Shorter not quicker.

The fastest way to get from where we are - parked on the shores of Embalse de Alange - to where we want to be - Isla Cristina at the western end of the Costa de la Luz - would be to take the motorway directly south to Seville then west to Huelva. After two days of occasionally twitching the steering wheel while the van trundled ever southwards at 60mph on autopilot, I decided I needed to drive the thing for a bit. So we opted to take a more direct route, cross country from Zafra, directly to Huelva over the Sierra de Arcena using the N435.

In fact we drove this route in the opposite direction homewards in March 2015, I remembered it being an inspiring drive,  mountainous and a tad bendy, but beautiful, through wooded hill country with occasional vistas of jagged blue peaks in the distance. It was true, that is exactly how it looked today, empty of traffic too. It sounds idyllic, and it is mostly; the aspect of it I had conveniently forgotten is how potholed the road was. 

We rattled across it in 2015, in the intervening time the road surface has suffered another four winters of frosty weather degrading it further. 'This is as bad as Portugal,' we muttered, as the crockery clanked in the cupboards and wine glasses tinkled like annoying tinnitus. 

Lovely though the scenery was, in fact the most enjoyable moment was when we stopped. The time before, we grabbed a quick lunch break in Fregenal de la Sierra. We remembered admiring the old white town on the hill from the car park and promising ourselves that if we ever returned we would explore it further - and here we are!

There is always something intriguing about these remote old country towns. The big castle and the complex of ecclesiastical monuments next to it hinted that once it may have been a more significant place than now. The castle in particular looked as if it had Moorish origins, but at some point seemed to have bee integrated partly into the monastery or convent next to it.

The place's charm was not only to be found in august edifices of historical significance, the narrow streets and alleys were beautiful too. Also more recent buildings like the art deco cinema featured some truly lovely tile work.

If staring at buildings isn't  your thing, then the antics of the storks nesting on the church towers provide alternative entertainment. 

Also, had we not just had a picnic lunch we may well have been tempted to sample  the  jamon Iberica on offer at the bodega in the square. Where this part of southern Extramadura borders with Andalucia is particularly famous for the quality of its local ham. Each village seems to have a  small factory or two dedicated to 'Iberico'. The mystery is, there is not a pig to be seen in the fields. Though the producers may espouse 'traditional methods' in big letters on the sides of their 'hammeries', sadly I suspect the farmers don't bother and their pigs never see the light of day..

It's been another interesting journey, but we were glad to reach Isla Cristina and the promise of staying put for a few days. Even better, on Andalucia's coastal plain the late afternoon temperature notched up to 19°. After week relaxing in the winter sun, we plan to head to the far west of Portugal, a little further than we had originally planned. That's the problem with roads, they always go that extra mile and it feels impolite not follow them