The city of Burgos lies between Madrid and Santander, in the Castille y Leon region, and has a population of about 180,000 (a little less than Portsmouth).
El Cid was born near Burgos, lots of the roads are named after him, he is buried in the cathedral.
El Cid
The Museum of Human Evolution was brilliant, we spent many hours but only covered two floors out of the five, so we hope to return on our way home. It features the fossils of the first humans who lived in the area 750,000-800,000 years ago. These children were very intrigued!
But the most important building in Burgos is the cathedral, the largest in Spain and equally ornate inside and out.
Burgos cathedral is the largest in SpainCharles or Harry?We witnessed three weddings on Saturday 8 October
There were lots of bronze statues around Burgos.
We loved the atmosphere in Burgos, we visited the city three times, and three times we said we could live here. The away team fans were in town all day waiting for kick off at 8pm, it was a joy to see them drinking and enjoying themselves.
But what we enjoyed the most was witnessing the Sunday activities of relaxing with friends and family, even if it meant arriving on horseback.
BURGOS TO VILLAFRANCA MONTES DE OCA – 43 miles return
From our lovely leafy campsite near Burgos, Camping Fuentes Blancas (22euros), we cycled east along the bank of the Rio Arlanzon and joined the Camino going contraflow. Unfortunately the Trail was right next to a main road for the first few miles, with lorries thundering past. It didn’t take us long before the Camino forked off into the hills, but we felt sorry for the walkers who would have spent much longer next to the traffic before arriving at Burgos.
This is the first time we’ve experienced this and we are now more than a third of the way along The Way, 175 miles from St Jean Pied de Port and 308 miles from Santiago de Compostella. Between cities, most of the Camino has been through the Spanish countryside.
Our ride took us past Yacimientos de Atapuerca, an archeological site where human remains were found dating to more than 1 million years ago. (We saw the exhibits in the Museum of Human Evolution in Burgos.)
Then we headed into the countryside and the hills, through forests and finally came to a memorial to 300 people who were executed by Franco’s supporters at the beginning if the Civil War in 1936.
After spending some time and thoughts about these atrocities, we made a huge detour to avoid navigating a very steep rocky hill with our bikes. This took us down a track which felt like no one had encountered for a long time, thick woods to both sides where it felt like bears and wolves could be lurking. And then Penny ran over an old rusty piece of barbed wire, she sped off hoping and praying it hadn’t caused a puncture as we were now an hour late for Jessie. Fortunately no puncture materialised, and after half an hour we saw a combine harvester in the distance cutting sunflowers. What a relief!
The rest of the ride was at break neck speed to get back before Jessie woke up and started barking for her food.
Outskirts of Burgos near our campsiteWe had a chat with some donkeys along the wayPeregrinos resting in the shade
Alternative route through Sierra de la Demanda and round Reservoir Uzquiza – 43 miles
There were no campsites or aires along the Camino between Santo Domingo de la Calzada and Burgos, so we did a bit of a detour into the mountains where we found an aire opposite a bar where we stayed for two nights and cycled around.
Village name on the sports facility was bigger than the village!Sandra and Fernando who own the village bar
Santo Domingo de la Calzada to Belorado – 35 miles return
Santo Domingo was an 11th century hermit who built a hospital, church and a bridge to aid the pilgrims crossing the Rio Oja. He also performed some miracles including bringing back to life two chickens whilst they were being cooked! Thereafter two white chickens, a hen and a rooster, have lived in the cathedral close to the tomb of Santo Domingo, in the town named after him.
There were some beautiful mosaics in the crypt of the cathedral.
The ride along the Camino to Belorado was almost entirely beige – huge fields of stubble, large areas of dried grass, dried up river beds and the gravel and stoney Camino.
Lady barbecuing red peppers ready for the pilgrimsWe met Michelle from BrazilBelorado churchPeregrinos from Italy sheltering from the sunBelorado graffiti
SANTO DOMINGO DE LA CALZADA TO VENTOSA – 34 miles return
The scenery of vineyards and olive groves has become so commonplace that we barely notice it as we cycle along.
It was a hot day today, 28 degrees by 4pm, so we set off at 9am, earlier than usual, to get back for Jessie by 1pm, before the camper got too hot.
Our campsite is huge, but there’s just ourselves and a Dutch couple here. Besides camping pitches, there are also lots of chalets and interesting cabins and a water flume with three shoots that end on concrete 🫤
Having a nibble of the vinesAnother Jessie dog coming for a strokeNajeraStatue pilgrims in NajeraRio NajerilloPilgrims on the Camino near NajeraA bici-peregrino from CubaTrailer full of red grapesGrape harvesters having a restA puncture 3 miles from the end
It’s harvest time in Rioja, so we are taking a short break from the Camino to visit Elciego and its bodega, Valdelana.
A fancy hotel which looks like a theme park ride stands in contrast to the ancient townWe spent a lovely evening with Chris and Joanne from Lancashire who built their own camper. This is them beside a_van_called_dignity
This was our first warm day on the Camino. It was still cool when we set off but soon warmed up, and we returned in 22 degrees.
A gentle ascending Camino trail took us around the shore of a large lake at Grajera, then on to the hillside town of Navarrette where the church was being prepared for a wedding. This included the orchestra’s rehearsal of Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’ – a bit ominous for a wedding!
We met Katie and Geoff from New York at the cafe in Navarrete. On the way back to Logrono we passed Esther and Laurence who are cycling from Belgium to Cadiz and are camping in a tent each night. Respect.
Christian Pilgrims make stick crosses along this part of the CaminoFirst Osborne sherry bull of this trip NavarreteNavarrete is famous for its potteryKatie and GeoffEsther and Laurence
It was just a 10 minute walk along the tree-lined bank of the Ebro, with the fluttering of silver and green leaves, over the pedestrian bridge, and into the city. The Museum of Rioja was worth the visit, as was the cathedral where a Michelangelo painting of Christ was hidden. But the city’s contemporary art included bronze statues and graffiti which was everywhere.
Logrono’s own camino scallop shell logo Statue of Pilgrims Rio Ebro flows through Logrono which enabled the Romans to come inland and plant grape vines in what is now the Rioja region
We are now one week into Our Camino from the French Pyrenees and have clocked just over 100 miles of the 500 mile route to Santiago de Compostella. As we are doing return journeys from and to the camper each day, we have cycled 200 miles this week.
We are currently staying on a lovely little campsite on the bank of the Rio Ebro in the city of Logrono, which is in the Rioja region. Today we cycled back contraflow along the Camino to Sansol, where we finished cycling last time. Our route took us along the Ebro to Viana and then past hectares and hectares of vineyards and olive groves.
The weather was changeable, drizzle, rain, heavy rain, sunshine and wind. Our wet cycling gear was on and off a few times.
