Coasting through Spain
Carol West drives from Cadiz to Ronda through the splendours of south-west Spain,and finds many a wonder along the way.
“Breathe in: it’s going to be a tight squeeze,” I gasp as our car inches down a cobblestone laneway. We’ve been in some tight spots before but following the romantic 250-kilometre route through the whitewashed villages of Cádiz province is breathtaking in more ways than one. On a self-drive excursion through magnificent natural parks and a string of spectacularly picturesque settlements, we’re discovering that there’s more to Andalusia than sun, sand and the Costa del Sol.
Scattered like snowflakes against the high sierras, these pueblos blancos (white villages) fan out to the north, east and west, but we’ve decided to chart our own course. And in a region that enjoys nearly 300 days of sunshine a year, the factor- 30+ sunscreen is at the ready!
With no international airport, it takes a little effort to reach Cádiz, western Europe’s oldest continuouslyinhabited city, in south-west Spain – but effort brings its own rewards. Driving the coastal route from Malaga propels us past some of Spain’s favourite summer playgrounds.
Leaving the Costa del Sol’s faux Spanish colonial architecture behind, the road swoops past forests of white wind farms, harvesting the element that’s put the coastal town of Tarifa on the international windsurfing map. This is Europe’s southernmost point, where the Mediterranean Sea and Atlantic Ocean meet, and with Tangiers a mere 35-minute fast-ferry ride away, windsurfers can glide in the shadow of North Africa.
We sip coffee in Tarifa’s town square, observed by bronzes of crusader kings, before being enticed into a web of ancient cobbled laneways. At the colonnaded Arabic marketplace, chunks of tuna, shoals of tiny puntillita, fresh-eyed whiting and the region’s famous shrimps and sardines slither in white-tiled stalls.
Along the beachfront at the Hotel Hurricane, windsurfers have adjourned for lunch on the vine-clad terrace to discuss the afternoon’s conditions over fried sardines and cold beer. If you missed Spain in the 1970s, you can still find it at Caños de Meca, a
stone’s throw from where Admiral Lord Nelson won the Battle of Trafalgar but lost his life off Cape Trafalgar.
Cádiz is perched on a peninsula hard by the Atlantic, where Roman
rulers, Moorish caliphs, English pirates and Spanish monarchs have bequeathed an architectural exoticism of great charm, overlaid with baroque buildings and medieval castles. Clambering to the top of Torre Tavira (Tavira Tower), we feel like voyeurs as the cámara oscura sweeps across terracotta rooftops, reflecting real-time images on a white dish.
Meandering down the old city’s labyrinthine laneways, we join in vibrant post-siesta street scenes: shop shutters clatter open, locals promenade along the waterfront and families gather noisily in plazas. At the end of Calle Cuba, the aroma of fried fish laces the air and, joining the crowd at Antiguario, we drink local sherry straight from the barrel before tapas-crawling well into the night.
It’s only about a 50-kilometre drive to Arcos de la Frontera, the gateway to Spain’s white villages, nestling under sun-bleached, terracotta-tiled roofs. We glimpse a castle perched imperiously on a bluff before entering Arcos’s sun-streaked maze of streets, crowded with pretty white buildings, their windows framed in Andalusian mustard, flowers cascading down walls and entwining with window grilles. Skirting perilously close to courtyard cafés and shops selling gaily painted ceramics and polka-dot flamenco aprons, we cliff-top park at the Plaza de Cabildo and take in spectacular balcony views over the Guadalete valley.
A two-hour stroll through the Old Quarter’s palaces, monasteries and convents begins at the Cathedral of St Mary, built like a sacred layer cake on the site of an 8th-century mosque. Steps lead to the 11th-century Moorish castle that first captured our attention and we make a mental note to check out the local legend, involving a ghostly Moorish woman wandering the battlements on moonlit nights looking for her lover.
Other scrumptious quirks include the town’s last working convent, where delicious cakes and tarts, made by the nuns of a closed order, are sold. Pressing a buzzer, we place our order and take delivery of a box of pastries via unseen hands and an ingenious spinning cupboard.
