived at the Mirador de Camilo Jose Cela near the 17th century Convento de las Camelitas Descalzas and the word panorama took on a whole new meaning. The view from this particular Mirador over the Huecar Gorge is something else…

Our second day in Cuenca saw Vanya and I walk the dogs through the city to the San Pablo Bridge which crosses the Rio Huecar Gorge and connects the Convento de San Pablo with the city. Vanya wanted to see the city’s emblematic 15th and 16th century Casas Colgadas (Hanging Houses) and this bridge offers some of the best views of both the houses and the city’s skyline.

There was a time when almost all of the town side of the Gorge was filled with hanging houses but only three remain and these had to be restored and reinforced early in the 20th century. Two of the houses now form the Museo de Arte Abstracto Espanol while the third has been converted into a restaurant (Casas Colgados Restaurante) by the Michelin recognised chef, Jesus Segura. This restaurant may not figure amongst the cheapest of Spain’s Michelin recommended restaurants but I doubt there are many restaurants that command better views.

*On the San Pablo Bridge; Hanging Houses to the left* *of the photo*

The original 16th century stone bridge over the Rio Huecar Gorge is long gone. The current 100 metre long iron and wood ‘beam bridge’ replaced it in 1903 and; it makes a great platform from which to take photos of the Hanging Houses on the city side of the Gorge and the former Dominican Convent (Convento de San Pablo) on the far side of the Gorge although; with it’s 60 metre drop to the river, you were never going to get Vanya onto it.

The 16th century Convent closed in 1973 and was falling into ruin until it opened as the 4 star Parador Cuenca Hotel in 1993.

There’s a great deal else I could write about Cuenca (it’s that interesting a place) but, I’m aware I’ve already written far more than would ordinarily be the case. So, I’ll write about just one other aspect of the city namely, the Cerro del Socorro.

The Cerro del Socorro (the Hill of Help) is the highest point to the east of the old town. There’s a good path a little way behind the Parador de Cuenca which winds it’s way to the top of this hill. It’s an easy 2 kilometre walk along what is known as a via crucis because the way up is marked by 14 stations of the cross. It leads to a huge statue of Jesus Christ (the Sacred Heart of Jesus) overlooking the Rio Huecar Gorge which was built on or near the site of an old hermitage. Nothing remains of the hermitage but there’s a viewing platform (the Mirador del Cerro del Socorro) at the foot of the Sacred Heart of Jesus which offers unrivalled views over the city and surrounding countryside.

There’s a road which leads to the top of the hill but to drive up is to miss out on a really delightful walk.

I will cease writing now but if ever a city deserved to be revisited, it is this one. There is so much more I would like to see. Every time I visited the old town I stumbled upon something new and exciting (and I still haven’t been inside the Casa Cogadas Restaurante or been to the Mirador de la Celosa or the Tunnels of Alfonso VIII) but; my biggest oversight was to miss out on visiting some of the more natural wonders in this part of the world -the Devil’s Window, the Molino de Herminio Waterfall and, especially the Ciudad Encantada. The Ciudad Encantada or Enchanted City is a geological site which has been described as a forest of limestone rock formations (which include the Hammer, La Tortuga, the Convent, the Bridge, the Sea of Stone and many more besides) and it is a must-see for me.

FOOTNOTE: Prior to our arrival in Cuenca, Vanya tried to get us into a different hotel, the Posada San Jose, but their only groundfloor room (which we needed for Nala) was already booked. It is an unusual boutique hotel in the heart of Cuenca old town on Calle Julian Romero and you know how Vanya is about boutique hotels? This one started as a 17th century palatial home and then became a College for Cuenca Cathedral’s choirboys before being abandoned in the early 20th century and then converted into a hotel in 1953. The current owners, Jennifer Morter and Antonio Cortinas took on the hotel in 1983 and have transformed it into something quite special.

It’s a truly unique building, built as a family home by the grandfather of a certain Juan Batista Martinez del Mazo. Mazo was a disciple of Diego Velazquez, one of Spain’s greatest ever painters and chamber painter to the Spanish royal family. In 1633 Mazo married Velazquez’ daughter, Francisca, and took her to live in the family home. In turn, Velazquez appointed Mazo his understudy and Mazo eventually, after Velazquez died, succeeded him as chamber painter to the royal family. Whilst the paintings of Velazquez are well known, those of Mazo are not; perhaps because he chose not to sign his own paintings and, instead pass them off as being works by Velazquez?

It was a different Mazo, a canon and archpriest of Cuenca Cathedral, Diego Mazo de la Vega who was behind the family home being transformed into a college for the Cuenca Cathedral Choir (the Colegio de Infantes de Coro San José). It opened as a college in 1668 and stayed open until the end of the 19th century when it was forced to close for financial reasons.

