Cuenca cliffs

We wake this morning to weather that has become overcast and cool, with rain threatening. In spite of the weather, our plans are to walk the cliffs of the Jucar Gorge at Cuenca to the lookout point over the town. Not 5 metres from our hotel these plans seem thwarted by a fun run which has closed the roads up to our accommodation, which is 7 km out of town. The Guardia Civil explained this to us in his non existent English, and we comprehended it in our non existent Spanish. Philippa, where are you when we need you? (More of that later).

If you can’t beat them, join them, so we become spectators with all the locals, shouting, venga! (go), and other bits of Spanish, and clapping, which thankfully requires no language skills at all.

Finally, the road is open and we head into town, to try to park. Through more good luck than management, we manage to a) find the right road, b) find a free park, and c) find our walk, all with minimal fuss and bother. Phew.

We spend most of the morning walking up the Camino de San Julian del Tranquillo, to a vantage point high above the valley floor, with views up to the medieval village perched on the cliffs.

It is almost mid-day, and we can hear the sound of singing from the Sunday church services, and then at midday, all the church bells in Cuenca ring out for 5 minutes, echoing along the gorge, a surreal experience.

All along the path are wildflowers, red and orange poppies, white and yellow daisies, pink and white thyme, yellow euphorbia, and many other herbs. (J took 47 flower photos on this walk. I know this because I just counted them!)  We walked through pine forest on the heights, and poplar and may bush lower down.

M spends time admiring the skills of the rock climbers, in particular at a section where there are about 5 climbers in a row.  The locals are enjoying their Sunday walks, and plenty of road and mountain bikes are out. Its a really nice atmosphere.

 

Time to head off to Albarracin, our next port of call, via a very scenic road through the Serrania de Cuence, a large National Park of very wild country, with river gorges, cliffs and pine forest. We stop at the various lookout points along the way to admire the rugged country, though we don’t have time to do the walk in the so-called Enchanted Forest.

The weather is cooler but no rain yet and we make good time to Albarracin, which is a gorgeous small town built of pink/red rocks, with the most amazing castle walls enclosing the surrounding hills.

We are staying at a small hotel, with views of the pink stone castle. From our window, we can hear the constant sound of the small stream in the park opposite. Lovely, (except with the window open, we create a draught which pulls in the smell of cigarette smoke from the entire building – not pleasant. Obviously, the Spanish haven’t got the no-smoking message yet as it seems that the majority of the population smoke heavily, and everywhere).

Knowing that the Spanish eat late, we don’t rush out to dinner, only to find that by 9.15 the whole town seems deserted. We are obviously ahead of the main tourist season, but surely the locals have to eat somewhere? Finally, we spot two other people in this all but deserted town, and follow them along a narrow lane (this town is almost car free due to the steep site), and find a bar, the equivalent of the local pub, where the soccer is on the TV for the pleasure of the diners. It seems to be the only place open in town, and we do what the locals do, eat and watch the match (at least M does).

Fortunately, this menu has an English translation, so we have some idea what we are ordering. I ask the waiter how to pronounce the word for beer – who would have thought it was cerveza. We had tried beer, bier, birra, and beir all to no avail. Fortunately, white wine was pretty easy. I now can ask donde (that has come in handy – where), pan (bread), vino blanco, buenos dias e buenas tardes, muchos gracias (thank god for westerns with Mexicans but why don’t they talk more about food? We also know jamon, but don’t yet know cheese, or much other food. This is where we need Pip to help us eat. We might just come back shadows of our former selves.

Back to the hotel to research some Spanish before bed. Who said travel wasn’t educational?