Much ado – mucho andando

So my last day in Cuenca was meant to be about nothing – a quiet one and then I got a small two hour job to do – my fault I did say I’d pick up emails if urgent. So the morning passed and it wasn’t quite hot enough to go to the pool so given the verbiage was flowing I knocked out a short story for a collection I’ve planned alongside “the novel”. I’d written off the new town of Cuenca down the hill after driving through a few times but thought while I’m here I’d better walk down through the old town and see how it all pans out. It took about half an hour – all down – from the parador to the main shopping/drinking street. I had dinner planned so didn’t want much lunch so a beer and the freeby olives, nuts and crisps sufficed at a couple of bars and it was after four by now. The lower town does not have much to recommend it I’m afraid except for an enthusiastic balcony display commemorating Cuenca’s sunflowers and a little later the lovely strains from the practice rooms of the music academy with its lively (again) Corten steel sculpture.

The northern river Jucar had a bit more water than the Huecar on the parador side and there was a pleasant park and another incredibly modern church the cross of which probably doubles as a cellphone mast, impressive university buildings and a likely looking theatre.

Do I walk back up or get a cab? Seems daft to not walk but it does prove quite steep and there’s more to come later. However the legs make it up beside the Huecar with its little weirs gurgling encouragement to the ancient limbs and I do get a different angle on the hanging houses and the bridge which on my way down I’d heard someone refusing to cross – I guess if you have a height phobia it would be very scary.

Back at the parador I shower and prepare for dinner at Cuenca’s one Michelin starred restaurant Raff San Pedro. Of course it’s up in the old town so the bones creak a bit but the menu makes pain soon forgotten. I explain that with old age I really only need a small amount so the patron suggests the Menu Gastro which has three small starters, a main fish or meat and ice cream. I go for that – and forgive me some have accused earlier blogs of being too full of food but this has to be told. First comes a small golf ball of ajo arriero cod and garlic mixed with potato and with a truffled exterior. Delicate notes of truffle and garlic very well balanced. Next is a wine glass of foamed yogurt with migas the local croutons and jellied extract of artichoke. The third is a wonderfully smooth salmorejo gazpacho’s thicker sister with cucumber and quail’s egg. The main was an old favourite carilleras pig’s cheeks where the meat is so tender because of lying against that great expanse of bone. Accompanied by a local Tempranillo my last day in Cuenca was a huge success and Spain beat Croatia 6-0 so there was happiness in the plaza as I wended my way back down to the parador.

Breakfast, pack and on to Madrid with an easy drive until the last section where the SatNav could not put me outside my hotel despite telling me I’d reached my destination. I had to go into a giant parking garage under Plaza de Independencia and find the hotel on foot with Google maps and then go and retrieve the car and park it in the hotel’s garage. It’s a modern boutique number quite unlike the rest of my trip but very pleasant and in Salamanca an area of the city I didn’t know much before. I do now. It’s very posh (of course) with lots of international and local specialist clothes, shoe and jewellery shops. What I did find was a Galician taberna for lunch which had steamed clams fresh in from A Coruna this morning – and they and the crisp Rias Baixas wine reminded me of our trip two years ago along the north and west coast starting in San Sebastian and ending up in Baiona. Fortified I wandered, keeping to the shady side of the street as it reached 36 degrees today – pleasing the locals as it had been over 40. I walked through areas unfamiliar and familiar, finding another local market on the way and ending up on the far west of the city by the Royal Palace. I sat in front of the Opera thinking one day it would be good to come here during the season and catch a performance. Likewise the Liceu in Barcelona.

I had of course to go through Sol the very heart of Madrid and our favourite plaza Santa Ana before heading through the Retiro Gardens and back to the hotel on Alcala. My feet said enough and there’s a Mexican-Spanish fusion group playing live on the roof terrace tonight so it would be rude not to attend. Besides as I entered my room after an urgent beer in the bar I found this. Salud!

I’ve never been into to the FitBit step thing but today I did think it would be nice to know just how many steps – all as they say andando a pie.

Adelante – Belmonte y Cuenca

After a leisurely breakfast and checkout, I head off to the east towards Belmonte where I plan to stay the night as the parador deal doesn’t work on Saturdays and Belmonte has a good looking hotel. As I bowl along I’m caught by a sign to Campo de Criptana – another amazing hill of windmills where Dee and I had also gone at the New Year some while back. When the Don calls … So I am soon, after a coffee and churro in town – yes I know it’s supposed to be chocolate y churros – parking at the top of the hill and walking down to the fabulous array of molinos. Being right on the edge of town makes it quite a different experience from Consuegra. They are fine structures and well maintained – glad I followed the call.

