And so we left Tragacete, but not without driving along a river bed that was also officially part of a road.
A question: When is a Citroën not a Citroën? Answer: When it Fords a river. Oh, what scintillating wit!
Next on our list of to-dos was a visit to the Ciudad Encantada, or literally Enchanted City. To get there we had to growl up a narrow mountain road behind a pair of camper vans. Still, it gave us time to admire the view. When we arrived, our enchantment dissipated like dew-laden gossamer in a gusty gale. You had to pay to get in. We didn't, so we didn't.
Climbing back into trusty Mr. Bubbles, we began the drive back and I had plenty of time to admire El Salto hydroelectric power station. Its architecture is breathtaking - more like a monastery than a power plant. Unfortunately, the road is so tortuous and narrow that my Dark Lady was unable to park, so we took no photos. Luckily however, the job had been done magnificently by JR Regaldie for his blog. This link is definitely worth following!
By now, camera fatigue had also set in, so by the time we got to our next port of call, a trail leading to the source of the river Cuervo, few photos were taken, but here they are.
On the way up, we passed a family who clearly took this outdoor adventuring lark seriously. The degrees of seriousness were, moreover, reflected in the dress of the individuals. The teenage daughter was in jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of trainers and the mother in a nice tracksuit and trainers. The father, however, was a man on a mission. He had a determined look on his face and obviously meant to out-Livingstone Livingstone in the exploring game. He sported tight-fitting lycra leggings (he was definitely nowhere near being in the Linford Christie league), fluorescent walking shoes, technical T-shirt and jacket, a torch, whistle, compass and mapholder hanging off his belt and all of those little pockety things in his backpack bulging with energy bars. Perhaps that's what Linford Christie... No, let's not follow that particular train of thought!
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| The waterfall with a secret... |
My Dark Lady, myself and most of our fellow walkers were as irresponsibly dressed as the daughter and with our recklessly rash attitude towards the correct garb for survival in the great outdoors, richly would we have deserved any natural disaster that might have befallen us. To this day, I don't know how we survived or found our way along the well-kept and clearly signposted wooden walkways. When I look back on my foolishness, I tremble to think what might have happened. Anyhow, in the best traditions of Mallory, Hillary (no, not Clinton, the other one!) Tensing and The British Climbing Man, we persevered and were rewarded with a sight and sound that made the 1-km walk worthwhile. The photo is merely a taster of the experience. The sound of the water cascading over moss-clad rocks into crystalline pools was entrancing. Hats off to the Dark Lady for her choice of Easter holiday destination!
And the waterfall's secret? next to a viewing balcony I spotted a water company manhole and, following its orientation, espied a line of younger trees and undegrowth marching up the hill in a straight line. My conclusion? In times of drought, water is piped to the fall to preserve its flora and fauna. What a wonderful idea!
It was now getting late and time to head back - we had about 100 km to travel to get back to La Vaquería, or about 250 if we took any notice of the Wicked Witch that had possessed my Google Maps app.
Back in La Melgosa, a very friendly old lady told us how to get to the village's ghost restaurant ("you can't miss it!"), or to another one in a nearby village. We decided to try the other one, as we had passed the place where the locals claimed the village restaurant was several times and had seen no sign of an eaterie.
To get to the other village we had to drive down a - yes, you've guessed it - rutted farm track in the dark.
And promptly we got lost.
We could have gone the long way round on proper roads, but where's the fun in that?
Luckily, it turned out - as even hypereconomical Citroën C4s need diesel occasionally and My Dark Lady's was down to its last 8km - we found a petrol station whose manager rather cautiously directed us to the Restaurante Isis. We, however, found the food to be good, plentiful and cheap, although the hostal itself seems to get mixed reviews.
And so ended our second day in Cuenca - with a delicious meal served by the owner, a Ray Liotta lookalike whose pj-clad wife held sway at the bar. These (eminently respectable, non-revealing) pyjamas are a constant in tripadvisor reviews. Indeed, she was still wearing them the following day when we stopped there for brekky, although swanning around the place in pjs in the morning somehow seems more natural to me than holding a soirée in them with dining clients at about 9 at night.
The best of company, beautiful countryside, adventure, both on foot and at the wheel, good food, friendly locals, plus the occasional eccentric. Who could ask for more? A perfect day, indeedy.
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