VianaWe met pilgrim Antoine from France who sang to us
EstellaEstellaEstella bullringFree Wine Fountain at IracheMike went for the water fountainBefore he realised the other one was wineWe met Jim and Susan from Boston USAThe road is longAnd windingAn enterprising lady on the CaminoThe haystack in the film The Way which inspired us to do thisOur picnic spotAsparagus fernsThe ridge near our campsiteLocal lady who had broken down, she didn’t want our help, which she made quite clear!Alas the wine fountain had run dry when we returned on our way backJessie wanted to camino when we got back
Penny didn’t really feel like cycling today – didn’t sleep well last night and knees are aching – but after cycling a few miles she got her mojo back.
First stop was for a cafe con leche at a quaint hilltop village called Lorca. There were plenty of peregrinos outside the two small albergues (dormitory hostels) having refreshments. We met Lauren from Oregon taking in some calories before she continued her walk.
The main nationalities of the pilgrims seem to be American and South Korean.
Lauren from Oregon
There were many interesting things to photograph on our Way Today:
Roman bridgeVineyards of Rioja with pilgrim on CaminoTempranillo grapesThe CaminoJust before Mike came offWounded elbowRipe sunflower heads bowed over like pilgrimsCollage of beheading of Santiago by Herod AD44Puente de ReinaSo we did …
Just a short ride today as we were only allowed 48 hours at the camper parking (Aire), so a quick there and back to the highest point locally in the direction we are travelling along the Camino.
The first farmed fields of the Camino
Pilgrim Clayton from Washington DCJessie wanted to walk a section of the CaminoEvidence of the recent wild fires
The capital of Navarre, one of the regions of the Basque Country.
Wow! This city was a surprise! We’ve both travelled extensIvely throughout the world, including Spain, but nowhere have we seen the streets packed with generations of party-goers like we did at 5pm on Saturday afternoon.
At first we felt a bit vulnerable amidst the loud drunken festivities, but after a while we could feel there was no danger, it’s just the way of the Pamplona people. They are dark-haired, dark-skinned, loud, swarthy and brash, and no matter their age or gender, they all carry a plastic glass of alcohol as they walk through the streets of Pamplona. Corners of roads seemed to attract huge crowds, so you ended up doing detours to avoid them.
We googled to see if there was a special event taking place, but the only fiesta mentioned was Sanfermin and the Running of the Bulls, la Corrida de Toros, along Calle Estafeta, and that takes place in July, not September. So we are left with the impression that this is a regular weekend pixx-up, which sadly we didn’t feel like joining.
The Basque language is like no other, it’s certainly nothing like Spanish or French. It has some very long words with t’s, x’s and z’s in. Pamplona is Iruna, tapas are pintxos, hello is kaixo…
We’ve read that the difficult Basque language is the cause of their relative isolation over the millennia, and this could be the reason for their genetic makeup being dissimilar to the rest of the Iberian peninsular. We were certainly surprised by their appearance.
Instead of joining the drunken masses, we did what the rest of the tourists do – visited the cathedral, the museum, the bronze sculpture of the Corrida, and had a drink in a Hemingway haunt- Cafe Iruna.
25.9.22 – Having spent a night in the camper at one of the Aires in Pamplona (10€) we set off to cycle along the many city cycle routes heading in the direction of where we left off two days ago near Zubiri. The cycle routes took us through parks adjacent to the river, Rio Arga, in Pamplona where the locals were doing their Sunday morning rituals: cycling, jogging, teaching children to ride bikes, and the most popular activity of all, promenading whilst chatting to friends. This was in sharp contrast to our return along the same route mid-afternoon when the cycle routes and recreation areas were deserted; it felt like we were committing a sin, ‘thou shalt not go outside on Sunday afternoons’.
Our cycle route took us along the Camino which was mostly paved, but there was a section which was narrow and rocky, and we were on the contraflow of walking pilgrims. As this meant dismounting and walking rather than cycling, we decided to take a detour away from the Path and headed into the hills.
Although our cycle map indicated that this was a cycle route to where we were going, the path soon became impassable and when we reached a locked gate with a farmer waving furiously at us and gabbling in the Basque language, we decided to head back to the Camino. But not before we had stopped at a suitable bench for our picnic in the village of Ilurdotz, where time stood still and three bored teenage girls whiled away the hours on village’s the main attraction, two swings. We were glad not to have spent our youth in such an out of the way place.
Despite being a dead-end street, literally, the surrounding scenery was breathtaking, valleys overflowing with trees, their leaves turning autumnal shades of orange, red, rust and more shades of green than on a Dulux colour chart. Through the crisp sunny air the sound of cow bells chimed in the distance. By chance I had my hair in Heidi plaits today.
Back on the Camino route we got a chance to exchange some words with fellow peregrinos, Gary and Jane from Idaho, also in their 60s, paused long enough for us to take photos of his Ironman and Norseman tattoos. We also met single female pilgrims and groups of men, mostly in the 55-75 age group.
After cycling past the huge dusty magnesite factory with its tall brick chimney, we arrived in the village of Zubiri, where we were greeted by the sound of a jazz trio playing in a cafe. As we listened, a dog brought us a stick to throw and then barked next to the fountain until we pressed it for him to get a drink.
After taking photos of the medieval bridge over the Rio Arga we jumped on our bikes and sped off back to Pamplona to walk Jess and then walk into the city to get our Camino passports stamped.
CAMPING URROBI to IBANETA and back, then 2. to ERRO and back
23.9.22 – We left our beautiful green spacious campsite (22€) on our bikes late morning with the temperature 10 degrees lower than yesterday, but after a short climb we were stripping off the layers.
We stopped at Roncevalles to look at the ancient buildings and to get our Camino passports stamped before cycling further up into the mountains to where we had cycled yesterday, Ibaneta. There were plenty of pilgrims (peregrinos) on foot and on bikes who had just crossed over the peaks of the Pyrenees.
After returning to the camper for lunch and to give Jessie a quick walk, we cycled south to Erro and back. We noticed the southern Pyrenees are not as green as the French side, the leaves were already starting to change colour. There were also fewer peregrinos, by now the walkers had spread out according to their pace. There are also optional routes for walkers and cyclists along this stretch of the Camino. We bought local cheese, bread, wine and bananas and had our Camino passports stamped each time.
Mike had a ’bonk’ when we were leaving Erro, a sudden dip in blood sugar, which left him weak and a bit dazed. After the bananas and a meusli bar he picked up and we returned to the campsite.
We did a total of 33 miles again today which we were pleased with considering the mountainous trails.
Beautiful bugsMike recovering from his blood sugar dip
ST JEAN PIED DE PORT (France) to IBANETA PASS (Spain) and back
22.9.22 – An uphill climb most of the way from Fronton Aire where we were camping (11€) to Ibaneta on the sunniest of days. 33 miles there and back, we took the cycle and road route rather than the walking route. There was hardly any traffic but lots of hairpin bends as we cycled higher and higher up into the Pyrenees. Ibaneta is the lowest pass over the mountains at 1057 metres and is just over the border in Spain, although there was no visible border other than some duty free shops.
