More small plate therapy

We like the sherry triangle. Of course lots of tourists come here, nevertheless it does feel profoundly Andalusian, and though it's a much overused term the area feels authentic, or as Gill might put it 'has integrity'. I guess the area acquired its Pythagorean moniker because someone in somebody's marketing department noticed that the three towns near Cadiz famous for sherry production - Sanlúcar de Barrameda, Jerez de la Frontera and El Puerto de Sta María - formed a triangle. However this is equally true of any three places with something in common picked out on a map. So Toyota, Detroit and Cowley could be dubbed the petrol head triangle, Nazaré, Bondi Beach and Waikiki - surfers triangle... and so on.

To get pedantic about this, which I inevitably will given my propensity to wreck any amiable conversation by introducing spurious facts and my habit of slapping a dead cat or two on any table I happen to be sitting at, I feel I must point out that if you do draw a line around the area where the sherry bodegas are located it forms an irregular quadrilateral not a triangle. You can see why when I was in work my relationship with the Marketing Director became  somewhat strained.

In truth we are not staying at Camper Park Sanlucar because it's only a kilometer or two from the northwestern point of the mythical triangle. We are here because it's easily cyclable to Sanlucar heading west and Chipiona is equally accessible going east.

Both are lovely towns, Sanlucar is famous for Manzanilla, a dry sherry, Chipiona for a sweet sherry style wine made from the Moscatel de Alejandrí grape, one of the oldest varieties in existence. We have a favourite tapas restaurant in each place.

We headed to Bodega El Castillito in Chipiona first.

As the name suggests it is situated across the road from the town's small fortress. It is a bodega more than a restaurant specialising in a range of local moscatel wines.

Still, the tapas on offer is very good, though as one reviewer noted the portions are small, pinchos sized really, designed to be a snack to have with a drink. 

The place offers tostas too, which are a bit more substantial, so we ordered a tuna based tosta to beef things up, if it possible to do that to a fish.

We also needed a few groceries so afterwards we pedalled along the handsome seafront..

past Chipiona's impressive lighthouse...

before stocking up at Carrefour. Since our last trip I have swapped sherry allegiance. Having extolled the cool crisp flavours of fino for years I've developed a bit of a thing for oloroso, a darker more sumptuous proposition altogether. 

This one from Carrefour one was quite expensive, I don't tend to buy pricey things on a whim, but I did today.

Next day - back to Casa Balbino in Sanlucar. Another unassuming restaurant serving delicious food at affordable prices. 

Like Osteria del Orso in Bologna, Casa Balbino's reputation rests on serving traditional dishes at lunchtime to locals at prices that ensure it's busy every day. It attracts visitors too, not least because the place is well reviewed by Lonely Planet and listed third out of Sanlucar's 221 restaurants on TripAdvisor.

It's best to turn up a few minutes before the Spanish lunch break begins at 1pm, then the chances are you will get an outside table with a lovely view of Plaza del Cabildo's tall palm trees and beautiful fountain. 

Within ten minutes the place will be full and a queue of hopefuls forming near the entrance. There are twenty or so tables outside and at least as many inside near the bar. The staff are amazing, orders are taken, everyone gets served within a few minutes resulting in the happy hubbub of humans tucking into a good lunch.

The menu hasn't changed for years, nor it seems the prices. We opted to share two plates - pork loin with beer sauce and a tuna with potato dish.

With that we had a plate of croquettas each and glass of Manzanilla. 

Afterwards just sitting in the square for a while watching the world go by finished lunch off beautifully.

According to Chatgpt Andalusia has seven UNESCO World Heritage sites - I could have guessed most of them - The Alhambra, the Cathedrals of Seville and Cordoba, the Renaissance palaces of Baeza and Ubeda, Donana National Park. The Antequera Dolmens Site and Medina Azahara would not have sprung to mind. However I could have put our last half hour up there as an example of a more informal, 'world heritage'. Civilisation doesn't simply consist of big monuments but also a myriad of ordinary moments of civility, kindness and pleasure. If you visit the Alhambra you are struck by the grace and sophistication of a past culture; lunch out in sunny square in Spain reminds you that civilization manifests itself today in the commonplace as well as the exceptional.

