On The Trail Of The Mountain Moors
Sun Herald
Sunday January 18, 2004
Brian Carovillano goes back in time to perhaps Spain's friendliest region.
WE arrived in the Andalusian village of Pitres on the last day of Spain's 12-day Christmas celebration to find a band and costumed marchers celebrating Three Kings Day in the main square.
A man launched a skyrocket from his hand as the kings, a trio of local farmers, emerged from the church.
Two wore wigs of flowing curls, the third had a black face. Each mounted a wooden trailer towed behind a tractor, and the procession weaved through the centre of Pitres, with the kings tossing lollies to the children.
Like everyone else in town, we followed along and were welcomed with smiles and a shower of confetti.
This was our introduction to the Alpujarras , a friendly region of tiny whitewashed villages that has enchanted travellers for centuries.
After a hectic week touring some of Andalusia's great cities, our group of four had come seeking the quiet of the Sierra Nevada mountains.
On its way from the sierra to the Mediterranean, the trickle of melting snow has chiselled deep gorges into the southern flanks of Spain's highest mountains. It's a place of broad vistas and country hospitality, of villages rising improbably from the near-vertical landscape, and well-trodden footpaths winding through pastures, olive groves and orchards.
The high places offer views of the sparkling Mediterranean 60 kilometres away. Beyond is the shadowy skyline of Morocco's Rif Mountains .
This glimpse from Europe into Africa isn't unique in Andalusia. But perhaps nowhere else is the connection with the Islamic past more evident. Four centuries ago, this was the last stronghold of the Moors in Europe, and many of the high, quiet villages still feel exotic.
We had arranged a house rental in Mecinilla , part of La Taha , a district dating to Moorish times.
Mecinilla is connected to its larger neighbour, Mecina , with which it shares a church near a grove of almond trees. The flat, white houses piled atop each other spill down the mountainside like patches of old snow.
Steep, narrow lanes wind through the village. Flowering vines billow from balconies and climb the whitewashed buildings. The streets are too narrow for cars, so we parked on the outskirts of town and walked to our home for the week, Casa Berenjena . It has three bedrooms, a living room, dining room and study, each with a low-hanging ceiling constructed of rough-hewn beams and slate. Its spacious country kitchen was once used as a cooking school by a French chef.
The wood stoves and fireplaces are the only reliable source of heat. The back door opens onto a stone patio perched 300 metres above the valley.
And all for just 50 euros (about $82 ) a night!
We explored paths along old stone walls, through the mottled sunlight of orchards and olive groves, and past fields lying fallow for winter. Here and there we heard goats bleating, their bells jingling.
Every village offered a communal fountain many decorated with cheerfully painted tiles spouting pure mountain spring water for our water bottles. One fountain tapped a naturally carbonated spring.
Everyone, from farmers in fields to women filling jugs in the village square, greeted us. And the views were stunning down the long funnel of the valley towards the sea and uphill towards the snow-capped Mulhacen , Spain's highest peak.
One day we went down to an ancient Roman bridge spanning the Trevelez River on the valley floor, then back up the other side. On one side was a sheer drop of a couple of hundred metres down to the raging river. From the top, sharply serrated ridges rise in endless succession.
From here, it was easy to see why the retreating Moors fled to this secluded place to make their final stand. After seven centuries of Islamic rule, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella reclaimed Granada for Christendom in 1492. As part of the terms of surrender, the conquered Muslim ruler, Boabdil, was given the Alpujarras valleys.
Soon after, all Moors were ordered to be baptised as Christians or face expulsion from Spain. Many who refused to convert sought refuge in the Alpujarras, the epicentre of a bloody Moorish revolt in 1568.
After the rebellion was suppressed, survivors were expelled and the villages were repopulated with settlers from northern Spain.
The Moors' legacy can be seen in the bright, woollen blankets and scarves for sale in the villages and in the Arabic flavours of the local cuisine.
The architecture of the flat-roofed houses and domed chimneys is said to mirror that of the Berbers' mountain villages on the far side of the Strait of Gibraltar .
Almonds, figs, olives and apples grow here, and the milk of local goats and sheep is used in cheese. The hams of prized Iberian pigs are brought from around the country to Trevelez, which claims to be Spain's highest village, to cure in the dry mountain air.
Although the region is not heaving with tourists, it feels international thanks to the expatriates who've settled there. Some villages boast vegetarian and macrobiotic restaurants; a few old farmhouses have solar panels. But it's a place of proud traditions, as we learnt when we encountered the Three Kings' parade. We joined hands with the marchers and savoured the end of another perfect day in the Alpujarras.
I F YOU GO
Consider renting a car to reach the more out-of-the-way villages. Follow the N323 south from Granada (toward Motril ). After about 34 kilometres, exit on the A348. Follow this road east through Orgiva , where you will turn left on to GR421.
GO BELOW SNOW
Although the upper slopes of the Sierra Nevadas are blanketed in snow for much of the year, it rarely snows in the Alpujarras. Winter temperatures can reach 15-20. House rentals in the Alpujarras can be found at www.inicia.es/de/berenjena/.
© 2004 Sun Herald