I love all things 34 degrees south. I grew up in the gorgeous Cape of Good Hope, traveled and danced the tango in Buenos Aires and have lived in Sydney for a decade. I love and have written about these three cities - they have different attractions but I am at home in each of them. I am convinced that if I traveled the 34 degree south line around the world I would find many other places to feel at home in.
I've recently discovered that I'm rather partial to the 38 to 44 degree North part of the world too. Well, at least those parts of Italy and Spain. Cinque Terra, the 'five lands' - the villages that run along the Ligurian coast in Italy - is gobsmackingly beautiful. Every view is a postcard perfect, and the small towns just ooze with Mediterranean charm. No sooner had we discovered the gelato coloured buildings and the men who walk their dogs and sing in operatic voices, the extraordinary architecture that allows the houses to cling to one another in a tumble of old dwellings threatening to fall into the Mediterranean, than it was time to leave and embark on a new journey of villages.
We headed for Valencia, to a the tiny town of Benirrama, the first of 8 pobles (pueblos) in the dry, mountainous cherry-rich Vale de Gallineri. We paid the scammy car hire place the quoted $49 for a week of car hire plus the gazillion dollars for insurance, and headed up impossible winding, narrow roads, on the right hand side in a manual car. Jethro and Francis reminded me helpfully (and regularly, in unison) to 'drive on the right, look to the left'. A useful reminder at dusk in the mountains in unfamiliar territory. I silently thanked my lucky stars that Francis and I travel well together as we negotiated traffic circles that the sat nav didn't recognise and I clutched the steering wheel, white knuckled.
The east of Spain is littered with buildings that have been started in a time of optimism and left in a time of financial difficulty. The massive river in Valencia last flowed many years ago, so the seene is somewhat apocalyptic with stony dry mountains, silhouettes of half finished buildings and prostitutes standing on the highway as the trucks race by. We could hardly have been prepared for the stark beauty of route of the 8 Pueblos of the Vall de Gallineri (the Gallineri Valley). On the other side of a series of tunnels, ringed by majestic mountains are the ancient villages, created in part by religious zealots and barons of the 12th to 18th centuries. Their charm probably equals the cruelty of the local wars of the time, but their beauty has endured. They have a certain romantic charm that visitors like us can't resist.
Like the Cinque Terra, these 8 villages are built with an architectural genious that allows them to last through the ages and serve the various generations that have farmed there. Benirrama, where we were lucky enough to stay, is the first of the 8 villages and was named after the family Rrama of Arabic descent. Beni means 'son of' and most of the villages in the area are Beni-something. Some are hard to pronounce, and the similarities in names makes the already difficult task of remembering where you've been on holiday well nigh impossible - names like Beniali, Benissiva, Beniaia and Benitaia then La Carroja and Al Patro. After a few days of driving and eating in these villages - the Menu Del Dia in some of the establishments is worth a visit to this area - we found the last name we came across hilarious. It was Benimarfull, which became known to us as Beni-mouthful.
In the Vall de Gaillineri May is the season of Cervasas (cherries). Everywhere we went we were offered cherries - plump, deep red and overflowing texture and juice. The boughs on the trees were heavy with cherries and driving the narrow mountain roads we could reach out of the windows and pick them as we drove, spitting the pips as far as we could - something the locals do as a sport. The giving of cherries in the Val de Gallineri is a sign of hospitality, of warmth, and of abundance. Neighbours pop in with plates of cherries. Bars offer cherries as you walk in. And most meals end with a big plate of cherries proudly offered from the tree of the gift-bearer.
We city folk were not so good at working out what the green things were on the trees - there were olive trees and bean trees and green-thing trees which turned out to be the tastiest apricots when they ripened. Most backyards had lemon trees groaning with lemons. We rescued the lemons that had fallen in our back yard and made lemonade and lemon preserve.
There, in the mountains, our little family went about our business with not much contact with anyone. The next week was quite different - a heavily discounted Mediterranean cruise that took us to Rome, Naples, Barcelona, Marseilles, Savona and back to Rome. A great experience being on a floating home that drops you at the door of each place you want to explore.
All this time between 38 and 44 degrees north has been exceptional, and even though I am a committed 24 degrees south person, I know we'll be back. I can't recommend it highly enough.