Bodegas Hidalgo - La Gitana are a couple of minutes walk from Casa Balbino. I had plans to buy a bottle of their celebrated Manzanilla from the shop. Sadly the place was being refurbished. A hand written sign directed us to a temporary shop a few doors down, but we failed to find it. Instead we walked to the bike rack and pedalled back along the seafront.

Both here and in Chipiona yesterday municipal workers were out with mini-diggers removing tons of sand from the eplanades. Structures on the beach had been flattened. The severity of the winter storms that battered Iberia in the first few weeks of the year have been described as 'once in a lifetime events'. Let's hope they are, not signs of changing Atlantic weather patterns due to global warming.

Tomorrow we are moving on. Hopefully the weather will become more settled. We have had a sunny couple of days in the Sherry triangle but the forecast looks uncertain. One thing is for sure, sitting in a motorhome watching the rain come down is not why we run away to Spain in the winter.

Across the desert to the Sherry triangle

Our usual route south from Santander is to head straight for Salamanca then onwards to Seville and the Sherry triangle. However in the past two years stormy weather in the west of Iberia has resulted a big detour. Though heading to the Mediterranean via Valencia has its charms, the city itself is lovely and it's always a pleasure to spend a few days in the Cabo de Gata. Nevertheless, if our intention is to spend some time on Portugal's Alentejo coast, maybe even head north of Lisbon towards Obidos, then the journey via Valencia adds 400 miles to the trip and limits the time we have to spend in the far west.

There are two direct routes to get from the Cabo de Gata to Seville and the Sherry triangle. One follows the Mediterranean coast towards Gibraltar then onwards to Cadiz. The other goes across the arid 'badlands' on the northern side of the Sierra Nevada then southwards from Seville. They're roughly equidistant. We chose the inland route because it's quieter and avoids the complications of trying to find areas autocaravanas or campsites with available pitches on the crowded Costa Tropica and Costa del Sol.

North of Almeria the A92 crosses the Tabernas desert. Though much of southern Spain looks arid, this area is the only place in Europe that technically ticks all the boxes to be officially designated as a desert. Even if you have never visited Spain the chances are if you are aged over sixty you will recognise the landscape. It provides the backdrop for Sergio Leone's 'Spaghetti Westerns'. I am not sure if it really does looks like the' Wild West' or if we have simply been conditioned by the films into believing this is the case. Whatever the truth of the matter just driving through the rocky terrain almost guarantees being assailed by an Ennio Morricone earworm.  

Beyond the fractured rocky badlands the motorway crosses an arid, undulating plain. It's covered with a chequerboard of neat fruit tree plantations interspersed with solar farms. Low cliffs line the horizon to the north. Most are dotted with dozens of wind turbines. Over the past decade what were once empty uplands has become ever more productive.

The view southwards is even more spectacular, the snow covered peaks of the Sierra Nevada rise over 3000m. Mulhacén, at 3479m is the tallest mountain on the Iberian Peninsula, higher than any peak in the Pyrenees.

We planned to stay overnight at the area autocaravanas in the small city of Guadix. The place is famous for it's troglodyte dwellings hollowed out in the soft, fissured rock formations that surround the town. We've visited them previously so contented ourselves with a stroll into the city centre. Many Spanish cities have spectacular central squares. The one in Guadix is modest, it feels intimate and charming rather than grandiose.

Similarly the cathedral is quite understated, it's not some humongous Baroque monstrosity like so many in Spain, asserting a militant Counter-Reformation orthodoxy designed to subjugate the populace. 

In particular the plateresque carving had a rare lightness and delicacy. I found it pleasing.

