Calzada de Calatrava

The castle ruins appear first, perched 646 metres above sea level on a volcanic cone that dominates the horizon. Twelve kilometres before you reach Calzada de Calatrava itself, the Castillo de Calatrava la Nueva commands attention—a crumbling fortress that most visitors mistake for the village's centrepiece. They're wrong, of course, but it's an easy mistake to make when you're racing down the A-4 between Madrid and Granada.

The Village That Knights Built

Calzada proper sits in the valley below, a working Manchegan town where 3,704 residents go about their business largely indifferent to the tour buses that occasionally spill out day-trippers. The name derives from the Roman road that once ran through here towards Mérida, though today's visitors are more likely to arrive via the motorway services at Puerto Lápice, five minutes north.

The Knights of Calatrava made this place significant. Their medieval military order established one of their most important commanderies here, and the evidence remains scattered throughout the town centre—if you know where to look. The Iglesia Parroquial de Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria rises above the skyline, its tower visible from virtually everywhere. Built on medieval foundations but reconstructed over subsequent centuries, it functions less as a tourist attraction and more as the village's beating heart. Sunday mornings see the square thronging with families, while weekday evenings bring out the pensioners for their paseo.

Wander the historic core and you'll spot noble coats of arms carved into stone facades, remnants of the knights who once called this home. Don't expect a perfectly preserved medieval quarter—Calzada wears its history more casually. Renaissance mansions sit beside 1970s apartment blocks, creating a timeline in brick and mortar that feels refreshingly uncurated.

Beyond the Castle Walls

The famous castle deserves its reputation, but treat it as a separate destination. The access lane—narrow, cobbled, and alarmingly steep—requires nerves of steel in a hire car. British drivers appreciate the free parking at the summit, a rarity in Spain, though larger vehicles might struggle with the tight turns. Go early, before 10 am, to explore the ruins in solitude. By half eleven, Spanish school groups swarm the walls and the magic dissipates.

Back in the village, the volcanic landscape that shaped this region reveals itself more subtly. The Campo de Calatrava's extinct cones create a distinctive horizon—rounded hills that catch the evening light, turning the earth copper-red. Millions of years of geological activity have left their mark, though you'll need to venture beyond the town limits to fully appreciate the phenomenon.

The Ermita de la Virgen de Consolación sits a twenty-minute walk from the centre, following a dusty track past olive groves. This small sanctuary hosts local romerías and provides a pleasant destination for an evening stroll. Pack water—there's nothing between the village and the chapel, and summer temperatures regularly exceed 35°C.

Market Day and Manchegan Fare

Sunday transforms the main square. One fruit and vegetable stall sets up beside a van selling Manchego cheese, creating Calzada's version of a market. It's hardly Borough Market, but the cheese vendor offers tastings of curado that's mild enough for British palates and travels well. Stock up here—there's no cash machine in the village, and the nearest ATM lurks fifteen minutes away in Almagro.

Café Bar El Parque occupies the prime spot opposite the church, its terrace filling quickly after mass. They serve a decent toasted Serrano sandwich that even fussy children will tolerate, while locals cluster inside for cañas and conversation. The house red costs less than a London bus fare and proves entirely drinkable—order it by the glass rather than splashing out on the more expensive reserva options.

Manchegan cuisine runs hearty here, designed for agricultural labourers rather than delicate appetites. Migas—fried breadcrumbs with bacon and chorizo—appears on most menus. Ask for it "sin chorizo" if you prefer less spice. The traditional gachas (a thick porridge) and pisto (ratatouille-style vegetables) showcase local produce, though portions verge on enormous. Plan a siesta rather than a hike after lunch.

Walking Through Volcanic Countryside

The volcanic terrain offers surprisingly good walking, though route-finding requires effort. Several rural paths connect Calzada with neighbouring villages, winding through cereal fields, vineyards, and olive groves. The landscape feels almost African—scrubby vegetation, red earth, and those distinctive volcanic cones punctuating the horizon. Summer walking demands an early start and copious water; the sun here carries serious weight.

Cyclists find quiet secondary roads perfect for leisurely exploration. The gradients never reach Alpine proportions, but the combination of sun, wind, and rolling terrain provides sufficient challenge. Spring proves ideal—wild flowers carpet the fields, temperatures remain reasonable, and the light carries that special clarity that makes everything photograph better.

Winter brings its own character. At altitude, temperatures drop sharply after dark, and the famous Manchegan wind—la galerna—sweeps across the plains with impressive force. Many bars close their terraces, moving social life indoors. The castle becomes genuinely atmospheric, its stones glowing amber in the low sun, though you'll have it largely to yourself.

The Practical Reality

Calzada de Calatrava makes no concessions to mass tourism, which constitutes both its charm and its limitation. English remains rare—download a translation app before attempting castle tours. Monday finds most things closed, including the tiny interpretation centre. Tuesday through Saturday, the village functions normally, though "normal" here means slow, deliberate, and entirely Spanish.

Most British visitors treat it as a thirty-minute leg-stretch, a pause between Granada and Madrid to let children run off energy in the playground beside the church. They're missing the point. Stay longer, linger over coffee, climb the volcanic hills at sunset, and Calzada reveals itself—not as a destination, but as a window onto a Spain that tourism largely bypassed. Just remember to bring cash, wear proper shoes for castle climbing, and abandon any expectation of souvenir shops or organised entertainment.

The knights chose this spot for strategic reasons. Modern travellers might choose it for precisely the opposite—because nothing much happens here, and sometimes that's exactly what you need.