Fanzara

The first thing you notice is the goat. Three metres high, painted in petrol blues, it stares down the street from somebody’s living-room wall. A minute later you meet a girl with a television for a head. By the time you’ve circled the church, you’ve counted astronauts, wolves, a giant carp and a poem about apricots. Fanzara, 229 m up in the Sierra de Espadán, has no coastline, no castle and barely 300 residents, yet it receives more photographers per capita than most Costa resorts. The reason is MIAU—Museo Inacabado de Arte Urbano—an “unfinished” museum that turned every gable, drainpipe and garden gate into legal canvas.

Paintbrushes in the Olive Groves

The project began in 2014 when two locals invited graffiti crews to brighten a village losing its young to Valencia and London. Instead of a weekend jam, the painters kept returning; farmers offered walls, bakers fed them, grandmothers posed for portraits. Eight years on, more than 120 works overlap across the labyrinth of Moorish lanes. Some are immaculate, others already weather-faded; the council refuses to retouch them, arguing that cracks and sun-bleach are part of the show. Walking the route is simple: start at the tiny information hut on Plaza de la Iglesia, pick up a donation box map (€2 suggested), and look up. Narrow alleys open into sudden vistas of orange terraces and pine ridges, the valley of the Mijares glinting silver 200 m below.

The village itself measures barely 400 paces end to end, so the pleasure is in dawdling. One mural lists every household nickname—”El Moro”, “La Perruca”—in bubble letters the size of dustbin lids. Another reproduces a 1950s wedding photo three storeys tall; the couple’s grandchildren still live behind it, hanging washing beneath the bride’s plaster smile. Mid-week you may have these discoveries to yourself. Spanish visitors tend to arrive Saturday late morning, fill the only bar, photograph the goat, and leave after coffee. By teatime the streets echo again with sparrows and the clack of pétanque balls from the shaded plaza.

When the Hills Feel the Heat

Altitude softens the blast of Valencian summers, but only just. July and August temperatures still reach 35 °C; the white walls reflect glare like mirrors. Plan a morning raid: leave the coast early, reach Fanzara by 09:30, walk the circuit while shadows are long, then retreat to the river pools at nearby Ribesalbes before the asphalt begins to shimmer. Spring is kinder—April brings the scent of azahar from the orange groves drifting uphill, and local fiestas mean free paella cooked in a metre-wide pan on the street. Autumn adds reddening persimmons and the first wood-smoke; winter can be sharp enough for frost, and the 18 km access road sometimes closes in high wind. Check the AEMET weather app the night before if you’re travelling November to February.

One Bar, a Church and a View

Practicalities are refreshingly minimal. There is only one place to eat within the village: Bar MIAU, open Thursday to Sunday, 11:00-15:30 and 19:00-22:00. A plate of paella de conejo y pollo costs €8, coffee €1.20, and the owner will refill your water bottle if you ask. The 16th-century church of San Miguel keeps erratic hours; ring the bell by the south door—if the sacristan is around he’ll show you a Roman tablet found in the olive terraces. Everything else is self-service. Trainers are essential: lanes are cobbled and, in places, a 1-in-5 gradient. Bring a hat and a litre of water per person; the nearest shop is 8 km away in Arañuel.

Those wanting a longer outing can follow the PR-CV 173 footpath that drops from the upper cemetery to the Mijares gorge. The five-kilometre loop passes through abandoned oil mills, two railway tunnels and deep pools green enough to tempt a swim May through September. Allow two hours, carry dry shoes in a plastic bag—river rocks are slippery—and remember mobile coverage vanishes in the canyon.

Getting There Without Tears

Public transport exists but tests the patience. Autocares Herca runs a daily bus from Castellón at 07:05, returning 16:30; journey time is 75 minutes and the stop is a 400 m uphill walk from the paintings. Most Britons base themselves on the coast and drive. From Valencia, take the A-7 north, exit CV-20 towards Sant Mateu, then follow CV-195 and CV-196. The final 12 km wriggle like a dropped ribbon; allow 40 minutes despite what the sat-nav promises. Parking is free on the rough ground just before the village entrance—leave room for the farmer’s tractor, he’ll be through at dusk with a trailer of oranges.

The Catch

Fanzara’s size is both its charm and its limitation. Unless you combine the visit with hiking or a detour to the medieval town of Sant Mateu, you will be heading home after lunch. Accommodation inside the village amounts to one three-room guesthouse; most travellers day-trip from Castellón or coastal Sagunto where hotels run £55-90 a night. Rainy days strip the place of colour—murals darken to a dull mosaic—and the bar shuts without warning if trade is slow. Come prepared, not expectant.

Yet for a swift hit of contemporary Spain unfiltered by souvenir stalls or multilingual menus, Fanzara delivers. You will leave with neck ache from looking upward, shoes dusty from ochre lanes, and the odd photo of a pensioner explaining why a Brazilian crew painted his donkey purple. It isn’t the coast, the mountains or the city—but it is proof that, given paint and permission, a village can write itself back into the itinerary.