The area autocaravanas occupies the corner of a big car park. Aside from Saturdays when a market occupies the area, there is plenty of 'overspill space' if the designated motorhome bays get full.

Using the inland route west definitely makes much more sense than the busy coastal route where there's always a nagging doubt about getting a place to stay overnight.

Next day we decided to head for another free stopover at Osuna, this time on the corner of the Family Cash hypermarket carpark. It's not a long drive - 213km - but like yesterday it passes through strikingly different landscapes. Between Guadix and the northern suburbs of Granada the A92 reaches 1390m. making Puerto de la Mora Spain's highest motorway pass.

Beyond the Granada there is a stretch of flatter ground near the airport before you reach an extensive area of undulating hills covered with olive trees. In between them big spiky outcrops dot the landscape, maybe extinct volcanoes we speculated. The scale of the plantations is remarkable, but not entirely unexpected given that Spain produces 40% of the world's olive oil.

Osuna is a classic Andalusian 'pueblo blanco'. For a medium sized town it has more than it's fair share of significant monuments. In the sixteenth century it was an important centre of power and learning. In Renaissance Spain that meant one thing - lots of big churches, monasteries and convents. Later it became associated with secular learning, local 'men of lettters' based in the Baroque palacio's built by the town's aristocratic families exchanged ideas with others across Counter Reformation Europe, a kind of mini-enlightenment developed under the watchful eye of the Inquisition. We've visited the town a few times. Whether it was the lingering effects of the virus or sightseeing fatigue, this time we got no further than the Family Cash car park!

After two free stopovers on the trot it was time rest for a couple of days somewhere we could get the outside furniture out and put our feet up. It's less than two weeks since we arrived in Santander and I've driven almost 1000 miles. Rushing about is not why we do this. So we decided to spend a couple of days at Camping Pueblo Blanco a couple of kilometres from Olvera.

The place is one of a handful of camp sites in Andalusia's rural hinterland that remain open all year. It is situated about 50 kilometres south of Osuna - an hour away. This involved driving through hill country on the 'yellow' road marked on our Michelin road atlas. I usually avoid these, but having checked the bendy bits on Google street view it looked easy enough. In the main it was, the only tricky bits were single file sections and short unmetalled stretches due to landslips resulting from Spain's six week long downpour in the early weeks of the year.

It's a very pleasing landscape hereabouts, craggy peaks and little valleys. A picturesquely situated parking place allowed us to pull over and take a photo or two. I usually avoid using the panorama feature on my phone as they seldom do justice to the view, but maybe this time...

We arrived at Camping Pueblo Blanco a little after midday. The place wasn't as busy as last year so we had a choice of pitches. Most people head up towards the top of the terraced site where you get a great view towards the mountains near Ronda. However the pitches are exposed and it's a steep road to cycle up and down. We opted to be Billy No mates on the lower pitches.

We  offloaded the bikes and head into the town. There's a cycleway most of the way, it's not particularly well maintained but preferably to riding on the main road. Olvera is spectacularly situated on a craggy ridge. I stopped to take a photo.

 By the time I had faffed about waiting for a traffic free shot Gill was out of sight. I caught up with her parking her bike by some railings, exactly where we had left them last year.

People were standing about in gaggles, many in fancy dress. It transpired we had just missed Olvera's carnival. The main parade had kicked off at 11am. and apparently just finished in the early afternoon. 

We had now managed to miss two carnival processions, here and in Aguillas.

However, the celebrations continued informally. A small flat-bed truck squeezed it's way through the narrow streets. Two enormous black stacks and a mean subwoofer were strapped to the back. Behind them two guys manned the desk blasting out Big Bunny at a trillion decibels. 

Following them was a tightly packed throng, a crowd of partying people. They were very jolly, drinking what looked like Manzanilla from pint sized plastic tumblers As the crowd passed us we were absorbed into it and swept along. It's difficult to find the right word to describe the vibe - some kind of sweet spot between exultant and exuberant, everyone in their happy place, including the pair of us. 

