A delightful circular walk from Aracena in Andalucia, Spain via the pretty village of Linares de la Sierra.

Date walked: 11th April 2019

Distance: about 8 miles (12.4.km)

Guide Used: Cicerone’s Walking in Andalucia by Guy Hunter-Watts (2016). I had also bought a map called the Sierra de Aracena Tour and Trail Map by Discovery Walking Guides but at 1:40,000 scale and with little detail it was of little use.

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Hola! Como esta usted?  Mi nombre es Charles Hawes…. OK, that’s quite enough showing off of my newly acquired Spanish. The fact is that when Bob and I decided to go to Spain this spring, neither of us could  do anything than order a beer (and I couldn’t do that).  Which was both embarrassing and frustrating in equal measure (though no one else seemed to mind). So since our return I have been determined to do to better next year  (yes, we are going back) and have been doing short daily lessons on my Duolingo App (free, good fun if very repetitive but I am making progress: Donde esta la bano? Enough Charles!).

So why Spain, when we have been enjoying our excursions to France so much and where we can just about get by with French? Well, just for a change really and we thought that it would be warmer (but not too hot). I don’t think either of us had heard of the Sierra de Aracena but it sounded like a great place to do some (not too strenuous) walking. And we both liked the idea of visiting Seville to start (and we could get flights there from convenient airports to our homes which arrived within a short while of each other).

Just to give you a context then, here is a map of Andalucia (Andalusia if you prefer).

You ought to just about make out Seville, half way up the left hand side of the pic. Squint hard and look north-east from there and you might see the Parque Natural Sierra de Aracena and a blot that is the town of Aracena.  “Yo quiero dos billetes a Aracena, por favor”, was what I  should have said at the ticket booth, (yeah, yeah, give it a rest)  but somehow we got them anyway. It took about an hour and a half to get there from the big bustling coach station on a very nice and very cheap coach.

The Rough Guide to Andalucia is quite keen on Aracena, describing it as attractive and blessed by remarkably sharp, clean air. Here’s a pic I took from near the Iglesia del Castillo on our first days walkabout.

My, that air looks clean and sharp, doesn’t it?

We were staying in the Hostal Molino del Bombo,  which doesn’t look very special from the outside…

More like a police station?

… but the Rough Guide described it as charming with attractive and comfortable en-suite rooms, and we both thought it was just great and we really liked our landlady, with whom we did best in French.

My room – with a mini balcony

The devotees amongst you will have already noted that this year we were not using the services of a self-guided walking company.  Whilst we have enjoyed our “thru” walking weeks, it does feel a little restless and a bit of a drag to be having to unpack and re-pack every day, and then to carry an anxiety (usually but not always grounded) about whether our bags would arrive before us.  And its a fair bit cheaper to “do it yourself”.

Is that enough scene setting?  Yes? Let’s get on with the first walk. Here’s a map of our route.

Our hotel was on the north side of town, just 10 minutes walk from the centre where our walk began. Here’s a pic of a happy Bob sitting by a statue of a farmer with some pigs.

This was opposite the museum of ham (El museo del Jambon) – the locals are very proud of their ham; we thought it OK.

Walking down the Avenida de Huelva, we kept getting glimpses of the Castillo above us.

I was intrigued by a man who was greeting a caged bird.

Seems a very small cage for a sizeable… what?

Behind the walls of several properties, last years oranges were left unpicked on the trees.

No les guste jugo de naranja?

At the bottom of the street we arrived at the Plaza San Pedro, a square populated by palms and orange trees.

Glancing at the windows of a gift shop we were disturbed by the prevalence of what appeared to be Ku Klux Klan effigies.

We discovered later that these are what the penitents wear in the Easter Semana Santa processions of which we were to see two during our stay.

Opposite the square was a rather beautifully preserved (restored?)public wash-house.

We were to see a good few of these during our stay but none as pretty

Such a lot of cultural differences to take in, though the Spar clearly crosses cultural borders.

Even in this quite busy town swallows were nesting in the eves of many of the houses and dozens were swooping silently by us just above the ground, presumably finding enough bugs to feed their young.

After 20 minutes or so, we had left the outskirts of the town and were heading for open countryside. It was a warm (but not too warm) and beautiful morning, the light quite harsh (hence many of these pictures are very contrasty, the camera having more difficulty than our eyes in accommodating such variance of light and shade).

