Cocentaina

The first glimpse is deceiving. Approaching Cocentaina from the A7, warehouses and petrol stations line the road like any Spanish commuter town. Then the GPS directs you left, up a steep hill, and suddenly you're negotiating narrow medieval streets where laundry flaps between stone houses and the 14th-century palace of the Counts of Cocentaina looms overhead. This split personality—industrial outskirts sheltering a perfectly preserved historic core—explains why so many motorists bound for the coast drive straight past.

At 430 metres above sea level, Cocentaina sits where the Serpis River meets the southern flank of the Sierra de Mariola. The altitude matters. Even in August, evenings bring relief from the coastal humidity. Winter mornings can touch freezing, and when the tramontana wind blows down from the mountains, locals break out heavy coats that would look excessive in nearby Alcoy. The microclimate makes this a year-round destination, though spring and autumn deliver the best walking weather.

Two Villages in One

The town's Moorish past isn't decorative marketing—it's urban planning. El Raval, the lower quarter, follows the labyrinthine pattern established by Islamic settlers. Streets narrow to shoulder-width, then widen unexpectedly into tiny plazas where elderly men play cards beneath citrus trees. Steps climb steeply to La Vila, the Christian upper town, where the Counts' palace and the Iglesia de El Salvador dominate strategically important ground.

The palace deserves more than a photo stop. Built between the 14th and 16th centuries, it functioned as both residence and fortress, with Gothic windows punched through Renaissance walls and an interior courtyard that hosted both medieval councils and modern civil weddings. Opening hours remain frustratingly inconsistent—weekend mornings only, and even then you might find the guard has stepped out for coffee. Check locally rather than trusting websites.

The church presents similar challenges. Its octagonal bell tower, visible for miles across the valley, houses a peal of bells that still mark the hours as they have since the 1700s. Inside, the Gothic portal gives way to Baroque excess—gold leaf, polychrome saints, and an altar that locals claim contains wood from the original Moorish mosque. Whether that's true matters less than the fact they believe it, and will tell you so during the brief window between morning mass and lunchtime closure.

Mountain Cooking, Mountain Prices

Food here reflects altitude and history. Rice dishes feature rabbit and snails rather than seafood, cooked slowly over wood fires that fill kitchen courtyards with aromatic smoke. The local embutidos—particularly a soft morcón sausage spiced with paprika—pair brilliantly with robust reds from neighbouring Villena. Prices run 30-40% below coastal equivalents; a three-course menu del día including wine rarely exceeds €14.

Then there's L'Escaleta. This Michelin two-star restaurant, located improbably in an unremarkable building on the outskirts, has made Cocentaina a culinary destination. Chef Kiko Moya serves tasting menus that reinterpret local ingredients—think rice cooked in smoked butter with wild mushrooms, or lamb raised in the Mariola foothills. The wine list spans Spain with occasional French outliers, and staff speak fluent English without the coastal resort condescension. Book weeks ahead, especially weekends. They'll accommodate vegetarians with advance notice, though the experience definitely favours omnivores.

Walking Through Layers

The marked Ruta dels Molins follows the Serpis for three kilometres past ruined watermills that once powered the town's textile industry. Interpretation boards explain how Moorish engineers diverted water through channels that still function during winter rains. The path is gentle enough for families, though river crossings require balance—ancient stepping stones become slippery when wet.

Serious walkers head for Mariola proper. The PR-CV 82 trail climbs 600 metres to the Moorish watchtower at Montcabrer, rewarding effort with views across three provinces. The round trip takes four hours, starting from the Ermita de Sant Cristòfol on the town's northern edge. Summer hiking starts early—by 10 am the limestone paths radiate heat, and shade remains scarce until the higher elevations. Winter brings different challenges: ice can linger on north-facing slopes well into March.

When the Town Transforms

Cocentaina hosts two events that completely overturn its normal rhythms. The Moros y Cristianos festival in mid-August fills every street with marching bands, gunpowder, and elaborate costumes weighing up to 30 kilos. Accommodation within 20 kilometres becomes impossible to find, and parking requires both patience and creative interpretation of traffic regulations. The experience is either magical or overwhelming, depending on your tolerance for simulated medieval warfare at 2 am.

November's Fira de Tots Sants predates Columbus by four centuries. For three days, the population quadruples as merchants from across Spain sell everything from hand-forged agricultural tools to artisanal cheeses. The medieval fair occupies the entire historic centre, with food stalls replacing traffic in streets too narrow for modern vehicles anyway. Go early—by midday the crowds become shoulder-to-shoulder, and leaving requires swimming upstream against thousands of incoming shoppers.

The Practical Bits

Driving remains essential. Alicante airport lies 65 kilometres south, Valencia 95 kilometres north—both approximately one hour via motorway, longer if you hit commuter traffic around Alcoy. Trains serve nearby Alcoy station, but onward bus connections to Cocentaina run only twice daily. Once here, everything's walkable, though comfortable shoes matter—the climb from El Raval to La Vila involves serious gradients.

Parking strategy defines your experience. The free car park behind L'Escaleta works perfectly for day visits, requiring only a five-minute walk to the historic centre. Attempting to park within the old town guarantees frustration; streets designed for donkeys struggle with modern vehicles, and local drivers display alarming confidence in gaps that seem impossibly tight.

Accommodation options remain limited. The converted 17th-century convent at the top of town offers eight rooms with period furniture and modern bathrooms, though light sleepers should request courtyard-facing rooms—church bells start at 7 am sharp. Several village houses rent rooms informally; enquire at the tourist office in the Casa de la Villa, where the staff switch effortlessly between Spanish, Valencian, and surprisingly good English.

Cocentaina won't suit everyone. Those seeking polished medieval tourism—gift shops selling identical ceramics, restaurants with English menus featuring photos—should continue to the coast. The town offers something rarer: authentic Spanish provincial life where tourism supplements rather than dominates the economy. Come for the palace and stay for the hiking, or base yourself here for cheaper accommodation while exploring the Mariola range. Just don't judge it by the industrial approach—park the car, climb the hill, and discover why locals have been living here for 2,000 years.