Morella

Driving north from Peñíscola, through the windy and narrow road, surrounded on all sides by more and more mountains, you really have no idea what lies ahead. As you concentrate on the tight turns and try not to panic as the oncoming cars pass you much too close, you don’t have much time to think about anything other than surviving the next few kilometres. And then you reach the mouth of a valley and this is what you see:

(It looks more impressive in real life, honestly.) Morella and its castle seem to serve as a beacon to weary travellers: a place of rest after an arduous journey. It is also a feast for the eyes. I do find it amazing how many seemingly out of the way little towns have been so integral in the history of this land. But then Morella isn’t just an out-of-the-way little town. Strategically located equidistant from the major cities of Barcelona, València, and Zaragoza, it has changed hands many times, and played an important role in the politics of the kingdoms surrounding it. Origins of the settlement here date back to prehistoric times as evidenced by cave paintings (which I did not get to see, alas), and throughout the ages peoples as varied as the Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Visigoths, and the Moors all made their presence known here. Even when under Spanish control it was still fought over by the various regional powers and it was a thorn in Franco’s side many years after the Civil War officially ended. To say you “breathe history” here is definitely an understatement.

It is also a very picturesque place so it is no wonder it’s considered to be one of Spain’s most beautiful villages. Unfortunately for us, however, we got there with little daylight left and here, deeper in the mountains, the skies were no longer the beautiful blue of Peñíscola but rather increasingly a somber grey making the stone walls of the city even more foreboding. The bus dropped us off just outside the main gate, Porta de Sant Miquel, which isn’t all that inviting but I guess that wasn’t really the point, was it? When everyone and their vassal is trying to invade you, you build a massive scary-looking tower or two and see how eager the outsiders are then. Fortunately for us, the gate was open and the town itself quite welcoming, if a little quiet. It was, after all, a Sunday afternoon, and Spaniards aren’t known for much activity on Sunday afternoons: that’s their post-paella siesta and family time.

As we climbed the narrow and very steep streets up to the historical area, we could only imagine what the town looks like at this level on a busy sunny day. Some things were open, allowing us to pop in and look around, such as the place where the massive Fallas figures were hiding (or at least that’s what I thought they were: Las Fallas are a Valencian thing, but these massive figures are everywhere so they’re probably used for various processions. I failed to note what these dudes were for, sorry). The shops that were open had amazing varieties of local specialties, cheese and honey being the ones that stood out most. We even got a little tasting at one of them.

Just below the castle is a very large church, Església de Santa Maria la Major, the main door of which is comparable in size and quality to the one in cathedral in València, and according to Julio the guide, it was the prototype for the one at La Seu. It is really quite impressive. A little way beyond the church is the entrance for el Castell de Morella, except that was as far as my weary legs would carry me. The castle itself was much, much higher still, and the climb would take a good half hour. Seeing the sun setting, I decided that I would have to leave Castell de Morella for another day when I can leisurely stroll not only around town but also have enough energy to climb up to the top of the castle, the view from which I am sure is spectacular. On a cloudy day and with so little daylight left, it really didn’t make any sense to go on. A few of us who declined the castle visit and waited below for the rest of the group, and rested as well as getting some nice pictures even from there. You can see those and others in the Gallery, of course.

Now it was time to get some refreshments except the curse of small towns on Sunday afternoons was in full force and finding a place that was open proved much more difficult than anticipated. We did find one, eventually, and had a bit of coffee. By this time it also got dark and chilly, as it does early in the mountains, and it was time to go back to València. Unfortunately, this also meant a good two-hour bus ride, most of that down a narrow windy road, in the dark. I now understand why there is a new highway being built from Morella to the coast: a road which I’m sure will bring more tourists and commerce to this lovely town, but also make the drive heck of a lot safer. It also helps that the current president of the Comunidad Valenciana is from here; it’s nice to have friends in high places.

As we made our way home, I had two things to worry about: one was that my companion was suffering greatly from car-sickness, and the other was the fact that we were going to be back in València at a rather late hour and the place we were going to be dropped off wasn’t exactly convenient for transit. With the midnight curfew looming, the organizers decided to let a bunch of us off next to a metro station to help get everyone home safely before the cops started stopping and fining people. The first part of the plan worked out great: we joined a few of our fellow excursionists and chatted while waiting for the metro to the centre where we would need to change to another line. Once that train came, we only had a couple of stops to the line we needed. Already we could tell there was a little bit of desperation in people’s eyes as we all waited longer and longer for the next train. I was surprised the metro trains don’t run nearly as often as I expected, even on a Sunday night, but I figured they would have been more accommodating and tried to get folks home before curfew. I guess the city of València and EMT (the local transit authority) couldn’t care less if people were stranded all over town. Finally our train showed up and we hopped on feeling quite relieved. We were going to make it home in time. Except we weren’t. It seems we got confused at the connecting platform and ended up taking the right train but in the wrong direction! And there wasn’t one going back again at all by the time we got off at the next station. My Plan B at this point was to take the tram home, since we were at a station where it also connected, but as we got closer we discovered the entrance to the tram was all locked up for the night. We were stuck. I could feel Ewa starting to panic just a bit at this point, and on top of all this excitement she was still feeling ill effects of the long drive, albeit less now. I had to think quick and the only plan I had left was to grab a taxi home. As we emerged from the metro station we realized that doing so may also not be very easy, as there were few cars on the road by this time. We still had about half an hour to make it home but the prospect of walking all the way there through totally unfamiliar neighbourhoods wasn’t exactly appealing. After a few minutes of walking towards and down busier streets, we got lucky! A taxi showed up except he was looking for someone who had requested a car. We told him it wasn’t us but since there was nobody else around, he took pity on us and let us climb into the car. We were going to beat the clock after all! And we did, with 20 minutes to spare. I have to admit I was quite pleased with myself throughout this whole ordeal: never once did I panic nor even worry all that much; I just kept going from Plan A to Plan B to Plan C, just like in the morning. I felt a bit like a teenager trying to get home from a party before my parents realized I snuck out. I guess it was fitting that a day that started off crazily would end that way too. All in all, it was a fantastic day and I can’t wait to go on another excursion like this. I think early in November there is a trip to Xátiva and Bocairent which we’re planning to join. I hope Ewa will catch the bus on time this time; I will be taking a different route since I will have moved to my new lodgings by then!