A certain Fidel Garcia Belanga converted it into a hotel in 1953 but it was Jennifer Morter and Antonio Cotinas who in 1983 transformed it into something resembling the Pasado San Jose of today.

During our stay in Cuenca, I popped into the Posada for a look and was lucky enough to meet one of the hotel’s two owners, Jennifer Morter. Sod’s law, the downstairs room would be available the day after we were to leave Cuenca and she was willing to offer it to us for just 70 Euros per night. Next time??

*Dining room view overlooking Rio Huecar Gorge*

I’ll end this blog with an image of Velasquez’ Los borrachos (The Triumph of Bacchus)…

Beteta (Castile La Mancha), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

A local in Canamares suggested we visit two nearby villages, Priego and Beteta. We started with Priego (the subject of an earlier blog) some 5 miles west of Canamares along the CM2023 and then Beteta which is 16 miles north east along the CM210.

Beteta is a ‘Pueblo Magico’ to be found on the ‘Rutas Magicas’. Prior to arriving in Beteta we had not heard of either the Pueblos Magicas de Espana or the Rutas Magicos but it seems they are two very much related initiatives (not unlike the Asociacion de los Pueblos mas bonitos de Espana) designed to promote toursist and developmental interest in member towns and/or regions. These are both relatively new initiatives and Beteta was one of the first villages in Castile La Mancha to be included in the network.

Of the two villages, Vanya and I preferred the much smaller Beteta; possibly because the cloudy weather had cleared by the time we arrived but more probably because it is nestled between two very spectacular settings, the Serrania de Cuenca Natural Park and the Alto Tajo Natural Park. Honestly, we found almost as much pleasure in the countryside surrounding Beteta as in the village itself. It’s truly wild with it’s huge plains, forests and gorges and it’s many rivers, waterfalls and lakes. It’s captivating just driving through it.

The vestiges of the 11th/12th Castillo de Rochafrida tower over tiny Beteta. This old stone watchtower, formerly an arab castle, can be seen from almost anywhere in the village.

The walls that used to surround Beteta have long gone. There were three gates in the old walls but only one, the Arco del Postigo, remains. The village itself comprises two cobbled main streets, the Calle de Fernando el Catolico (which leads on to Calle Real) and the Calle de Isabel La Catolica. They run almost parallel with each other and are joined by a number of connecting lanes.

The village church (the Iglesia Parroquial Nuestra Senora de la Asuncion) is on the Fernando el Catolico. This 15th century limestone church is quite plain on the outside but inside, it is very special. The congregation was gathering for a Sunday service as we arrived and I had time for just one photo of the inside of what has been described as “the noblest religious building in the whole of the Serrania de Cuenca”.

From the church we made our way down one of the connecting lanes to the Calle de Isabel La Catolica and the Plaza Mayor. There’s a very attractive bar on the square (the Bar Paraiso), complete with wonderful wooden balcony, and it was time for a spot of lunch.

We sat outside in the sunshine opposite the bar for the best part of an hour enjoying Manchego and cups of fresh coffee (I had to drive and it was too early for Vanya to want alcohol). Surprisingly, there were almost as many of the townspeople enjoying a drink on the square as I had seen gathered in church for the service. I guess the catholic church even in Spain doesn’t have the influence it used to have. I did smile when the number of people drinking on the Plaza Mayor almost doubled as the Sunday service finished.

We both enjoyed our brief lunch outside the Bar Paraiso but it was time to move on. The chap in Canamares had also suggested we visit a local beauty spot very close to Beteta, La Laguna de El Tobar.

The Tobar Lagoons just two kilometres from Beteta actually comprise a group of three very unusual lagoons (La Laguna Grande, La Laguna Pequena and Laguna Ciega). They are unusual in that the bottom of each of the lagoons is impermeable which means, effectively, they don’t drain. It’s waters are fresh on the surface but from 12 metres down they are salty (three times as much as the sea). This difference in density is such that the saltwater and freshwater cannot mix.

We parked at the tiny hamlet of Tobar and then walked a final kilometre to Laguna Ciega with Nala doing splendidly in her walking wheels and me moving much more slowly while musing over whether fish could survive in the lakes and, if so, whether they would be freshwater or saltwater fish. I still don’t know.

We’d spent a couple of really interesting days in and around Canamares but we were now more than three weeks into Tour 10 and keen to experience a little luxury. Our next stop would be in a hotel in Cuenca City for a couple of days.