We have been deliberating about tackling the Camino de Santiago de Compostella pilgrimage for a while now. There are many routes to the city of Compostella in north west Spain, where the apostle St James is said to be buried: the Plata or Silver route starts in Seville, the Norte or North route follows the Atlantic coast of Spain from the French border, the English route starts in A Coruna and there’s the Portuguese route, to name but a few. But the most popular is the Frances or French route which starts in the small French town of St Jean Pied de Port in the Pyrenees. This has been the pilgrims route since St James tomb was discovered in 813AD. Pilgrims usually travelled on foot, but some went on horseback, the distance of the Frances route is 500 miles or 800 kilometres. The scallop shell is the logo of all the routes.
So what have we been deliberating over?
We don’t want to walk it, we want to cycle it. And not just on any old bike, but on our electric bikes 🚴 🚴 So our main dilemma has been to consider how (un)comfortable we feel about doing a pilgrimage by ebike that most people do on foot, how can we square this with ourselves?
Well, if the alternative is not to do it at all, then surely doing it by ebike is a better option? At the moment we are both fit and healthy and doing a 500 mile ebike ride will hopefully help to keep us fit and healthy? Our distance will actually be 1,000 miles as we will be staying in our camper, cycling there and back to it each day. How will we feel cycling past other pilgrims who are walking? Well if we don’t do it we will never know. Most walkers stay in hostels or hotels along the way, at least we are catering for ourselves and planning our overnight stops.
So we’ve decided to give it a go, do a recce and hope to feel at ease on our e-steeds.
ST JEAN PIED DE PORT
This is the start, a beautiful French town in the Pyrenees a few miles from the Spanish border. We registered at the Pilgrims’ Office and got our first stamp in our Camino Passports; we will collect many stamps along The Way, at churches, campsites, shops and cafes, in exchange for recording our age, nationality, method and reason for ’doing’ the Camino. The optional tick boxes for reason include religion, spiritual, exercise, culture and health.
Our reason is for adventure and curiosity, to allow our senses to be free, to keep our ears and eyes open, our tastebuds titivated and to feel the sun, wind and rain touching our skin. But most of all to keep our hearts and minds open to new experiences …
The Camino Frances route is highlighted in blueSt Jean Pied de Port
This was going to be called ‘Spain Completed’ but we think we might be back!
Spain is such an easy place to be. Firstly, everyone is respectful of each other, the Spanish are easy going, well-mannered, polite and accommodating. They always follow the rules, which means they are predictable and reliable. We liked to watch the ’promenade’ each evening when friends get together to stroll and chat. Children are exceptionally well behaved, we didn’t see or hear a child crying or having a tantrum the whole three months.
Secondly, Spain is convenient. By that we mean the necessities of life are easy to find and are affordable. Supermarkets, mini markets, corner shops and independents are always within walking distance, even petrol stations sell fresh bread. Buses are frequent, on time and cheap. Cycle routes are in all towns and cities. Buses and bikes are why car traffic is minimal. Cars are only used as a means of transport and not as a status symbol. Rubbish is collected frequently, at night so that roads aren’t clogged up during the day. Outside gyms are abundant as are play-parks.
Thirdly, the weather enables an outdoor way of life. Cafe and restaurant culture are the norm for most people, usually outside, and it’s affordable – coffee or a glass of wine/beer for £1.50, three course menu del dia inc glass of wine for £7-10 (a little dearer in Barcelona). Food and fuel are considerably cheaper, and a free tapas with your drink is always a lovely surprise.
Fourthly, driving is easy, main roads are very good and well signposted. Drivers are respectful and non-aggressive throughout the whole country.
Despite the reliability and politeness of the Spanish people, the sunny weather, cheaper cost of living, varied scenery, fabulous Moorish towns and cities of Andalucia, long coastlines, free parking – especially for campers overnight, there are some downsides to Spain.
BULLFIGHTING is still a popular form of entertainment, it’s too distressing to say any more than this; and hard to believe it is also televised.
POOR ANIMAL HUSBANDRY – we hardly saw any farm animals outside, except sheep and goat herds in the south. Considering Serrano or Iberico ham is one of their staple foods, we didn’t see a single pig the entire time. Ditto chickens and cattle. Farm animals are kept inside, so there is no free range meat. And they are slaughtered very young, lambs often at few weeks old, and veal rather than beef.
LACK OF WILDLIFE – we saw very little wildlife, even in the national parks, sparrows and magpies dominate.
PLASTIC GREENHOUSES LEFT TO DISINTEGRATE – horticulture is intensive, often in plastic greenhouses which, when no longer needed, are left to disintegrate and blow into waterways and into the sea. Chemicals are widely used by untrained people in the greenhouses, often migrants who are ‘trapped’ and have no other means of supporting themselves.
USE OF PLASTIC BAGS – you are offered plastic bags in all shops.
SPANISH PEOPLE ARE NOISY – they speak loudly to each other, especially on their mobiles, and seem to be unaware of disturbing other people. Forget about sleeping on a Saturday night, there will be a party with loud music nearby, even when you are in the middle of the countryside.
SAHARA SAND STORMS WHICH COAT EVERYTHING – this happened twice within a couple of weeks and leaves a fine dust in the air which makes breathing difficult, and buildings and vehicles coated so they all look orange.
RUBBISH ALONG ROADSIDES – as the Spanish are rule followers they never leave rubbish if a sign tells them not to, but if there’s no sign they throw rubbish anywhere, inc beer bottles out of car windows. This was especially the case in southern Spain.
BARKING DOGS – if the dogs aren’t barking in the countryside at night there is something wrong! They often bark in the towns too.
DOGGIE DO-DOS – in the south no one cleans up after their dog, in town or country.
Finally, EATING OUT in Spanish restaurants is not terribly exciting, there is a lack of regional cuisine.
Sunset and sunrise somewhere in northern Spain, on our last wild camping spot before the ferry back to UK.
Benidorm is a sprawling mass of high rise apartments and hotels, lining the coast like a ribbon of kilometre-wide architects competition to see who can produce the tallest, glossiest, uniquest building. However, not many of them were occupied when we were there over the Easter holiday. Buildings with hundreds of apartments only had a few lights on at night.
The beach is divided into two parts, separated by the mirador peninsular where the castle used to stand. Levant beach, on the east, is the archetypical Benidorm, loud and brassy full of Brits Abroad on hen and stag dos. Poniente beach, on the west, is the height of beach civilisation: sections of beach for sunbathers, volley ball, kids play area, Zumba, salsa, a choir, marina, and boating and jet ski schools, paragliding, trips on cruisers to the island and along the coast. The sand is golden and cleaned each evening, the sea is unpolluted and life guards have a birds-eye view from their tower perches near the shore.