The dancers moved forward a little quicker than us, so inexorably we drifted towards the back of the procession. The rear of the party was followed by half a dozen municipal workers in hi-viz with brushes and wheelie bins and a mini street cleaning truck brushing up the ticker tape and litter. A few minutes after the moveable dance party passed-by the gleaming white streets were returned to their habitual pristine state. I have no idea where British prejudice about Spain's 'mañana' culture originated. In our experience stuff gets done in Spain straightaway, efficiently, usually with good humour and a smile. Is that generally the case back home?

Almost every building in Olvera is gleaming white apart from the church and Arabic castle right at the top of the craggy escarpment that the old town occupies. After the excitement of the post carnival dance party we decided to leave climbing up there until tomorrow.

The place was almost deserted when we returned the next day. I guess after the exuberance of yesterday it was time for a communal lie-in. 

The climb up to the square beside the church is steep but the vista across the cuboid rooftops of the old town towards the olive green hills beyond makes the effort worthwhile. Literally, a breathtaking view!

The appearance of the church flummoxed me. Art history made up most of the modules of my first degree so I should be able to date most of the buildings I come across reasonably accurately. In the case of Olvera's church I managed to get it wrong by 200 years! 

Compared to many of the major churches in Andalusia the exterior of the one in Olvera is simple and undecorated. I concluded that it might be because it was an example of early Renaissance architecture, perhaps around the early sixteenth century, predating the flashier, humongous Baroque churches of Counter-Reformation Spain. This would have made sense if I had been in Tuscany, but not in Andalusia. In fact the big church that dominates Olvera's skyline was begun in the 1780s and completed half a century later. It's an expression of the Spanish Enlightenment not militant Catholicism. Sometimes getting things wrong can be positive. I ended up reading an interesting Wikipedia piece about the Jesuits and their role in fighting the enslavement of native people in South America.

Camping Pueblo Blanco is a delightful spot. It's our third visit here. Ever time we've had spectacular sunsets and night skies like a planetarium.

Next day we headed for a Camperstop situated between Sanlucar de Barrameda and Chipiona. It's a couple of hours drive and having made the detour south to Olvera it meant we avoided the busy urban motorways around Seville. Camper Park Sanlucar is a bit rough and ready, but it's inexpensive and the people who run it are welcoming. Even better, it's equidistant between Sanlucar and Chipiona and there are safe cycleways and minor roads to both towns. They're both lovely places but in truth it's the tapas that draws us there.

Los Escullos: empty landscape, crowded campsite

Spain's Mediterranean coastline is about 750 miles long. Most of it is highly developed, a semi-urbanised sprawl interspersed with spectacular headlands or salt flats with a mountainous backdrop. Human culture prevails, only here and  there has the natural environment been afforded a measure of protection from economic development. Most protected areas are quite small, such as  Monte de las Cenizas y Peña del Águila Regional Park east of Cartegena or Acantilados de Maro-Cerro Gordo near Nerja. Both are beautiful but are patches of wildness rather than an extensive protected area like a National Park or AONB in the UK.

Undeveloped coastlines are rare among Spain's 'costas' but there are a few places where it is still possible to get a sense of being 'lost in nature'. The Catalan coast from Port Bou at the French border and around the Bay of Roses is not completely over-developed.  Also the coastal path running from Lloret de Mar to Tossa de Mar feels 'far from the madding crowd'. South of Peniscola Parc Natural de la Serra d'Irta is an extensive tract of hilly garrigue stretching 10kms along the pristine coastline. There's one campsite in the middle  of the park down a rough track. Sadly it's not quite far enough south to be comfortable in February.

