Puebla del Príncipe

Morning light over the Campo de Montiel

Early in the morning, when the sun still falls pale across the rooftops, Puebla del Príncipe carries the smell of damp earth and freshly turned soil. The square is usually quiet at that hour. A shutter lifts somewhere, a low conversation drifts from a doorway, and the steady trickle of water from the fountain fills the space. From here, the tower stands out against the sky, a cylinder of stone rising above the roofs and the open countryside of the Campo de Montiel.

With just over six hundred residents, distances are short. Within minutes, the edge of the village gives way to cereal fields and dirt tracks. In summer, cars passing along these paths lift a fine dust that lingers briefly in the air.

The tower that watches the plain

The entrance to the tower is not always easy to spot. It sits at the back of the building that now houses the municipal library, integrated into what was once a medieval fortification. If someone responsible for the building is around, usually in the morning, it may be possible to go up.

Inside, a narrow stone staircase winds upwards, its steps worn smooth. Even on hot days, the air remains cool. At the top, the Campo de Montiel stretches out in gentle undulations, shifting between ochre and green depending on the season. There are few tall trees, so the view runs uninterrupted for kilometres.

On the terrace floor, one slab stands out from the rest. Locals say it was uncovered during works some years ago, when old materials stored in the tower were moved. It is linked to a Roman find in the area, a small reminder that these lands were inhabited long before the village took its current shape.

Walking out to the ermita de Mairena

Around two kilometres from the centre stands the ermita de Mairena. The path climbs gradually, passing scattered holm oaks. In summer, the ground turns pale and dry. The landscape becomes a patchwork of harvested cereal and stubble that crunches underfoot.

The building itself is simple. White walls, a roof of curved tiles, and a door that is usually closed except during celebrations. Some of the green paint on the exterior shows older layers beneath. When it does open, the interior tends to carry the scent of wax and dry branches.

Each summer, a romería makes its way from the village up to the hermitage. This is a traditional rural pilgrimage, often social as much as religious. The exact date can vary, though it generally falls around mid-August. On that day, the route changes completely. Families walk slowly together, cars line the edges of the track, and groups settle under the shade of the holm oaks for hours.

Anyone walking the route in high summer will notice how little continuous shade there is. Early morning or late afternoon tends to be more manageable.

Midday smells from the kitchen

By midday, the rhythm of the village shifts. From inside houses come familiar smells for this part of La Mancha: garlic gently browning, roasted peppers, bread being stirred and fried in a pan.

Migas often appear on the table when days stretch longer or when there are people gathered at home. This traditional dish is made from fried breadcrumbs and usually includes pieces of chorizo or panceta. It is sometimes served with grapes or fried peppers on the side. At weekends, it is not unusual for someone to prepare caldereta de cordero, a lamb stew cooked slowly in a large pot with tomato and local wine.

These are dishes that continue to be made more out of habit than for display. They belong to everyday life rather than any formal occasion.

Days when the village shifts

During the celebrations of San Isidro in May, tractors appear freshly washed and are parked near the square or by the church. Children climb onto the seats while adults talk nearby, discussing harvests, rains that came too late, or how the cereal is looking that year.

In summer, there are often outdoor cultural activities. Some years bring street theatre or performances held in different corners of the village. They begin once the heat of the afternoon fades and the façades stop radiating the sun they have absorbed throughout the day.

At those times, the streets fill more than usual.

When the tower casts its longest shadow

Towards the end of the day, the sun drops behind the tower and the white houses take on a golden tone. The air cools quickly after sunset. Even outside winter, the smell of firewood sometimes drifts from chimneys.

It is a good moment for a final walk around the square before leaving. Gradually, the village returns to the quiet of the morning. A conversation lingers at a doorway, bells echo somewhere in the distance, and lights begin to switch on inside the houses.

Autumn is often a good time to explore the Campo de Montiel at a slower pace, without the intense heat of summer. August, by contrast, brings more movement with festivities and family gatherings, and the atmosphere shifts noticeably.