Vallanca

The morning mist clings to Vallanca's stone roofs like a damp blanket, and the village bell strikes seven with a sound that carries for miles across empty mountain slopes. At this hour, there's nobody about except an elderly man sweeping last night's rain from his doorway, and the silence feels almost physical after Valencia's coastal buzz.

Vallanca sits at 950 metres in the Rincón de Ademuz, a geographical oddity where Valencia's territory pokes into Castile-La Mancha and Aragón. Drive two and a half hours northwest from Valencia city, past Utiel's vineyards, and you'll find yourself in a place that feels more like Soria than the Mediterranean. The road climbs through pine forests until stone houses appear, huddled against mountain weather that can swing from scorching sun to snow within hours.

Stone Walls and Thin Air

The village's 130-odd residents have adapted their architecture accordingly. Houses rise three or four storeys, their thick limestone walls perforated by tiny windows and heavy wooden doors. Walk up Calle Mayor and you'll notice how each building leans slightly into the hill, as if seeking protection from winter winds that whistle down from the Montes Universales. Drainage channels cut deep into cobblestones, evidence of sudden summer storms that transform quiet streets into temporary rivers.

At the summit stands the Iglesia de la Asunción, its stone facade weathered to the colour of old bone. Inside, the air smells of incense and centuries, with a Romanesque baptismal font that predates the current building by three hundred years. The church bells still mark the day's rhythm – agricultural time, not tourist time – calling worshippers at noon and dusk regardless of season.

Walking Country

Vallanca's real attractions lie outside the village proper. A network of footpaths radiates into surrounding pine forests, though you'll need local knowledge to navigate them confidently. The PR-CV 405 trail heads north towards the cherry orchards of Castielfabib, following dry riverbeds that explode with wild roses each May. More ambitious walkers can attempt the climb to Cerro de la Horca (1,320 metres), where vultures ride thermals above a landscape stretching from Cuenca's cliffs to Valencia's rice paddies.

Autumn brings mushroom hunters wielding wicker baskets and sharp knives. The forests yield níscalos and boletus edulis, though locals guard their favourite spots jealously. Anyone foraging needs a regional permit (€15 annually from the Generalitat Valenciana website) and should stick to clearly marked paths – the Guardia Civil patrols regularly, and fines start at €300 for illegal picking.

Spring offers gentler pleasures. Almond blossom appears in late February, followed by wild thyme and rosemary that perfume hiking trails. Temperatures hover around 18°C – perfect for walking – though sudden showers can arrive without warning. The village's altitude means nights remain cool even in June, so pack layers regardless of season.

What to Expect (and What Not To)

Let's be honest: Vallanca isn't for everyone. There's nohotel, one bar that opens sporadically, and the nearest cash machine sits 25 kilometres away in Ademuz. Mobile reception drops in and out depending on which side of the mountain you're standing. The village's single shop stocks basics – tinned tuna, bread, cheap wine – but you'd be wise to bring specialist supplies from Valencia.

What you get instead is space to think. Dawn light spilling across empty plazas. The smell of woodsmoke drifting from chimneys. Conversations with shepherds who'll tell you, in impenetrable dialect, how their families have grazed these slopes since the Reconquista. Time moves differently here; nobody checks their watch, and the afternoon siesta lasts until four.

Food reflects this unhurried philosophy. Local restaurants (all two of them) serve cocido de cordero that arrives at table in clay pots, the meat so tender it slides from bone to spoon. Migas – fried breadcrumbs with garlic and pork belly – appears on most menus, a dish born from shepherd necessity rather than tourist expectation. The region's cherries, harvested in June, find their way into everything from jam to brandy. Expect to pay €12-15 for a three-course lunch including wine – prices haven't caught up with the coast yet.

Getting There and Away

Access requires planning. From Valencia, take the A-3 towards Madrid, exiting at Utiel for the CV-465 towards Ademuz. The final 30 kilometres wind through mountain passes where GPS signals falter; download offline maps before departure. Winter visitors should carry snow chains – the CV-465 closes during heavy falls, sometimes for days. Buses run twice weekly from Valencia's Estación de Autobuses, but services terminate in Ademuz, leaving a 25-kilometre taxi ride.

Summer brings relief from coastal humidity, with daytime temperatures peaking at 28°C compared to Valencia's 35°C. August's fiestas see the population swell to perhaps 400, as emigrants return for processions and outdoor dances that last until sunrise. Book accommodation months ahead if you must visit then – otherwise, September offers warm days, clear skies, and empty trails.

Vallanca won't change your life. It's too small, too remote, too indifferent to tourism's demands. But spend a few days walking its forests, drinking coffee in the plaza while clouds drift across mountain ridges, and you might find your internal clock resetting to something more human. Just don't expect anyone to make a fuss about it.