However by far the biggest protected area on Spain's Mediterranean coast is the Cabo de Gata west of Almeria. The area's unique geology has led to it being designated as a UNESCO Geopark. The rugged volcanic hills made agriculture challenging so it remained sparsely populated for centuries. Even today there is only one settlement that could be considered  big enough to be a town - San José. 

Development within the park is strictly controlled. Up until recently in the winter months there was only one campsite open at Los Escullos. A couple of years ago the Wecamp chain opened another at Las Negras. Both are well situated to explore the Cabo de Gata's unique landscape.

Los Escullos campsite was crowded, yet within a couple of minutes we could wander up a track and feel immersed in nature amid a stony garrigue  carpeted with yellow flowers. 

Gill recognised the buttercup sized one - Cape Sorrel. The smaller one we weren't sure about. In late winter this landscape always blooms with herbs and flowers, but we've never seen such a spectacular display as today. I suspect Iberia's stormy January has soaked the usually arid Cabo de Gata creating the sea of yellow.

It's a magnificent, uplifting landscape - a soulful place. We need them these days as the world grows ever more uncertain and evil men prevail.

Next day we unloaded the bikes and pedalled down to the shore. It's less than ten minutes away. Coastal erosion had uncovered the layers of the Capo de Gata's complicated geological history. The bedrock is volcanic, laid down in a shallow sea between 9 - 15 million years ago. There followed a further period of intense eruptions that formed the chain of caldera and volcanic plugs we can see now. The last eruptions are thought to be 5 million years ago.

Down by the shore the strata of the low cliffs reveal the remnants of other geological ages. A layer of oolitic limestone...

Fossilized dunes, wind sculpted into surreal forms over millennia, lie behind the shingle beach. 

Whereas  most European landscapes tell the story of humanity the narrative here is dominated by the inexorable progress of geological time. The dark volcanic hills of Los Escullos assert that life on our home planet prevailed long before we arrived and will continue to do so long after we have gone.

What makes humans unique is, as far as we know, we are the only thinking beings that exist right now. Killing each other and deliberately making Earth less habitable for our species does bring into question just how intelligent we actually are! Professor Brian Cox makes the point better than I ever could.

The scrub land behind the beach was covered with the same mix of yellow flowers that we found on the lower slopes of the hills yesterday. We've been here before in mid-February. Spring flowers are not unusual, but previously they've been more mixed. I came across a patch of asphodels on a rocky outcrop amongst the sea of yellow.

This pleased me. Asphodels are one of my favourite flowers, not only are they beautiful but their name is pleasing and they have mythical connotations.

On our final day we decided to pedal to the small fishing village of La Isleta del Moro. As the crow flies it's only about two kilometres across the bay. By road it's about three times the distance. Hardly challenging, but there are a couple of steep climbs, and though it was windless in the campsite on the exposed coast road we were buffeted by a chilly wind blowing in from the northeast. 

While we mooched around the quayside the wind strengthened from an annoying breeze to a near gale. Struggling against it on our return, I ended up having to pedal downhill!

Checking back it seems we first stayed in Los Escullos twelve years ago. I remarked back then that it was a quiet place that attracted hikers. There's still a few of them striding off, walking poles in hand, to explore one of the many trails that snake between the gaunt calderas. However these days the site is pitched to attract long stayers, more caravanners than motorhomers. It means there aren't so many pitches left for people touring. Moreover the access roads between the pitches are narrow so manoeuvring into them can be challenging even in a medium sized motorhome.

If you do book in for the duration - I overheard an English caravanner a few pitches down from us explaining that he was here for 60 days 'as usual' - then there's lots of organised activities - Fish and Chips every Thursday night, a weekly quiz night, 'gentle aerobics'... and so on. Sixty days! It sounds like a sentence! If we do return again to the Cabo de Gata then the site at Las Negras is more to our taste. Los Escullos has become charmless as Saga cruise. Such a beautiful place, but the campsite is crowded, over- organised, and its ambiance somewhat geriatric.

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