When we reluctantly left Serón, in Andalucía, we were bound for the ancient city of Cehegín, in Murcia. A distance of about 120 miles.
Cehegín has been a looming presence on our wish list for many years, but we've just never quite got there. Probably because we suffer with the Places We Happen Upon and Have to Stop syndrome, and don't ever quite arrive at where we were going before being waylaid again.
This is also complicated by my tendency to drive very (very) slowly through the scenic bits in order that I can sneak a quick look when ‘it is safe and appropriate to do so’. And please, no sanctimonious condemnations about this practice, as it is wholly the fault of the Fiat motor company for designing and producing a vehicle that prevents anyone driving the Ducato who is less than about 5ft 2ins tall and/or have short legs. My good lady qualifies on all counts, so I have to drive. The proximity of the airbag explosion being one reason, plus another concerning scraping shins or something.
Predictably, I suppose, with a whole chunk of scenic stuff lying between Serón and Cehegín, and the distance being so far, we didn't make it. After dawdling through the vast empty landscape for many hours, we happened upon a place called Puebla de Don Fadrique, and were compelled to pause.
It's another of
