We never planned to get this close to the border with Catalonia, it makes no sense whatsoever given we are heading for Santander. However, now we are well to the north of Valencia the question becomes, where next? We originally had a plan to spend the final couple of weeks exploring the Via Verde that runs south from Haro in Rioja, then have a day or two in Bilbao before catching the ferry. However the forecast for the north of Spain remains mixed with temperatures ten degrees colder than here on the Mediterranean coast.
"What about revisiting Tarragona and then heading back through Huesca and Pamplona?" Gill suggested. It was a good plan, especially as we had not been to Tarragona for years, perhaps in 2009 we speculated. It seems like a long way round, I pondered. So in the end we decided to go back to Betera, visit Valencia, then spend a few days at Navajas where we could cycle on the Via Verde Ojos Negras. It was only later that I worked out that the Tarragona/Huesca route would actually have been shorter.
However we are never going to regret revisiting Valencia's Market Bar. In fact it's more or less all we do these days in Valencia. Hop onto the metro...
head into the city and walk to the market..
inside...
then find the bar...
choose lunch...
anchovies on a fresh cheese base, similar to ricotta....
patatas bravas (not any old ones, definitely a bit 'cheffy')...
pork meat balls in a curry sauce with lots of mint and peanuts...
pud (cheese cake, very luscious)...
Then just wander about, buy a few things, and take pictures of the glorious produce...
...then head back to the metro, Valencia, tick!
This trip we arrived as usual at Àngel Guimerà metro station in the heart of the old city. Rather than catch the metro back from there we decided to cut across to the Turia stop.
This took us beyond the old city walls and through the crescent shaped park that follows the old course of the river Turia which was redirected last century to protect Valencia from flooding.
The city has many grand buildings from the middle ages to modern. However the place is not a museum, it's youthful, vibrant and a bit grungy in places. Consequently it has fabulous graffiti, almost as good (or bad!) as Naples.
Alongside the metro...
decorating shop's metal shutters....
and embellishing mundane street furniture with impromptu intimate advice...
In the end, despite the fridge glitch we did manage our trip to Valencia. Neither of us are 'city people'. More often than not I find them demoralising, but there are exceptions and for us Valencia is one of them.
Even so, it felt good to be heading up the A23 towards Navajas. The Altamira campsite is an outdoorsy sort of place next to the Via Verde de Ojos Negras. As well the cycle track there is a beautiful walk down a limestone gorge to a notable waterfall. The last time we were here in November 2014, after the summer dry season the cascade was somewhat underwhelming, this time, in springtime, we were hoping for a more spectacular display.
The site is terraced and the connecting roads very steep indeed, in fact it appears to have become much more vertiginous in the intervening eight years since our last visit. This is something we have noted throughout Southern Europe recently, the same is true for steps and staircases. I don't understand what is going on, it's probably due to some weird new EU regulations, thank goodness for Brexit.
In the Spring the area is delightful, though actually getting onto the via verde from the site can be a challenge. The bike track runs parallel to the back of the site but the unmetalled road to it is very steep, impossible to cycle-up, and very hard-going to push a heavy e-bike up the slope. It would have been very frustrating to be so close to trail but unable to find a way onto it. Another option was to cycle about a kilometre along the road from the campsite to the motorway junction where a minor road off the roundabout intersected with the Via Verde, it was still uphill but it didn't look like quite so brutal a climb.
Gill had Aran sweater rows to do so I offered to reconnoitre the route in preparation for a longer cycle ride tomorrow. Actually, I had an ulterior motive. The last time we were here I remembered taking some photographs of a giant cube-like blue warehouse. Back then I had just completed my MA dissertation. The main part was a bog standard 20,000 word thesis, but the University' of Derby's Masters course allowed me to submit a parallel 'creative project'. It involved an exploration in prose, verse, photography and video of the Midlands section of the A38 trunk road (a bit niche!).One thing I became slightly obsessed with was the architecture of distribution centres. These days they are common place, but nine years ago it seemed novel to have gigantic windowless structures plonked in the middle of the landscape, visually striking like something Anthony Gormely might dream-up. My favourite was the gigantic square box belonging to Argos near Burton on Trent, until I came across an even bigger and more alluring azure blue box next to the A23 on the outskirts of Segorbe, in other words just down the road from where we are staying now.
Today dawned beautifully warm. The last time we we here it was late autumn, clear but chilly. Now feels almost summery and the the Via Verde lovelier than I remembered.
But appreciating the beautiful countryside was not my main concern. It was this....
I really do think it is a hauntingly beautiful building, so of our time. Chartre Cathedral expresses how religion was central to medieval culture, Versailles the secular heft of the Divine Right, but this obscure giant blue box is a fitting icon of our culture, driven by a Faustian pact between consumerism and global capitalism.
I love the juxtaposition of the building with the olive trees.
Of course the thing only becomes truly magical when the sky is blue, in dull weather it is just another big warehouse. I suppose I should stop posting pictures of it now, I took about a dozen!
Next day we headed both headed up the trail in the opposite direction. Again it was a warm spring day. Because the old line runs along a contour about halfway up the valley side you get great views of the craggy hills and the embalse del Regajo.
The ride takes you through beautiful woods and remote valleys.
There are a few tunnels, none of them very long, but quite primitive, roughly hewn through bare rock.
We cycled as far as the next town, Jerica, or at least the site of its disused station.
The round trip was about 20kms, once you factored in the steep slope up to the Via Verde then back up to our pitch then I think it counted as enough activity for one day.
The other notable site in Navajas is the Salto de la Novia. As I mentioned previously the famous waterfall was a mere trickle the last time we were here. This time we hoped for the full works, especially as it's a short but challenging hike.
There and back is less than 4km. but the way involves steep climbs over uneven ground, on the edge of what Gill should be doing given the condition of her knee It was worth it, the falls were in full flow.
The river Palancia is beautiful too, with mirror-like pools and small cascades and a number of 'fuentes', natural springs that had been tapped as sources of mineral water
The gorge itself has spectacular limestone formations where the petrified roots of ancient tree form intriguing patterns on the fissured cliff faces.
As for the Navajas itself, there is nothing remarkable about it, a typical small town with an ancient centre, but it is in a lovely setting.
The campsite is good too, very steeply terraced, not an issue for people a couple of decades younger than us, not impossible for us either right now, but I could see how it easily could become so.
The place is part of the Caravan Club's 'prepaid overnight stop vouchers' appealling to British travellers who like to go somewhere recommended, attracting fellow club members who are similarly minded. There were clusters of them dotted about the site being chatty and sociable. I am truly terrible at small talk, luckily we had been given a pitch some distance from the part of the foreign field that is 'forever England'.
We were parked next to a couple from Bavaria. Their English was limited but they were amiable. He was a bit of an Anglophile. Over the course of a few halting conversations we learned he loved the Royal Family especially 'Lady Di', was very sympathetic over the our recent loss (Queen's death), and couldn't understand Brexit at all because there wasn't 'one good thing about it'. Well at least there was one thing we could agree about!
He was in his early seventies, but quite spritely. When he told me he was a master baker by trade it didn't surprise me. He had an interesting, lively face with a very well trimmed mustache. So it came as bit of surprise when he became quite excited and spoke at length of his lifelong love of the Rolling Stones. Then almost as an afterthought.. alzo Barclay James Harvest...
Later Gill mused, what was their famous song, 'Mockingbird'? I nodded, and 'Galadriel', that was another one I added. This gem of prog-rock trivia proved fateful, for days snippets of 'Galadriel' have plagued me, especially the descending cadence that ended with the phrase, 'Oh what it is to be young...' its so bloody infuriating, it won't go away.
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