ALBARRACIN AWESOME
Of murallas and cobblestones, of opulent palaces and crooked homes, of ongoing renovations and painstaking restorations
It was such a tall order. Or so it seemed. But oh no, he delivered!
I seriously teased my Cebu-born nephew Alfonso, who has resided in Valencia, Spain all his young adult life, to arrange for a weekend trip like-no-other to a destination that will simply take my breath away in more ways than one. His top choice: Albarracin.
This once-upon-a-time medieval and now an excellently-preserved 16th to 17th century pueblo, is considered by many españoles as one of, if not the most beautiful, in España. It likewise comes with priceless praises from the international traveling community. A quick search online on this little town bursts into an avalanche of overwhelmingly desirable reviews. Among them include the Most Beautiful Village of 2018.
A couple hours away from the culturally-rich and high-tech city of Valencia, this jewel of the province of Teruel completely shocked us, as we stood wide-eyed at its impeccable preservation, deserving to be hailed as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. Situated some 4,000 feet above sea level, this laid-back district is totally surrounded by ancient murallas and enveloped by the Rio Guadalaviar as a huge moat, which protected the villagers from enemy invasions in times of old.
We were thrilled to be billeted at the Casa De Santiago, which was alluringly transformed into a few irresistible suites, boasting of artistically restored classical furniture and fixtures, complemented by centuries-old paintings of rural settings. We soon discovered it was the hamlet’s oldest-standing residence beside their very own chapel.
Upon check-in, I succumbed to my old habit of customarily drawing the drapes—the heavy curtains often seen in manor houses and palaces. We immediately spotted the Torre del Andador, on the highest peak within the entire township. The caliphate edifice, which provided valuable intel for the citizens in the past, has since been named a National Monument.
The stars aligned when we met Antonio Jimenez, the Secretary General and Managing Director of Fundacion Santa Maria d Albarracin, a team that continuously restores and preserves the surviving relics of this municipality, who guided us with his very heart and soul, as we ecstatically delved into an entire day of unexpected more-than-just-pleasant string of discoveries. He, without a doubt, represented everything to love about Albarracin.
Our first stop was the Calle de Portal de Molina, a lengthy, narrow, crooked cobblestone streets with exciting twists and turns. Wherever we spun, each corner promised another hidden curiosity.
The beyond-belief, most-visited attraction is absolutely the Casa Julianeta, with its iconic slanted shape, termed as the “crooked house” by locals. This extraordinarily true home is an extreme yet masterful execution of the architectural style exclusive to Albarracin: irregular in design, with weird angles and offbeat sides. The inside hosts small superimposed rooms, one on top of another, connected to each other through a complex system of stairways. It utilized mainly plaster and wood but still stands strong to this day due to the restoration and rebuilding efforts of the townsfolk.
Owing to its status as a historical and cultural artifact, this trend of maintaining unorthodox buildings have resonated through the borough. Its impact is truly immense, and this is acclaimed all throughout the nation. Today, it even accommodates guests and is likewise the venue for seminars and workshops.
The Rincon del Abanico, we speculated, was probably a recipient of this aforementioned ongoing spirit to uphold the unique style. Nestled in a faraway corner, it was an enclave composed of timber and sandstone four-story-high houses with tiled rooftops, all built in obscure perspectives and gravity-defying viewpoints which hit us like a bolt, utterly in awe. We wondered how each of these homes stood even with what seemed like precarious volumes of frail supports—testimonies that it has stood the test of time as these reminders are now revered as cultural landmarks.
We then moved on to the much-anticipated opulent Catedral de Albarracin, an aged house of prayer with a solitary nave and a polygonal Gothic ceiling, all surrounded by vaults of preeminent Renaissance sculptures of the Lord and other Biblical figures. A gilded Baroque altar centerpiece was definitely a blessing to the eyes. Encased in the original noble rooms of the adjacent Episcopal Palace was the Diocesan Museum, inaugurated by Queen Sofia of Spain herself.
Though their way of life was spare and spartan, the collection of religious relics were nothing to scoff at. There was a fabulous Flemish tapestry assemblage and a curated selection of crucifixes each with their own embellishments.
A curious detour within the museum brought us face to face with murals that sadly were slowly starting to fade away. But we were reassured they would soon be restored to its original glory.
The Crystal Fish on exhibit with a silver mouth and golden fins, pearl and ruby accents is commonly lauded as an expertly-crafted piece, possibly the obra of not just one individual, but of several talented masters.
We took a short break at a mom and pop diner which served traditional and local tapas with a twist, carefully crafted from family recipes passed down through generations. We were introduced to their found-only-in-Albarracin fried pig ears—the right amount of crunch blended with its innate chewiness.
Ambling by the RK Pastelleria Tradicional 1945, we brought home a score of almojabanas, a corn and cheese bun considered a delicacy and pride of the place.
To our delight, souvenir shops were few and far in between—but each had their own specialty. The Taller
de Ceramica was our favorite. Though small in size, it showcased several take-me-home pottery items made by a resident virtuoso sculptor who has dedicated his life to his chosen field.
We ended our walking tour at the Plaza Mayor, the rustic picturesque Castilian community square that reflected an area in motion with villagers who lived their slow-paced daily lives in harmony.
The barrio that stood still was devoid of my pet peeve— telephone poles and wires and many more unsightly messes. It showed remnants of a two-level muralla which this National Monument was built upon.
As dusk came, each house and every establishment atop several rolling hills switched their lights on and quickly flooded the darkness with their own little sparks—forever etched in our memories.▪