Restaurants abound, Spanish, British, Italian, American, Thai, and there’s a whole spectrum of bars, cocktails, wines, pubs, karaoke, drag queen. Theme parks are plentiful, acqua, dinosaur, animal, you name it, it’s in Beni.
What was surprising was the fact it wasn’t all English as we’d expected. The Spanish love it too!
Denia has such variety. It’s by the sea, tick. The coast has beaches and cliffs, tick. The coast and several kilometres out to sea is a conservation area, tick. There are small restaurants right on the shore, tick. No traffic near the shore, tick. The town has an historic centre with quaint plazas, tick, plus wide avenues lined with cafes and restaurants, tick. A short distance from town centre you can cycle through orange groves, tick. There’s a backdrop of mountains to cycle giving great panoramas, tick. The weather was sunny, tick. It isn’t crowded (yet), tick.
WE LOVE DENIA!
View from the castlePalm Sunday street party – the start of Santa Setimana (Holy Week)Cycling through orange groves – the scent is sublimeAnd tiny vineyardsNeighbouring XabiaThe mountain bike ride home
The weather became more and more like an English winter in south-west Andalucia, so we made a quick decision before the next storm to ’get the hell out of here’. The brilliant Ventusky App showed that if we could get north of Valencia we would miss the worst of the wind and rain, so that’s where we went.
Valencia is the capital of the province of the same name, roughly half way down the east coast of Spain, 300 miles from the south-eastern tip and 300 miles from the French border. The historic centre was crammed with beautiful buildings, but a half hour walk south brought us to a collection of new architecture which was jaw-dropping, especially the Art and Science Museums.
The elaborate facade of the Ceramics Museum
We have seen many shells in pavements throughout Spain indicating the Camino de Santiago
This was our favourite building, the train station which was highly decorated in art nouveau style.
Have you ever wondered where your out-of-season tomatoes, courgettes, peppers, aubergines, cucumber, lettuce, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and all the other out of season fruit and veg come from?
They are more than likely from southern Spain and are grown under a sea of plastic and netting which covers the frames of the vast hothouses (greenhouses seems an inappropriate word under the circumstances) which cover areas as large as Middlesex.
It’s the demand from Northern European countries that maintains the expansion of the greenhouses in Almería province; but the provinces of Granada, Huelva and Mercia have their fair share of plastic seas too.
We all love fruit and veg that is cheap, perfectly shaped and easy to buy; but at what expense? These are a few of the issues that consumers are unaware of, or if we are aware, we don’t give a damn:
To get perfect produce requires a lot of chemical pesticide.
Temperatures inside the hothouses reach more than 40 degrees.
Humidity inside the hothouses is high.
Working conditions inside hothouses are dangerous due to 1, 2 and 3 above.
Points 1-4 above lead to employing migrants, often illegal, who can’t get other employment.
Migrants have no employment rights in terms of health and safety, pay and accommodation.
Plastic of disused hothouses is left to disintegrate, blow away, ending up in waterways/the sea.
Plastic in the sea endangers marine life.
The heat from hothouses is reflected into the atmosphere, increasing global warming.
Transport from southern Spain to northern Europe is by lorry, with associated fuel consumption.
The following are articles highlighting the effects of the sea of plastic.
This article is about the living conditions of the ‘slaves’ who work in the hothouses which supply northern Europe with vegetables and plants. Do the big supermarkets not have a Modern Slavery Policy related to their suppliers???
In the far south-eastern corner of Spain lies the beautiful Cabo de Gata Natural Park. A volcanic area rich in geological formations of multicoloured rocks, surrounded by sand dunes and cliffs falling dramatically into the deep blue Mediterranean. We noticed a lot of ’tracks’ on the satellite map which we thought would be good for cycling, only to find they were dry river beds.
Another dry river bedLa Isola
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The Costa Tropical is the coastline between the Costa del Sol and Costa Almeria – 40 miles east of Malaga, 40 miles west of Almeria and 40 miles south of Granada – the coastline of the province of Granada between Nerja and La Rabita.
The most popular towns from west to east are La Herradura, Almunecar, Salobrena and Motril. Travelling inland from the coast, the scenery was mountainous with every inch of available earth terraced and cultivated with avocado orchards. Spread out in the flat valley floors were enormous plastic structures acting as green houses growing the flowers, fruits and vegetables that consumers demand year round, giving the area its name – Costa Tropical.
The weather on the Costa Tropical usually enjoys cooler summers and warmer winters than the rest of southern Spain; our experience in late March was that it was cooler than England, and wetter, with plenty of Sahara sand in the downpours.
LA HERRADURA – just west of Almunecar, the smallest of the Costa Tropical towns, La Herradura is the most picturesque of the coastal villages, named La Herradura – horseshoe – because of its beautiful horseshoe shaped bay which is surrounded on both sides by two points, Punta de la Mona and Cerro Gordo, each capped with an ancient torre – watch tower.
ALMUNECAR – the most popular of the Costa Tropical towns, located between La Herradura and Salobreña. It has the largest number of restaurants and hotels as well as the most numerous beaches. We were fortunate to see dolphins playing just off the shore.
SALOBRENA – east of Almuñécar, an ancient white-washed village clings to the cliffs and is crowned with a Moorish castle. The village of Salobreña was built on a large rock that sits in the middle of a sugar cane plantation, a unique place with winding alleys, flowered walks and long beaches.
MOTRIL – the most densely populated town on the Costa Tropical from where tropical fruits and vegetables are exported all over the world. Cruise ships and ferries to Morocco and other parts of Africa also share the port.
CALAHONDA – very typically Spanish with fewer foreign tourists than the other towns, lying in a beautiful coastal area with long, wide, sandy beaches.
LA RABITA – a small village drowning in plastic covered greenhouses and Saharan sand, devoid of locals and replaced with immigrant greenhouse workers. We made a quick exit before the atmosphere choked us and the sadness overwhelmed us.
AlmunecarAvocado plantationSea of plastic greenhouses
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Nerja (pronounced Ner-ha) is in the province of Malaga on the easternmost coast of the province, so it is still on the Costa del Sol. It is a popular tourist town with beautiful beaches with panoramic views of the Mediterranean coastline and an endless selection of hotels, restaurants and bars. In March it was just emerging from hibernation.
The famous Balcon de Europa, a lookout that extends from the town out over the sea, and the Nerja caves are its main attractions. However, its plantations of avocados make it feel quite exotic.
Nerja is backed by the soaring Sierra de Tejeda mountain range whose craggy rocks and cliffs make their way down to the coastline, forming Nerja’s exquisite beaches of fine black sand, coarse grey sand, and grey and white smooth marble pebbles.
