Mark Colenutt's Blog: Jousting with Windmills - Posts Tagged "zufre"
A Special Place in Spain
There are obviously many places to choose from. Is it possible just to choose one? It's a tough decision. However, I am going for something unknown to the majority. I am not interested in the costas where some overdeveloped 70s generic mould of bland architecture ripped the soul out of anything characteristically Spanish. In such places, you could be anywhere where cheap construction and maximum profit were given prioroty over decent living space and human scale. Some, if not all, is shocking in its assault on the eyes and senses. And modern inner-urban Spain is not far behind its coastal counterparts.
But Spain is still a bite-the-back-of-your-hand beautiful country and that's part of the reason why I have lived here for the past 20 years. And that is precisely where I will be taking you now...
I would recommend Aracena, which is hidden in the hills sandwiched between Huelva and Extremadura and about 45 minutes east from Seville.
It is green rural Spain with whitewashed villages and terracotta tiled rooves that sit like sturdy buckled teeth. City dwellers come here to escape the acute summer heat intensified by unforgiving concrete and tarmac. The rest of the year they come to wine and dine in the rustic idyll.
Architecturally, the villages are secluded gems from hilltop Zufre to valley-based Aracena and Alájar. Aracena's caves are the very entrance to the centre of the Earth, as filmed in the sci-fi classic and among the most spectacular caves in Spain.
There are fortifications of the Knights Templar, a medieval mosque open to all, Spain's oldest bullring and a village that can only be accessed on foot. The air is scented with the homely smell of wood-burning smoke, the aroma of grilled meat and filled with watchful vultures circling overhead.
This is also the land of the rightly famous Iberian mountain ham from the peninsular-based black pigs and is Spain's most prized delicacy. Pepys's buried his parmesan during the Great Fire of London in 1666 to save it from the flames; all Spaniards would leave their burning abode with kids under one arm and their expensive leg of Iberian jamón under the other.
The modest towns of the sierra contain charming cobbles, which are coloured green by tufts of greenery. The pinched patchwork of streets are lined by white-Wensleydale adobe town houses. Their organic feel is something that complements rather than offends Mother Nature. Time has come to a stop here and the rat race has not been allowed to encroach. This is a place where people can still breathe with ease. Joggers have been replaced by strollers, car horns have ceased up and birdsong can even be heard during the daylight hours.
This is an area of abundant natural beauty and somewhere I regular escaped to when I lived in nearby Seville. Now that I live further afield, it is somewhere I often visit in my imagination and where I long to return and will do so, just as soon as I retire...
But Spain is still a bite-the-back-of-your-hand beautiful country and that's part of the reason why I have lived here for the past 20 years. And that is precisely where I will be taking you now...
I would recommend Aracena, which is hidden in the hills sandwiched between Huelva and Extremadura and about 45 minutes east from Seville.
It is green rural Spain with whitewashed villages and terracotta tiled rooves that sit like sturdy buckled teeth. City dwellers come here to escape the acute summer heat intensified by unforgiving concrete and tarmac. The rest of the year they come to wine and dine in the rustic idyll.
Architecturally, the villages are secluded gems from hilltop Zufre to valley-based Aracena and Alájar. Aracena's caves are the very entrance to the centre of the Earth, as filmed in the sci-fi classic and among the most spectacular caves in Spain.
There are fortifications of the Knights Templar, a medieval mosque open to all, Spain's oldest bullring and a village that can only be accessed on foot. The air is scented with the homely smell of wood-burning smoke, the aroma of grilled meat and filled with watchful vultures circling overhead.
This is also the land of the rightly famous Iberian mountain ham from the peninsular-based black pigs and is Spain's most prized delicacy. Pepys's buried his parmesan during the Great Fire of London in 1666 to save it from the flames; all Spaniards would leave their burning abode with kids under one arm and their expensive leg of Iberian jamón under the other.
The modest towns of the sierra contain charming cobbles, which are coloured green by tufts of greenery. The pinched patchwork of streets are lined by white-Wensleydale adobe town houses. Their organic feel is something that complements rather than offends Mother Nature. Time has come to a stop here and the rat race has not been allowed to encroach. This is a place where people can still breathe with ease. Joggers have been replaced by strollers, car horns have ceased up and birdsong can even be heard during the daylight hours.
This is an area of abundant natural beauty and somewhere I regular escaped to when I lived in nearby Seville. Now that I live further afield, it is somewhere I often visit in my imagination and where I long to return and will do so, just as soon as I retire...
