Life: Idiotropic

We opted for the narrower road that shot to the right high about the town that kept us hugging the hill to our right and scared to look to the drop below.  It came to the end, then turned sharply down a steep grade I worried about getting back up at the end of the day, and there we were, in front of what's left of this castle.

The ticket to get in costs a whole 2 euros.  Kids are free.  I love that.  So we spent a good hour or so wandering around it craning our necks up, balancing on irregularly sized stone stairs to get to the top of walls that surround the remaining structure, then going inside, up to the top briefly to roast in the sun, then down.  Going down took a little longer than going up because not sleeping in that tiny spiral stone staircase was a bat and while I'm not afraid of bats, I'm a bit leary to enter an enclosed space while one is frenetically flying in spastic circles.   The girls were wildly excited.  The bat was just wild.  The staircase wasn't dark enough, so between the whole "blind bat" thing and the light and the high pitched squeals of glee that they were so close to a real live bat, our poor little friend was beyond confused and not settling down.  Eventually, he flew out of the staircase into the bright castle room and up into the next staircase to the top - probably not his smartest moment, but a great opportunity for me to venture into the stairwell and finally make my way down where we did pass another "smarter" bat who was taking a nap as he should.  Good bat.  I took his picture.

At the bottom we ran into a nice Spanish "couple" who were very chatty and told us the Spanish word for bat:  murciélago.  Apparently it's something else in Valenciano, but I've forgotten.  We ended up running into these two men several times and each time they stopped to chat.  Very friendly and they live in Valencia.   So far everyone I meet either has a relative in the states, or have lived or live in Valencia.  


They drove to the bottom of the hill.  We walked.  I think they must have thought us a bit crazy.  It's hot.  It's dry.  And this woman with three young-ish kids is about to walk all the way to the bottom of the hill.  AND back up.  Yep.  


But it's in the walking that you see and hear and breath in that which is where you are.  Translation:  You can't fully "know" a place by driving through it.  It's like having a layover in Frankfurt and saying you know the city.  Doesn't work.  


So we walked and sweated and I answered "are we almost there?" at least once per corner, but we enjoyed the narrow streets, laughed at the little construction vehicle trying to wind its way down, oohed and aahed at the cute doggies and kitties resting in the shade of doorways, and breathed in the smells of the kitchens we passed wishing we could be guests for a day.  Someone here can cook.  It's residential here.  All the business and shops are down below near the river, so we saw people walking back with plastic bags from Consum and others with bags of baguettes from the local bakery.  The only signage here is for a small museum and several for the "cuevas" that you can tour.


Cuevas are caves.  And not your typical ones here in Alcalá.  If you flip back to the first photo, you'll see tiny holes in the cliffs under the castle.  Closer still and you might notice glass windows set in.  Many of the homes in this town are built into this limestone outcropping and actually go all the way through it.  The entire river valley is full of these amazing caves.   Old, may be, but outdated, no.  Real people, now, in 2010 live here in these cavehomes and a few are open to the public to visit.  We didn't.  May be next time.  But just to see the tiny windows appearing seemingly out of no where on a large cliff face is pretty incredible.

We made it to the bottom to see the river Júcar and the canals that split from it.  There's an "island" in the middle of the river here and a nice park where people picnicked and rested in the shade.  The girls got a treat at the ice cream stand and played on the playground a while.

The ice cream stand is a long red box - may be the size of a small boxcare with a little door on the back and an opening along the top with a counter.  When the close, they can pull down the metal shutters and it's secure.  The area below the counter is full of coolers with ice cream.  The shelved wall behind is stacked with boxes of candies and chips.  And the counter itself is littered with stacks of clear white plastic containers full of all sorts of gummies and other sugary sweets sold in bulk.  Sugar overload.  A steady stream of kids came in swim clothes with handfuls of coins to trade for treats.  I was just happy they had granizado - like a slushy, but better, it's perfect on a steamy day like today.

On the walk back up we went into the church which is completely gutted.  The ceiling is beautiful. Some ornamentation still exists on the walls, but a construction vehicle sits in the center amid a piles of rubble and dust.  In the back a group of men took a little siesta around a set of plastic patio furniture.  They're working on restoring the place - a project that, at this rate, will take years, perhaps decades.

We reached our car and I held my breath while pushing all the way down on my gas peddle to get it up the steep hill back to the road.  It was scary with a drop on each side.  We took a different way back to Albacete,  following the river and looking for cave dwellings.  There's a huge fortified cave on one side so big it almost looks like an amphitheater.  One cave dwelling has a bright red painted facade.  We found another road that would lead us on switchbacks up the limestone wall, stopped at the top to take a picture of where we'd been, and saw this just on the other side of the bend we didn't take.

This place is amazing.  Another one on the long list of "we have to go back."