Priego (Castile La Mancha), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

A local I talked to in Canamares recommended we visit the two small towns of Priego and Beteta. They were in opposite directions from Canamares but not too far apart and we decided to visit both, starting with Priego.

We had already passed by Priego on our way to Canamares. It lies about 5 miles west of Canamares on the CM2023 road and is considered the gateway to the Serrania de Cuenca National Park (home to, amongst others, the Iberian Wolf and the Brown Bear). Priego also forms part of the ‘ruta del mimbre’ (see the Canamares blog).

First things first, between Canamares and Priego the CM2023 follows the Rio Escabes where it has formed a deep rugged gorge of vertical limestone walls and exceptionally spectacular rock formations that are so typical of the Serrania de Cuenca landscape. At one of the deeper parts of the gorge there is a small layby which is the primary access point to the Ferrata de Priego (or the Via Ferrata Hoces de Priego complex to use it’s full name). This complex comprises three exciting ferratas graded between K1 (easy starter grade) and K4 (very difficult). I simply had to pull into a layby and investigate.

*The Van on the layby under the Via Ferrata Hoces de Priego*

A little further along the road to Priego, a mile or so from the town, is a turn off which leads to a very well preserved place of pilgrimage, the Convent of San Miguel de Las Victorias, which in 1573 became home to a congregation of Franciscan monks. The convent was so named because (a) it was built on the site of the Hermitage of San Miguel and (b) to commemorate a fairly recent Christian naval victory by the Holy League over the Ottoman Empire (the Battle of Lepanto) in 1571. Vanya wasn’t keen to visit the convent and we were running late so; I had to be satisfied with taking some photos of the outside of the building but I understand the inside is well worth a visit. Next time perhaps.

And so to the town of Priego; a small town of a little over 1,000 people and not to be confused with Priego de Cordoba in Andalucia which has something like 20,000 inhabitants.

Nowadays Priego relies on tourism and it’s wickerwork industry and it is not a particularly prosperous town but; it wasn’t always so. This is demonstrated by an abundance of old mansions in the town emblazoned with the coats of arms of former owners and; indeed, the ayuntamiento (the town hall) on the Plaza de los Condos was once a celebrated renaissance palace belonging to the Counts of Priego.

A number of the former Counts are buried in the crypts of the parish church (the 1540 Iglesia Parroquial de San Nicolas de Bari) which, except for the town hall, is perhaps Priego’s most impressive building although; there is the ruin of a defensive tower of Arab origin at the edge of Priego which was once part of the town’s old castle complex.

I’ve read that Priego is famous for the number of fountains across the town but I don’t think so and I suspect someone has confused this town’s fountains with those in Priego de Cordoba in Andalucia. This Priego is however famous for being the birthplace of Luis Ocana, the Spanish cyclist whose rivalry with the Belgian cyclist Eddie Merckx matched that of the motor racing rivalry between Nikki Lauda and James Hunt. Ocano led a hard and often troubled life (and wasn’t the luckiest competitor) but he won the Tour de France on one occasion although; Merckx didn’t compete that year.

Ours was a short visit to Priego. ewe’d spend more time in Beteta.

Canamares (Castila La Mancha), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Castila La Mancha is one of the least visited parts of Spain but it is up there with the best of the country’s Regions in terms of natural beauty. We were on our way from Madrid to Cuenca City in La Mancha (where we had booked a couple of nights in the NH Hotel) but; we had built in some time to spend a couple of nights beforehand at a campsite in the tiny village of Canamares. This would allow us to see a little more of the beautifully wild countryside that is Castila La Mancha.

We drove to Canamares by way of Sacedon in the Guadalajara Province of Castile La Mancha and this road took us across the top of the Embalse de Entrepenas dam. There’s a rest area on the south side of the dam and from there I was able to walk back along the top of the dam for some fine photo opportunities across the reservoir. This has to be one of the more attractive reservoirs in Spain but better was to come…

Canamares is tiny; just 582 people at the last count. It sits by the Rio Escabes in the Parque Natural Serrania de Cuenca and it is at the heart of what is known as the Ruta de Mimbre (the Wicker Route).

*The Rio Escabes (Canamares Beach) near our campsite*

The whole area is brimming with beautiful lakes, mountains, ravines and, surprise, surprise… the most gorgeous wicker! Yes, wicker, but this is not just any wicker. Wicker is made from various natural sources including cane and rattan (from palms), bamboo, reeds and of course willow. The wicker produced on the Ruta de Mimbre (which stretches 25 miles between the villages of Albalate de las Nogueres and Beteta) is obtained from a particular bush of the willow family and every winter (from late November onwards) it transforms the fields hereabouts into something quite unique and wholly spectacular.