Bananas at the campsiteavocados at the campsiteSing-along at the campsiteAlong the route inland to Frigiliana
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Gateway to the city, re-sited in a gardenTown HallCathedralRoyal Chapel – Mausoleum of the Catholic Monarchs Isabel and Fernando who died in early 1500sMizrah in the cityArabic Tea HouseAlhambra
The eighth-century-old site of the Alhambra was named for the reddish walls and towers that surrounded the citadel: al-qal’a al-hamra in Arabic means red fort or castle. This was all the more appropriate whilst we were visiting as we encountered another downpour of rain with Saharan red sand, the second in 10 days.
Wood ceiling in one of the palacesDaffodils in bloom on south side of path, still in bud on north side. If we should visit Granada again we will choose May when more flowers will be in bloom
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This area is poor, the land is barren and the weather fickle, no wonder there are so many FOR SALE signs on the roadsides. We’ve read all the Chris Stewart books: Driving over Lemons, Parrot in a Pepper Tree, Almond Blossom Appreciation Society and The Last School Bus, which are set in the Alpujarras, in particular the villages around Orgiva, and we wanted to see if the scenery matched our imaginations …
The flat-roofed, square houses in the Alpujarras villages are predominantly white, but due to the recent Saharan sand-filled rain storm the buildings are now pale terracotta in colour. The trees and shrubs are also covered in an orange dusting, leaving little to distinguish between rocks, dry riverbeds and vegetation. This is a shame as the lower hills are draped in a velvet cloak of what would usually be a bottle green of pine trees, figs and esparto grass. The air carries a dust that you can’t see, but you can feel it on your lips and taste it at the back of your throat.
We are staying at a basic campsite just outside Orgiva with the sound of birds everywhere, accompanied by the jangling of bells worn by the sheep and goats and the whistling of the wind that rips through the valley. The other campers are mostly bohemian in style, some appearing to live here permanently, Dutch, Belgian, Italian, Spanish, German and English, carrying their yoga mats under their arms, knapsacks on their backs, hair in dreadlocks or very short styles and some with facial piercings. There’s a hippie commune nearby, and a naturist campsite; maybe next time…
As the mountain roads are steep, narrow and at times just tracks, we hired a car and left the camper at the campsite. The roads were VERY scary, often with vertical drops of hundreds of metres; on the minor roads there are no roadside barriers either, not for the faint-hearted. We were going to take our bikes up into the mountains but are happy to be in the faint-hearted club for the time being.
ORGIVA – 450 metres
Our ‘James Bond’ Fiat Doblo rental for the mountain roads – (Doblo 7!)
TIJOLES
TORVIZCON – 685 metres
CASTARAS – 1,016 metres
Snow-capped mountains
NIELES – 994 metres
CADIAR – 919 metres
Free wine from the fountain during the autumn fiesta
PAMPANEIRA – 1,060 metres
BUBION – 1,350 metres
Flat-roofed houses, some with grass
CAPILEIRA – 1,436 metres
Flat roofs and chimneys
LANJARON
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CathedralAlcazabaRoman theatreView of Bullring from CastleView of Pompidou Museum from Castle
PICASSO MUSEUM
Lola, his sister, who he painted when he was 12, 18941939
CARMEN THYSSEN MUSEUM
Cabrera – Newlyweds 1905Iturrino – Two Gypsies 1901-1903Martinez – Flamenco Dancer 1913Degrain – Bay of Palma de Majorca 1905-10Cubells – Fishermen Dragging BoatGill – Dusk over the Bay of Malaga 1918Perrier – Winter in Andalucia 1880
MALAGA MUSEUM – archaeology & art
42,000 year old jaw boneMartinez – Eve 1945Aranda – Slave Girl For Sale 1892-97Lombardo – Judgment of Paris 1904Lombardo – And She Had A Heart 1890Carreras – Head of Old Man 1885
Running from Sotogrande in the south to Nerja in the east, the Costa del Sol stretches about 100 miles along the Mediterranean, in the province of Malaga.
The first most noticeable thing about the Mediterranean beaches on the Costa del Sol is the different coloured sand to that on the Atlantic coast. Here it’s a grey/brown colour, whereas the sand on the Costa de la Luz was silver and golden in colour.
The next most noticeable thing was the lack of people, we had assumed the Costa del Sol was busy all year round as it’s one of the warmest places in Europe in the winter.
The next thing that struck us was the fact that we liked it more than we had expected. Usually seeking out nature, fauna and flora, we weren’t expecting to appreciate the coastline of continuous resorts in any shape or form, with so many holiday apartments and very little space for wildlife.
We started the Costa del Sol at the southernmost part, north of Gibraltar, at Playa de Cala Sardina – Sardine Cove Beach – where the first ’urbanisation’ by the Med was spotted. (Urbanisation is the term the Spanish give to new housing developments). We moved north from there to the first large town, Estepona, which was beautifully maintained with the sides of the roads decorated with carpets of brightly coloured begonias, marigolds, geraniums and roundabouts with fountains. It felt like a nice place to spend a winter if you didn’t prefer travelling and exploring like we do.
Then on to San Pedro de Alcantara, a sleepy seaside area between Estepona and Marbella. We cycled from here to Puerto Banus, an exclusive marina for the super rich. The quayside was full of expensive designer shops with no one in them, and the bars and restaurants were bursting with the overtly rich. We had to push our bikes under the barriers at each end of this exclusive area, the likes of us were not deemed worthy, but we wanted to look anyway.
Just north of Puerto Banus was Marbella proper. The high rise blocks of apartments and sudden increase in the number of people didn’t do much for us, nor the African men’s ‘mobile shops’ selling ’designer’ handbags, watches and sunglasses along the promenade.
Beyond Marbella we passed quickly through Fuengirola, Benalmadena and Torremolinos, where the high rise blocks of apartments and restaurants and casinos dominated every angle of vision.
La Cala del Moral, 8 miles east of Malaga, a Spanish town on the Med which has a nice ‘we could live here’ atmosphere. It isn’t a resort, it’s a town where Spaniards live who work in Malaga. The shops are independent: grocers, delis, bakers, iron mongers, barbers, gyms, all you need without visiting a supermarket, and the beachfront is a mix of small traditional brightly tiled villas and super modern cubes of polished concrete and glass. Lovely. Shame the beach is almost black.
The most interesting and novel experience we had along the Costa del Sol was the ‘orange sky’ during the daytime caused by Sahara sand held in the rainclouds. It was disorienting as you felt like it was sunset at 11am, and the dust got in the back of your throat, and coated the cars and pavements.
The Rock has been British longer than the US has been American, since 1713. The towering 3 mile long limestone ridge rises to 426m and looks magnificent from many miles away when the sun is shining and the sky is blue. However, it looks nondescript when it’s shrouded in cloud, with the green top of the rock hidden from view. We were there for two days and experienced both vistas.