Heading north on highway A-382, we skim past Bornos, on the banks of a reservoir, before reaching Villamartin, where traditional Andalusian leather saddles and riding boots have been crafted by generations of artisans. Bucolic countryside becomes mountainous
terrain and, from Hangman’s Hill, we view the sturdy white houses of exquisite Prado del Rey, tucked between two vast natural parks.
In its cobbled, sloping streets, lined with aromatic orange and lemon trees, men animatedly discuss daily issues outside the bodegas. With 6,000 locals and more than 120 bars, it’s the perfect spot in which to relax over lunch at the Hotel del Carmen, an authentic Andalusian country house, before checking out the remains of a Roman town, Iptuci, just four kilometres down the road.
Travelling in an arc, we reach El Bosque (the forest), appropriately located amid pines and holm oaks. The area is famous for trout fishing: luckily, we don’t have to cast our net any farther than the bar at Meson El Tabanco’s sky-lit dining room for queso fresco salad and local goat’s cheese.
Continuing south on the A-373, we reach Ubrique, and only 10 kilometres separate me from some serious shopping. Before the steep corkscrew descent into town, we pull off the road to capture the spectacular sight of craggy Cruz del Tajo, rearing up behind splashes of snowy-white houses.
Down in the town, even the navigationally challenged can follow
the signs to piel, venta directa: leather sold direct. Stalking leather along Avenida Doctor Solis Pascual and its side-streets, there’s a headswivelling collection of butter-soft jackets in every shade. I could spend a small fortune saving money here. At sale times, prices are halved, making that saffron or tangerine jacket irresistible, while señor can choose from sleekly circumspect bitter chocolate and urban black. Leather is the town’s main commerce and we’re informed that the quality and style is the same as that supplied to Europe’s leading designers. I slip into a deep aubergine leather jacket as supple as silk and hand-crafted tan leather heels before heading to Avenida de España, where you can spend as little as three euros for a shiny coin-purse or 240 euros for a tailored jacket.
Olive groves slumber under a cerulean sky as we travel east to Ronda through the jaw-dropping Sierra de Grazalema Natural Park, richly carpeted with dark green Spanish firs and cork, holm and gall oaks and imprinted with refinement, culture, art and custom. Indeed, bullfighting aficionado Ernest Hemingway declared Ronda more romantic than Paris.
To the rhythmic jangle of harness bells, horses pull gleaming carriages along enchanting cobblestone streets, and the sound of a Spanish guitar drifts on air sweet with the scent of scarlet oleanders. Set on a soaring gorge split in two by the river Guadalevin, Ronda is simply charming: its streets are alive with colour by day; at night, the beautifully illuminated town is washed in glowing amber. A great bronze bull stands in the forecourt of the white-walled Plaza de Toros de Ronda, Ronda’s emblematic bullring. Walking to the centre of the ring, I’m encircled by a beautiful, tiered arena and an intense sun overhead casts long shadows on caramel sand.
At Hotel Hermanos Macías, the walls are papered with black-andwhite images of legendary matadors photographed with Hemingway and Orson Welles, who used to drink at the bar. We prop ourselves at the same bar, hung with Iberico hams, and contemplate the pueblos blancos of Andalusia, which seem to embody the very soul of southern Spain.
Photography by Robert Muir / imageink.
travel facts
getting there
getting around
- Avis, phone 13 6333 or visit www.avis.com.au
- Biznaga Travel Company, phone 02 8003 4007 or visit http://biznagatravelcompany.com
- Hertz, phone 13 3039 or visit www.hertz.com.au
- Ibertours Travel, phone 1800 500 016 (Australia) or 0800 444 843 (NZ) or visit www.ibertours.com.au
- Intrepid Travel, phone 1300 364 512 or visit www.intrepidtravel.com
- Rail Europe, phone 03 9642 8644 or visit www.raileurope.com.au
- Rail Plus Australia, phone 1300 555 003 or visit www.railplus.com.au
- Renault Eurodrive, phone 1300 551 160 or visit www.renault-eurodrive.com
- Tempo Holidays, phone 1300 558 987 or visit www.tempoholidays.com
- Trafalgar Tours, visit www.trafalgartours.com.au
where to stay
further information
|
|
10 ways to visit vietnam