Most of  land in this region is known as dehesa. According to Wikipedia the name comes from the Latin ‘defensa’, (fenced), referring to land that was fenced, and usually destined for pasture.  During our walks we were to pass many metal gates hung on stone pillars.

In the fields, horses and goats grazed, but in nearly all the fields were plantations of trees.

Here, an olive grove on the far side of the field

The most striking  trees were the cork oaks, though, their trunks bright orange where the bark had been stripped.

Wine corks, still, it seems, cork floor tiles, cricket bat cores, floats.

These trees were often standing in ones and twos next to the path, but all were clearly being managed for their bark. We asked ourselves and then not knowing the answer, Google what the bark was being used for; most of the wine that Bob and I drink having metal screw caps.  But several fields were planted just with these impressive trees.

Our path was contained by rough stone walls. Mosses and lichens colonised their crevices and several ferns, one particularly pretty little one that I did not recognise.

Asplenium ceterach, it seems (also a British native)

And along the path and dotted within in many of the fields were different cistus, some white and others blue-flowered.

The wild flowers in spring are renowned in this part of the world and I stopped often to snap and identify the path-side garden.

Lavendula stochas – known to me as French Lavender

A broom – possibly Spartium junceum (Spanish Broom)

Some I couldn’t place and yet seemed familiar.

Our path wound gently down the hill, shaded often by the arching Cork Oaks. This was easy, relaxed walking- a delight.

Occasionally we came by  hand-made signs to reassure us that we were heading in the right direction.

The mixed languages here made me smile

But mostly we didn’t have to worry that we were on the right track and were able to enjoy this peaceful countryside and take time to look around.

It was very quiet, with little evidence of anyone being at work. Little lizards scuttled around….

… and in one or two of the fields a loose dog would bark a greeting though the fence….

….. but mostly the soundscape was of the unseen crickets and the scrunch of our feet on gravel.

The path dropped down to give us a view of Linares, raising our hopes that we might find a cafe there for a cool drink.

Our Guide book informed us that we were on a drovers path on this section, and we passed over a little pack-horse (though almost certainly mule)  sized bridge as we neared the village.

I’d love to know what the inscription says

At another little bridge we paused for a pic.

Someone has painted some trees on the outskirts of Linares.

They needn’t have bothered

Turning right, a laid stone path lined with slightly incongruous lamp posts led us up to the church.

Cats were the only creatures that seemed to be in occupation;

we disturbed a binful of them.

White walls, cobbled streets and clay tiled roofs were the main features of this quiet village.

Sadly the church of San Bautista was shut….

… but we wandered round its far side….

…passing a little fountain….

……and found ourselves peering down onto a square that had a cafe in one corner.

Happy days.

This square doubles up (or at least used to) as a bullring, tiers of seats on one side being strategically placed above the wall that the matadors would hide behind when they were in fear of being gored.

We couldn’t work out how they closed off the section where I was standing to take this pic

Refreshed by a drink and a little break our route out of the village took us though several little streets;

the entrances to the houses were often formed of decorative cobbled designs or Llanos. Our Guide described them as unique. I doubt they are but they were pretty.

We passed a little public washing pool…..

…..  where, shunning the ribbed stonework, one woman (no doubt paid to do so by the local tourist board) was washing some garment with Fairy Liquid and a plastic scrubbing board.

The way back to Aracena was mostly uphill.  We met an English couple who we had also said hello to in town who sympathised with our climb but it was pretty tame compared to a lot of hills that Bob and I have climbed.  I remember it being rather greener and more shaded. The flora continued to please. I spotted a pretty nearly white periwinkle…..

….growing with a yellow flowered plant I couldn’t name….

… and several other plants in leaf that would surely flower soon.

Lily family?

The soil here was almost as deep orange as the stripped bark of the cork oaks.

We passed one patch of ground where the farmed boar had stripped the ground of all vegetation, their bodies dusted orange.

As we climbed so our views opened out to the surrounding Sierras…..

,… until we arrived close to the A470 road that rumbled above us and were rudely greeted by Aracena’s expanding urbanisation.

Still even walking back through the streets was interesting; flowering date palms……

… huge Brugmansias….

…..and this pink flowering tree I couldn’t place being a rarity in my neck of the woods.

I can’t remember what time we got back but I’m pretty sure it was in plenty of time for a siesta. Perfect.

Entonces fue en la ciudad (ok, I’m cheating here).

Dos cervazas grandes por favor!!!! (I do know that now)