The entry point at the border between La Linea in Spain and Gibraltar was straightforward and quick for us as pedestrians – we had left the camper at the marina on the Spanish side. We then proceeded into Gibraltar town by walking over the runway with cars, buses and trucks right next to us and the rumble of a plane’s engine VERY close. The town reminded us of Dover, or one of the Medway towns, there was no need to hang about! So we found our hotel, The Eliott, left our overnight bags, then headed for the quayside where we boarded a boat to go dolphin spotting. We spent a lovely couple of hours in the sunshine on the water heading into the Straights with the mountains of Morocco very clear ahead of us, but alas only glimpsed one dolphin.
Returning to shore we headed to the cable car which took us swiftly to the top of the rock where we had lunch in an empty restaurant with 360 degree views around us, the deep blue Mediterranean on one side and Gibraltar town and Algerciras port on the other side. The resident Barbary apes kept us entertained whilst we ate and marvelled at the panoramas.
The next morning we sauntered around the waterfront where not a soul was to be seen. There are numerous restaurants and cafes but all without clients; maybe March is too out of season or the locals don’t eat out?
We had booked Sunday lunch at the Rock Hotel, on the way we walked through the botanical gardens where we caught sight of the rare hoopoe bird which we spent a good 20 minutes photographing; it made our stay in Gibraltar feel very special.
The coastline between the Portuguese border and the southernmost tip of Spain is called the Costa de la Luz – Coast of Light – renowned for mile after mile of deserted sandy beaches (apart from high summer) interspersed with rocky cliffs which stick out into the Atlantic Ocean defining bays along an otherwise straight coastline.
We had already explored the coast between Huelva and Cadiz in February, so, after our adventures in the mountains and white villages between Cadiz and Marbella, we were interested to find out what the Costa de la Luz south of Cadiz was like. Westward facing, we were hoping for some sunsets dropping behind the wild Atlantic Ocean.
Cadiz to Barbate
We checked out the hillside town of VEJER DE LA FRONTERA in the rain, and we loved it. It’s got a laid back atmosphere whilst at the same time being a real working town with less of a touristy feel than some of the other Pueblos Blancos. There’s a strong Moorish influence and, unlike the villages in the mountains which had pitched tiled roofs, Vejer’s white buildings had mostly flat roofs which are used as patios for eating and hanging washing.
Plaza de Espagna cafes showing support for UkraineStatue of the woman who could only show her left eye – the local costume until the Civil War in 1936Keeping dry and warm in Moroccan themed cafe – Jardin del Califa
CONIL DE LA FRONTERA is on the coast and felt like a holiday resort out of season. We cycled here on a warm sunny day but hardly saw a soul, neither on the beach nor in the town up the hill.
South of Conil lies EL PALMAR DE VEJER, a surfers paradise where we relaxed pretending we were surfer dudes.
CABO TRAFALGAR – the peninsular jutting out into the sea where Nelson defeated the Spanish and French in 1805, despite having significantly fewer ships and men than the Spaniards and French. We were surprised to see so many Trafalgar street names and plaques.
LOS CANOS DE MECA is the name of the beach and sand dunes east of the lighthouse, a paradise for kite and board surfers with a hinterland of pine trees and sandy trails.
BARBATE is a fishing village tucked away in the estuary of the river of the same name.
Further down the coast from Barbate is ZAHARA DE LOS ATUNES, which is probably the windiest place we have been so far, the numerous wind turbines should have given us a clue! We stayed on a campsite right on the beach but couldn’t see the sea due to the tall windbreaks around all the pitches. It’s probably a relief in the heat of the summer, but it didn’t appeal to us in March, apart from the sunset.
BOLONIA
Lovely Bolonia! A campervan haven right on the beach with a community feel: young, old, surfer, single, partnered, vintage van, new van, a nice mix with one thing in common – appreciation of the beauty of the sight and sound of the Atlantic Ocean crashing against the shore.
Unfortunately this is where we locked ourselves out of our van! Some lateral thinking got us out of a tight spot.
After which, a bottle of white wine whilst watching the sunset was required. (Possibly the best white wine we’ve tasted, and only £1.68 / 2 euros a bottle).
BAELO CLAUDIA
A recently discovered Roman city right next to the beach with roads to Cadiz and Tarifa running through it. Tuna fishing was the main activity, just as it still is along this coast, when the shoals swim to the Mediterranean to spawn by squeezing through the Gibraltar Straights between May and September.
TARIFA
The tip of southern Spain, where the Atlantic meets the Mediterranean and you can almost lean out to touch Morocco.
The photos don’t do the mountains of the Serrania de Ronda the justice they deserve, and words even less so. From Ronda the mountains rose steeply, devoid of vegetation, craggy rock faces enveloped us. We then traced the road along a narrow ridge with views to either side. Wild horses, larks and eagles kept us company when we stopped for breakfast to digest the splendour of the mountains.
We had hoped to stop in Gaucin, the only town on the ridge, but couldn’t find a parking spot; another day perhaps. There were plenty of motorbikes weaving their way around the hairpin bends, and the cafes in Gaucin were packed with bikers admiring each others machines – a sign that told us it was the weekend.
The descent from Gaucin happened all too quickly, and we found ourselves feeling a bit flat, like the lie of the land at Castillar de la Frontier where we are parked in another free overnight spot for autocaravanas (campers).
Castillar d l F is in two parts, the old town and proper frontier of the Muslim Moors during the Christian Reconquest in the 12-15th centuries, and the new town where we are camped. A distance of six miles separates the two. The old town is on a hill and the new town is on the flat and was designed in the 60s and inaugurated in 1970.
The thing that strikes us most about the new town is a lovely friendly and relaxed atmosphere, it’s very Spanish but they are welcoming to us travellers, possibly glad of the additional income in their tiny shops. They try out the handful of English words that they know with confidence and a smile.
The other noticeable thing in the new town is a clever road system. There’s the main road divided by a central reservation with palm trees and shrubs, and to either side of each road there’s a service road for use of slower vehicles for the shops and houses. This makes it sound like a broad American street, but it’s not, it’s just wide enough for one vehicle, and when we cycled it there were only a few cars. It’s a modern well designed town with an old fashioned laid back vibe. We liked it so much we visited every shop, cafe and restaurant to show our support.
We had intended to cycle to the Mediterranean coast which we have so far avoided for fear of crowds. But once we caught sight of it in the distance with its row upon row of identical villas and apartments, we quickly turned off along a track into the hills and nature again, we aren’t ready for the Med just yet!
Oak cork harvestThe Rock of Gibraltar in the distance, a field of daisies in the foreground.Monarch butterflies
Sitting astride a steep steep gorge, Ronda is a town to look out from rather than at. The Puente Nuevo, new bridge, was built in the late 18th century and links the ‘old’ and ‘new’ parts of the town over the dramatic gorge which the Rio Guardalevin has made; it is so deep you cannot see the bottom of the bridge. The buildings on both sides of the gorge have balconies and patios from where visitors crane their necks, or even stand on the walls to get a better photo than the next person, with sheer drops hundreds of metres to the bottom of the ravine.
