Almost always our trips are planned, we sketch an approximate itinerary before we set out. Though we rarely stick to it exactly, changing our plans if a rainy spell is forecast, but in general we know roughly where we are headed. There have been exceptions, like a couple of years ago when we set out for the Italian Lakes but instead of heading next to Tuscany and Umbria ended up in the Costa Brava! This trip is turning out to be even more haphazard, We knew we wanted to go to the Languedoc then onwards to the Girona province of the Costa Brava. Otherwise the need to present ourselves at Santander ferry terminal seventeen days hence on the 25th of October is our only certainty.
From the campsite by the Embalse de Negretin we headed back to the A91 motorway and drove west towards Lorca. Spain must have the most varied topography in Europe, arid deserts, fertile plains, mighty rivers, towering mountains and bleak badlands that look like somewhere in Utah. That's just in Andalucia! The north coast is like Devon on steroids, inland Valenciana at times resembles Tuscany, whereas the boxy white fishing villages of Cabo de Gata are reminiscent of the Peloponnese.
Gill is great at interpreting the landscape as we drive through it. She trained as a Geography teacher though never got to practice the subject. Instead she worked in special schools assessing children with moderate learning difficulties, then later in adult basic education and finally managed Adult Education centres. Nevertheless she can still interpret landforms and articulate how the underlying geology, volcanology and hydrology shapes what what we see, and in Spain topography is writ large.
The autovia between Baza and Lorca snakes its way between mountains, some over 2000m high, their peaks show clear signs of ancient glaciation. We looked up the area's geological history later. This area of Spain is interesting in so much as it lies at the southern edge of the ice cap that covered most of Europe until 20,000 years ago. Though the highest peaks of the Sierra Nevada were fully glaciated, the mountains to the north between Baza and Lorca experienced intermittent periods of freeze and thaw - this is called peri-glaciation apparently. A new word to me - always good!
At a lower altitude the rocks are much softer, limestone and marls mainly, and the area is famous for cave dwellings. The origin of these is interesting. The geology was created tens of millions of years ago when the entire region was covered by an enormous lake. Eventually river systems formed and the lake drained into the sea, leaving a deep strata of sediments. The caves however are largely man-made, hewn from the soft clays and crumbly marls by human activity. In fact the area has a remarkable history of occupation by our distant forbears. Fragments of a skull found in the area is a million years old, pre-dating modern humans' arrival by many hundreds of thousands of years. Neanderthals too lived here from around 200,000 BCE. until superceded by modern humans' around 45,000 years ago. You don't need a TARDIS for time travel, just a bit of research on Wikipedia and Chatgpt and you can drive through the distant past as you scoot up the motorway. Well you can when you have the motorway to yourself as is often the case on a Spanish autovia away from urban areas or the Mediterranean coast.
At Lorca we turned north using smaller roads. We had an idea that it would be fun to cycle on the Vias Verdes del Noroeste, the bike track that runs from the outskirts of Murcia to Caravaca de la Cruz. We've covered the central section around Bullas and Mula, but not the western end of track. So we headed to the area autocaravanas at Cehegin. It had received positive reviews on Searchforsites, but when we arrived the town itself looked dismal and the parking area was down a narrow lane behind a big garage. So we headed towards Mula instead. We've used the designated parking area behind the town's swimming pool before, it's a tad basic but serviceable. When we arrived we were the only ones, but later another moho turned up. It's probably irrational, but I always feel a tad insecure when we're on our own.
In the end we didn't do the bike ride. We woke up the following morning to a beautiful blue sky and temperatures back in the low thirties. It seemed that the heat wave was stalking us. In these conditions the most comfortable place is in the cab, driving along with the Aircon on full blast. So we set off with a vague aim to drive towards Albacete. Maybe we'll stop overnight at Chinchilla de Montearagon I speculated. It's a beautiful small town a few kilometres south east of Albacete. We stayed there back in October 2017, a memorable moment not just because of the town's splendid architecture but also it was the place where I had an unforgettable encounter with a super-bunny.