Back now on to the N420 that crosses the east centre of Spain from Cordoba to Tarragona, Because of the extensive network of motorways (autovia non-toll as opposed to the autopista where you do have to pay) the road is empty and a delightful drive. Behind me the centre of Castilla La Mancha had been as flat as a pancake. Now as I enter the province of Cuenca it starts to ruffle up around the edges like an omelette undulating in the pan. After several miles it’s more like a soufflĂ© or a meringue with some serious peaks arriving. I reach Belmonte and, my goodness, it’s got a castle rather splendid with a six point star shape and some windmills behind the town. These haven’t been painted glistening white and probably are nearer to historical accuracy. There are also impressive medieval walls around the town.

The hotel is welcoming and has rooms named after famous folk so I am placed in Pedro 1 who I discovered was the last king of Castille-La-Mancha and was called both the Cruel and the Just – well there is the old saying about being kind. The hotel occupies a great building, is a popular meeting place for the town and serves a good local craft beer. It also had a clothes horse of the kind I haven’t seen for years. Had to hang clothes on that.

What I hadn’t checked was that Belmonte was celebrating its fiesta patronal which involved a lots of singing, dancing and drinking on Saturday and on Sunday a procession for the Virgin of Grace. So I watched England beaten by Spain to the delight of the locals – I had to admit Spain were the better team although ‘we was robbed’ at the end. I then joined the revellers at the local brass band’s recital and then at a series of sets by a band I can only describe as Latino heavy rock. They were fun, people dressed up and danced but they did go on until 04:30.

I had retired by then but not to much sleep! On the way east the weather had changed and once the music stopped I was woken by thunder. It rumbled around but produced no rain which is good as two days ago in a town near Toledo I saw on the news cars being swept down the street in flash floods. It was called Cebolla = Onion Town.

I decided to make straight for Cuenca knowing I’d be too early to check in but did manage to park and store my cases before setting off to explore the town. On the way I was surprised to drive through field after field of sunflowers. Google later helpfully informed me that round about a third of all Spain’s sunflowers grow in the province. But oh what would Vincent say? In 1997 Dee and I drove her mum through south west France where she loved the field after field of shoulder high sunflowers. In Cuenca they are still very striking bout only about two feet (less than a metre) high. Just not the same but much more efficient I’m sure.

I’ve bored some people already with the story of why I wanted to come to Cuenca. About 25 years ago I made an English language teaching video about two students on exchange between Brighton and Cuenca which seem to both be favourite places in the ELT universe. Thing is we shot several scenes purporting to be in Cuenca without me ever going there. It was all done by the wonders of blue screen (not green in those days) and Ultimatte a clever keying device that allowed library footage from the Tourist Office in Cuenca to play behind action in the studio. So having seen only the bits they wanted me to see I was intrigued to visit the place myself. It’s defined by a massive gorge – not a high frequency occurrence word of much value to learners, but it did have lots of steps which helped with counting – well beyond the required 100!

It didn’t disappoint – the gorge reminded me of Ronda which also has a parador perched on its edge (the converted convent on the left is Cuenca’s) but there was a rather flimsy-looking iron and wood bridge to cross into the old city. Most of the tourist footage was of this bit rather than the undistinguished modern city far below. There are some famous medieval hanging houses which I’d seen on film but are stunning to the eye and by a miracle are now the Museum of Modern Spanish Abstract Art.

It has some very impressive examples: Chillida, Tapies, Miro among them and some fine works by artists I didn’t know. Being inside the building was great too as some of the original features remain and the view from the balconies is vertiginous.

Moving on, the Plaza Mayor and Catedral were familiar from the footage although the signage and slogans are a bit more modern, Right at the top the castle had featured with a scene in front of it which had proved a vehicle for the past tense. For me it proved the turning point for me to stop exploring – all up so far – and seek some lunch.

I might not have fetched up where I did in a previous visit (!) but found a bar in the main square near the cathedral with some local craft beer I thought I’d try – the bottle came and it was 7%, serious beer, but as so often with high alcohol content too sweet for my tooth so I stuck at the one there and had a more refreshing Alhambra on the way back to check in.