Old BridgePuente Nuevo – New Bridge
Hemingway is purported to have used this scene at the Plaza de Espana at Ronda to describe the murders during the Spanish Civil War, 1936-1939, of local Fascists in For Whom the Bells Tolls, where they were forced out of the Town Hall and beaten and thrown over the precipice into the gorge. The Town Hall is now the Parador Hotel where we had coffee and cakes with a cold shudder down the spine.
Ronda is the home of the largest and oldest bull ring in Spain, which may be why Hemingway and Orson Wells spent time here, they loved a bull fight. It looks like this one got away, hurray!
There is also a statue of Blas Enfante 1885 – 1936, the social reformist who made a seat in Ronda for Andaculian nationalism, and who designed the Andalucian flag of green and white stripes. He was executed by Franco’s forces when they took over Seville at the beginning of the Civil War.
Andalucia for itself, for Spain, for Humanity.
Despite its Civil War associations, the views out and beyond Ronda were breathtaking, even on the very cold day when we visited.
Plastic rubbish is discarded in the countryside and in towns. After fiestas there are also broken bottles and other debris left in car parks, roads, plazas, which council workers later clear up. Also a lot of large beer bottles on the roadside.
Dog owners are fewer in number than the UK but they tend not to clear up after their dogs.
Ladies of a certain age tend to dye their hair a pale shade of auburn, and wear clothes of a similar colour.
Wine and beer is consumed in smaller amounts but the Spanish start from 11am and always eat something with their drinks.
When the Spanish eat out they do not look at their phones. They are fully engaged with the other people at their table. They don’t seem to people watch either; instead they behave as only their immediate environment exists.
Animal husbandry falls way below UK standards. Farm animals are kept in very small enclosures, sometimes tethered on short ropes.
Spanish men wear strong aftershave, which helps us to decide if we are saying Hola or Hello.
A small pueblo blanco – white village – 7 miles from Arcos de la Frontera, on a steep hillside above a lake where canoeists, dinghy sailors and paddle boarders while away the hours, with the national team of para motor gliders practising overhead for the world championship which is taking place here soon.
When there’s no human activity on the lake, the birds abound with grebes, egrets, mallards, coots and osprey. We saw an osprey swoop and catch a fish which he then flew off with whilst other birds tried to steal it from him.
We did a great hike along the waterside to the dam holding back the water from the lake beside Arcos, passing a disused cave dwelling, a man on a beautiful Andalucian horse, and then panting up cliffs back to the village where the Carnival was just starting. Just as we were finishing the hike we spotted a praying mantis.
22 miles east of Jerez de la Frontera is Arcos de la Frontera, the start of our exploration of the Pueblos Blancos – White Villages. It’s a hilltop town with a castle sitting sentinel at the top of a craggy outcrop with cliffs of 150 metres beneath, where a variety of birds nest safely in the fractures and pockets of the sandstone. Most of the buildings are painted white and the narrow alleyways create a labyrinth of passages for pedestrians, scooters and brave car drivers.
Dad gave us a great tip before we left – choose the fanciest place with a view for coffee, it’s usually good coffee, generally no dearer than anywhere else and the loos are clean. He should know, he’s had 93 years experience.
Jérez, Arcos, Morón, Vejer, Chiclana and Conil are a number of Andalucian towns which end in ‘…de la frontera’ but there’s no frontier in sight.
However, the place names make perfect sense when you go back to the time of the Muslim Moors (Arabs). Al-Ándalus, was under Moorish control on the Iberian peninsular for more than 700 years. At one point their kingdom stretched as far north as Pamplona in Spain and Carcasonne in France.
In 711 CE, a group of North African Muslims captured the Iberian Peninsula (modern Spain and Portugal). Known as al-Andalus, the territory became a prosperous cultural and economic center where education and the arts and sciences flourished.
In the 13th and 14th centuries the strength of the Muslim state diminished, creating inroads for Christians who resented Moorish rule. This culminated in 1492, when Catholic monarchs Ferdinand II and Isabella I won the Granada War and completed Spain’s conquest of the Iberian Peninsula. Eventually, the Moors were expelled from Spain. The North African colonists had been in control of almost all of Spain for 750 years until Granada fell in 1492, (the same year as Spain discovered the Americas).
During the later 15th century, there were a number of frontier towns which watched over Terra Nullius, the unclaimed space between the two factions, the European border between Christianity and Islam. It became a place of exchange and barter, keeping alive the spirit of the Christian crusade and the Islamic jihad.
While another culture might have dropped the Arabic names, the Spanish kept them. Words beginning with ’Al’ come from the Arab prefix ‘the’: Alhambra, Almería, Alpujarra…
Of all of the ‘frontera’ towns, mostly located in the province of Cádiz, the largest is Jerez de la Frontera with its magnificent Alcazar, an 11th-century Moorish fortress. Other towns with a de la Frontera suffix are Arcos, Chiclana, Conil and Vejer, a vertiginous white village commanding views to the Atlantic.
Some of the ’de la Frontera’ towns
We are heading inland to Arcos de la Frontera soon …
Sanlucar de Barrameda, popluation 69k (similar to Folkestone), is one of the corners of the Sherry Triangle – Jerez de la Frontera and El Puerto de Santa Maria making the other two corners. The main difference of Sanlucar’s sherry is the manzanilla, a very dry fortified wine similar to the fino of the other two towns.
Its other main claim to fame is that both Columbus in 1493 and Magellan in 1513 set sail from its port on the river Guardalquiver when they set off to explore the Americas / circumnavigate the globe.
We cycled as close as we could to the Rio Guardalquiver where it flows into the Atlantic, broad sandy beaches soon turned into inaccessible areas where our path was impeded by the farming communities – smallholding after smallholding growing cabbages, cauliflowers, courgettes, onions, and crops hidden from view by netting and plastic which covered makeshift poly tunnels. The terracotta coloured alluvial earth was finely tilled and irrigation pipes lay like black snakes everywhere. Sheep, goats, chickens and dogs shared small enclosures. Between the parcels of land there were ditches and fragments of wasteland which we were sad to see covered in rubbish – cans, plastic bags and other fly-tipped no longer wanted items. Often on this wasteland were tethered horses and donkeys searching for vegetation amongst the rubbish. This part of town was clearly poor and people worked hard on their plots of land leaving little time for aesthetics; quite a contrast with the other end of town where there were plush newly built villas on the seafront.
Heading further north to the salinas, or salt fields, there were ‘mountains’ of salt piled next to the ponds from where the white stuff was left after evaporation.