If yesterday's journey was all about glaciated landscapes, on today's drive northwards up the A30 from Murcia to Albacete the view out the windscreen today was distinctly volcanic. Around Cancarix we passed a series of low cones that looked like gigantic molehills. It was Gill that pointed them out, I do try to keep my eyes on the road even when the scenery is spectacular. We wondered were these the remnants of one big volcanic event or evidence of volcanism over millennia?:
Once again, Chatgpt to the rescue. I am unsure where I stand on the question of the moment - does AI present an existential threat to the future of humanity? The disturbing truth of the matter is that by the time we've worked out the answer AI may well have evolved beyond our ability to control it. Still, if you are an inquisitive kind of person even in its current semi-evolved state it has the capacity to answer whatever burning question happens to be bugging you, which in this case happened to be were the volcanic cones next to the motorway in the middle of nowhere between Murcia and Albacete the result of one big event or lots of smaller ones over a long time? Chatgpt's response -
Cancarix is not just a single extinct volcano. It forms part of a group of volcanic manifestations in this part of southeastern Spain.
The activity occurred roughly 8.3–6.7 million years ago, in the Late Miocene.
The rocks are unusually ultrapotassic lamproites. The local variety is called cancalita.
The famous Cancarix feature is actually the solidified volcanic conduit/dome exposed by erosion, rather than an intact cone.
The volcanic manifestations extend towards La Celia, across the Murcia/Albacete border. Geological descriptions specifically refer to the Cancarix–El Salmerón–La Celia volcanic region.
So if what you saw was a landscape containing several small, rounded volcanic-looking hills/cones, rather than the dramatic crag of Cancarix itself, you were probably looking at part of this Late-Miocene volcanic province around Cancarix and El Salmerón.
And 02499 is indeed the postal area around Cancarix, so your recollection fits extremely well. �
guiarepsol.com
The prompt I had given was this general question -
"What is the name of the area of small extinct volcanic cones to be found in the north of Murcia province?' Then give my virtual friend the more specific location of 'Cancarix' as my best guess of where we were when Gill pointed out the unusual volcanic cones. It is impressive not only what AI can do but also how it responds positively to your prompt. That's the sneaky bit, the positive strokes with an offer at the end to dig a bit deeper. Over recent months I may have rid myself of all social media apart from YouTube and Substack, but if you are quizzically minded Chatgpt has the capacity to become equally addictive.
We stopped at a petrol station on the Albacete ring road for a fill-up and a late lunch. The question we should have been thinking about was not the finer points of north Murcian geology but where exactly were we going to sleep tonight. We'd sailed past the turn-off to Chinchilla so kind of dismissed that possibility by default. Instead we turned north east on the N322 which connects Albacete to the hill country on the border of Castille La Mancha and the northern area of Valencia provinces.
Albacete sits in the middle of an enormous beige coloured plain, the one in Spain that the rain is mainly meant to fall on. It doesn't! Driving eastwards across it you do glimpse smokey blue Sierras on the horizon. They mark the valley of Rui Cabriol which forms the border with Valencia province.
This Valencian hill country looks very different to either the bleak plains of Castille La Mancha or the palm trees and orange groves of Valencia's littoral. In fact the area looks more like Tuscany or Umbria with clumps of Mediterranean pines lining the road side and small valleys covered in vineyards and olive trees.
Pantile roofed farmsteads surrounded by slender dark green cypresses complete the Italianate illusion.
It's quite remote, places to stay are few and far between.We decided to head to Kiko Park Rural in the Utiel/Requina wine area. It's a big site by an embalse offering water sports and outdoors pursuits as well as camping bungalows and one of the few places that operates all year. We stayed here in October 2018 around this time of year, coinciding with Valencia province's national day. So we know it can get somewhat raucous, but really there is no other option apart from area autocaravanas without facilities. We need a laundry and a service point, so Gill phoned ahead to book us in.
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