*Canamares: Wicker fields a couple of months later*

The village is quiet and with few amenities. I noticed a small hotel, a general store, a bank, the village church and there must have been two or three bar-restaurants although only one bar was open when I visited. I didn’t bother with it. There is a bar-restaurant alongside the campsite which, although basic, seemed very popular with the locals (it was busy throughout the time we were there) and they offered simple rustic food which kept me happy, if not Vanya.

Despite it’s fairly large size, Camping La Dehesa was very quiet with just two or three other families staying over while we were there but, as stated previously, La Mancha doesn’t get too many tourists compared to the rest of Spain and we were well out of season. It didn’t bother us, it is a beautiful area and proved a fine place from which to explore a couple of other villages on the Ruta de Mimbre, notably Priega and Beteta.

Gargantilla del Lozoya (Comunidad Madrid), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

Bad weather was on it’s way. The tale end of Hurricane Helene, which had just hit Florida, was making it’s way across the Atlantic to Northern Spain. Having experienced quite enough rain on Tour 10 already we decided to drive south towards Castilla La Mancha. The weather forecast for that area was much better and, anyway, we had never been to that particular Region of Spain before.

On the way, still some 40 miles north of Madrid, we stopped at Gargantilla del Lozoya for the night. The full name of this small village is Gargantilla del Lozoya y Pinilla de Buitrago but you’ll understand if I refer to it simply as Gargantilla

We checked into the Camping Monte Holiday and I had it in mind to walk the few kilometres to the town of Lozoya on the Pinilla Reservoir. However, a couple of locals advised against it because of the threatened bad weather and instead; I made the much shorter walk along a dirt track road to the village of Gargantilla.

*The dirt track road to Gargantilla del Lozoya*…

*… and the map I had in case of difficulties*

It didn’t take more than half an hour to reach the village and I enjoyed the walk. The track was clear and there were sufficient reference points along the way (the reservoir and a railway line) to keep me on the right heading.

The village is small with just over 300 inhabitants and it holds little of interest other than a bus stop, a tiny church (Iglesia de San Benito) and a very friendly bar.

I sat in the bar nursing a couple of small beers for a good hour. It was fairly busy and there was a great atmosphere about the place. A group of four elderly men were playing small stakes dominoes at one of the tables and there were two other younger groups at the bar vying good naturedly with each other for the barmaid’s attention (or was it her company). The beer was good and a small tapas accompanied each drink. It was as good an example of a local bar as I have seen in Spain.

The walk back to the campsite was considerably quicker. I’d forgotten I had reserved a table in the campsite restaurant.

I made it back to the campsite in time and ordered a couple of drinks. I chose a beer while Vanya opted for Coca Cola. Those two drinks came to 5 Euros (with the coke costing more than the beer) but then some tapas arrived – 4 plates of tapas, free with the drinks. If they’d brought any more to the table, we would have had to cancel the meal; as it was we didn’t bother with a starter. Value for money or what!?!

Haro (La Rioja), Spain September 2024 (Tour 10)

And so to Haro; arguably Vanya’s favourite place in Spain.

This must have been our 4th or 5th trip to Haro in as many years. I’ll, therefore, keep this entry short. For more information on Haro you need only review my earlier blogs on the town.

We arrived in Haro this time during the late afternoon on a Wednesday and we found it the quietest we had ever seen it; not that I’m complaining. We divided our time that first evening on the Plaza de la Paz and wandering the tapas area before settling on an early night back at Campingred de Haro. I think the drive across Aragon had taken it out of me.

The next day was more like the usual Haro. The day commenced with us replenishing our supplies down at the Mercadona and then spending a leisurely hour or two over lunch in the courtyard of the Muga, sampling the wine and local cheeses (and some not very nice mussels but the less said about that the better). The Muga is fast becoming a regular feature of our visits to Haro and the afternoon was as pleasant an occasion as ever. We received a real surprise as we were leaving when one of the kitchen staff shouted out a goodbye to “Mr Bean” (Beanie). He remembered us from our previous visit to Haro in the Spring.

The Thursday evening was a repeat of the previous night with us dividing our time between Plaza de la Paz and the tapas area but it was an altogether livelier occasion. Of course it was a Thursday and, as in Calle del Laurel in Logrono, the locals tend to celebrate Thursdays with a few drinks and a tapas. It’s a bit like Thursdays in the UK used to be when most people received their pay packets on the Thursday afternoon. Showing my age now.

There were considerably fewer tourists in Haro during this visit and we spent much of the evening talking to the locals (Nala and her walking wheels attract a great deal of attention) and so it proved a late night. The streets were all but deserted as we made our way back to the Van after a very pleasant evening.