Suddenly the road ended and we found ourselves in Donana Natural Park again, a veritable oasis of calm with just the sound of the birdsong and breeze in the pine trees.
CHIPIONA
6 miles south-west of Sanlucar, where the coast ’rounds the corner’ towards Rota and Cadiz, lies Chipiona, population 19k (a little more than Hythe), which claims to have the tallest lighthouse in Spain.
Chipiona had a laidback vibe, mile after mile of deserted sandy beaches with villas that were shut up for the winter. it was like a ghost town.
It’s not that we are disappointed with Jerez, (pronounced Hair-eth), it’s more that it’s Monday which is the day most places are closed. We arrived from Cadiz by train with the intention of visiting the Alcazar, having a sherry tasting at Gonzalez Byass and stopping at the Flamenco museum, but none of these were open.
Instead we sauntered around the cathedral, vowing never to visit another. The wealth in terms of the silver that was brought from South America in the 1500-1700s, intricately worked into religious symbols, and now needing a guard, made us feel uncomfortable when, today, there are young and middle-aged Spanish men wandering from cafe to cafe begging from the owners and patrons… And then there’s the conditions under which the silver was obtained from the South American mines… There were other questions we asked ourselves, which have lead us to think we might not ’do’ any more cathedrals on this trip.
Jerez de la Frontera first rose to prominence in the 8th century under the Moors (Arabs), who called it Sherrich ‘De la Frontera’, which refers to Jerez’s position on the frontier of Moorish and Christian Spain. The Alcazar (fortress), mosques and palaces were built and the town was extended dramatically. The eventual re-conquest of the Christians under Alphonso X in 1264 saw the mosques converted to churches.
The 19th century was a period of economic prosperity for Jerez, thanks to a partnership with English exporters and wine merchants launching the success story that the Jerez sherry industry is today.
Jerez is the fifth largest city in Andalucía, with a population of around 210,000 (similar to Southampton). Besides sherry, it is famous for its Andalucian horses, flamenco and motorbikes. We stayed the night and visited the Alcazar the next morning.
Sherry comes from a small area of Spain, made in one of three towns that make up the Sherry Triangle: Jerez de la Frontera, Sanlucar de Barrameda and El Puerto de Santa Maria.
Facts about Spanish Sherry:
Sherry winemakers only use Palomino, Moscatel and Pedro Ximenez grape varieties.
Sir Francis Drake imported the first recorded Spanish sherry into the UK in 1587. Shakespeare was also a big fan of sherry. He referred to it in his play, Henry IV
Winemakers only use white grapes for sherry. Most importantly, 90% of the white grapes are the Palomino variety which gives the sherry a sharp, bitter taste.
All sherry is aged in barrels. As a result, the youngest drinkable sherry wine is 3 years old.
The different types of sherry
In total, there are seven different kinds of sherry.
Overall, Spanish sherry can be:
Dry (Vinos Generosos)
Naturally sweet (Vinos Dulces Naturales)
Sweet through blending (Vinos Generosos de Licor)
Fino de Jerez – dry Spanish sherry
Spanish Fino is only made in Jerez and Puerto de Santa María. Winemakers use the Palomino grape to make Fino. The wine is left to age in a barrel for 3-7 years and is protected from contact with the air by a cap of yeast, known as Flor. Famous Fino producing sherry wine brands include Tío Pepe (González Byass), La Ina and Inocente.
Manzanilla Sherry
Just like Fino, Manzanilla sherry wine is a dry Spanish sherry that has been aged for 3-7 years in a barrel. With similar tasting notes, this wine encompasses the salty, seaside spirit of Sanlúcar, where it is made. Sanlúcar is the only place where Manzanilla wine is made.
Amontillado
Amontillado sherry starts life as a Fino or Manzanilla wine. After the initial ageing process, a second process begins involving oxygen. This sherry is slightly sweeter than the first two, despite still being classed as naturally dry.
Oloroso
After harvest, winemakers reserve young wines with the most robust structure for the Oloroso sherry production. The second pressing of grapes is the key ingredient for this tasty tipple. The young wine is fortified to 18% and then stored in barrels to oxidise for as long as 40+ years.
Palo Cortado
Palo Cortado Spanish sherry combines the richness of the complex structure of Oloroso with the freshness of Amontillado. It starts life as a Fino sherry, but the disappearance of the Flor (yeast layer) creates an ambiguous wine that to taste is a lighter version of the Oloroso.
Cream sherry
A favourite amongst the British, cream sherry sweet wine such as Croft Original is a sweet, pale coloured sherry. The colour can range from a dark straw to treacle and the darker the sherry, the more intense the flavour. Harveys Bristol Cream is an example of a dark cream sherry. It is created by blending a dry Spanish sherry with a sweeter variety such as Pedro Ximenez or Moscatel.
Pedro Ximenez
This is the sweetest of all Sherries. It is made using Spanish sherry Pedro Ximenez grapes that have been sun dried.
Cadiz, pronounced Cad-ith, is more of a feeling than a place. Purported to be one of the oldest cities in Europe, you can approach it by sea across the Bay of Cadiz, or by train or car along the spit peninsula, where it sits at the tip like a huge maze of narrow cobbled streets. Only the perimeter allows cars, bikes and scooters, the main streets are all pedestrianised, which helps you to look all around and above when exploring. We left our camper ’on the mainland’ and stayed in a hotel for three nights; a converted palace dating back to 1647, where the Duke of Wellington subsequently stayed in 1812. More about this below.
There are few tourists in Cadiz in February, it’s not an easy place to get to with the nearest international airport in winter some 80 miles away in Seville (flights to Jerez start after Easter). So the small city is filled with locals and Spanish travellers giving us a chance to try our Spanish, see video of Mike below.
The delightful atmosphere of Cadiz meant we walked every street, through every public garden, along the beach, and sat outside in the sunshine at a cafe in every square, spent a lot of time people watching, and tried some new tapas dishes accompanied by crisp white wines.
The main sites included the cathedral, its bell tower, the museum and the Roman theatre, but in Cadiz it’s really best to just wander the narrow streets and alleyways, turning at ‘crossroads’ in the direction most appealing to the senses, stopping at bars and cafes as your feet start to protest, and your taste buds yearn for a new experience.
In the 18th century, Cadiz became a fortified town in order to resist the repeated naval attacks perpetrated by the English. It was during this period that Cadiz enjoyed its most fruitful economic growth, monopolizing trade with the Americas. Cadiz resisted the Napoleonic invasion during the Peninsula War 1810-1812 from behind its ancient walls, when Wellington and his army lead the Spanish guerillas, and it was from Cadiz that Napolean’s army was fought until they retreated back to France. So it could be argued that if it wasn’t for Cadiz, Spain would be part of France.
CathedralView from Bell TowerCadiz is where I celebrated my 60th birthdayMike marketing Duo Lingo