Arnedillo

The thermometer outside the pharmacy reads 38°C at four in the afternoon, yet thirty metres below the main road the Cidacos River is cold enough to make your ankles ache. This is Arnedillo's first lesson: nothing sits at the same altitude for long. The village clings to a limestone shelf 550 metres above sea level, pressed between canyon walls so steep that mobile reception vanishes if you step too far left or right.

A Gorge That Swallows Noise

Walk across the stone bridge and the N-232 traffic suddenly muffles, replaced by swifts screeching overhead. The streets behind the church are barely shoulder-wide; elderly residents park folding chairs outside front doors painted ox-blood red or mineral green. Ask for the pozas and they'll point downhill, adding "cuidado, resbalan"—the tiles get slippery. Five minutes later you're on a gravel path following steam that smells faintly of boiled eggs. The hot springs aren't sign-posted with corporate arrows; they simply appear as three rock-rimmed pools the colour of builder's tea, water gushing from a pipe someone wedged into the cliff decades ago.

The top pool hovers around 40°C—hotter than most British baths—while the lower two cool to a more tolerable 34°C. Entry costs nothing, though the council now posts a guard at Easter and August weekends to stop campers lighting barbecues on the stones. Bring flip-flops; the riverbed shingle reaches oven temperatures in July. An old sarong works better than a towel: less bulk in your rucksack and it dries while you walk back.

Walking Tracks That Start Vertical

From the church square, the PR-25 footpath sets off between two houses as if the builder forgot to add a gate. Within five minutes you're gaining a metre of height for every two forward, chest already asking questions. Stick with it: fifteen minutes farther the gradient eases onto a contour that delivers a full aerial view of the village rooftops and the canyon meandering south towards Arnedo. Spring brings orchid spikes among the thyme; autumn smells of damp leaves and gunmetal after showers. Either season beats mid-July, when air temperature can outstrip the hot-spring water and shade is currency.

If that sounds too gentle, continue another hour to the ruined castle of Arnedillo, a Moorish outpost dismantled during the Reconquista. Only base walls remain, but vultures cruise at eye level and the Sierra de la Hez stretches north like a rumpled green duvet. The round trip from village to castle and back takes two hours at British walking pace—add another thirty minutes if you stop to photograph every griffin vulture.

Food That Follows the Frost Calendar

Arnedillo has three proper restaurants, two bars and a bakery that sells out of pastries by ten. Specialities arrive with the weather: wild asparagus scrambled with eggs in April, river trout when the spring melt brings water down from the Sierra de Cebollera, partridge stew after the October shoot. Vegetarians aren't an afterthought: roast piquillo peppers stuffed with local goat's cheese appear on every set menu, and the baker will make a tomato-rubbed tostada even if the sign says "bocadillo de chorizo". House Rioja by the glass rarely tops €2.60—cheaper than the bottled water trucked up from Logroño.

Hotel Balneario TermaEuropa runs the posh spa if you fancy aromatherapy between soaks. A two-hour thermal circuit costs €28 and includes access to an indoor pool where the water is so mineral-rich your shoulders feel oiled for days. You don't have to stay the night; book at reception and they'll lend you a towel big enough to make any British holiday-maker feel vaguely Roman.

When the Day-Trippers Leave

Coaches from Zaragoza and Bilbao disgorge passengers at eleven, inflate the village population to roughly 1,200, then depart by five. Stay overnight and you'll discover the Arnedillo those visitors miss: church bells echoing against rock, hot-spring pools reflecting Orion, and hotel owners who remember how you like your coffee after one breakfast. There are two small hotels in the upper village—Hotel Palacios and Hotel Fuente del Vino—plus a handful of self-catering cottages carved into the hillside. Expect to pay €70–€90 for a double room in May or October, dropping to €55 in January when frosted lawns crackle underfoot and steam rises like kettle spouts from the river.

Winter brings its own logistics. The LR-123 approach road is kept clear, but snow can pinch the final four kilometres from Escucha. Carry a set of tyre socks even if the hire company laughs; temperatures drop to –5°C at night, and the village has one tiny petrol station that closes at eight. On the plus side, dawn soaking in 40°C water while your hair freezes is a story that plays well back in the UK.

Getting It Wrong So You Don't Have To

British visitors habitually try to squeeze Arnedillo between Logroño breakfast and Bilbao dinner. The lane timings look sensible on Google until you meet 30 kilometres of S-bends. Better to leave Logroño after coffee, arrive for lunch, walk the gorge late afternoon and claim a pool at dusk. Parking is free on the southern approach road—ignore the sat-nav lady when she attempts to thread you into the old town; the streets are single-track and residents leave wheelie bins in the middle because they can.

Pack trainers, not walking boots: limestone grit scuffs leather and the official paths are mostly graded gravel. Flip-flops live in the rucksack for the springs; the stones are slippery and razor-edged. Finally, bring a plastic bag for your swimsuit—the iron-rich water stains everything rust, and hotel towels charge €15 if you wipe yourself orange.

Check-out Time, or Why You Might Stay

The bus back to Logroño leaves at 14:10. Stand on the bridge as it pulls away and you'll notice how quickly the village resets: chairs return to doorways, a woman waters geraniums with a colander, the bakery turns its sign to "vuelvo pronto". Arnedillo doesn't sell itself with superlatives; it simply offers hot water, cold beer and a gorge deep enough to swallow deadlines. If that sounds like enough, book another night. If not, the road north opens onto La Rioja's vineyards within an hour—just remember to rinse the mineral smell off your skin before you taste the crianza.