Alhama de Murcia (Murcia)

A town that named itself after its baths

The Arabic prefix “al-” survives in half of southern Spain’s place-names, but few towns wear it as literally as Alhama. Al-hamma meant “hot baths”, and the 38 °C water that bubbles up beside the gorge still steams in winter air. The Moors built a hammam here in the 11th century; three centuries later the Nasrid king Muhammad IX swapped the entire town to the Crown of Aragón in exchange for military help and, crucially, uninterrupted use of the baths. Even royalty, it seems, appreciated a proper soak.

Today the spa is a low-slung modern building five minutes’ walk from the centre, but the original Roman and Arab stonework is visible through a glass floor in the reception. A 90-minute circuit costs €18, towels included, and the mineral hit (sulphate-bicarbonate, if anyone’s counting) is supposedly good for arthritic joints. In high summer the place fills with Murcian families who treat it like the local lido, so arrive before 11 a.m. or after 6 p.m. if you prefer quiet.

One ridge, two landscapes

Alhama sits at 200 m above sea level, low enough for lemons and aubergines to thrive, yet the ground rises so sharply behind the town that within 15 km you are among Aleppo pines at 1,000 m. That contrast explains why the same winter morning can start with frost on the windscreen and finish with lunch outside in 20 °C sunshine.

The castle keep, rebuilt after the 1579 earthquake, is the easiest vantage point. A five-minute climb from Plaza de la Constitución gives you the full cross-section: irrigated huerta stripes of green, the chalk-white gorge, and beyond it the semi-desert stepping up to Sierra Espuña. Entry to the fortress is free but the inner tower opens only on weekends; the view from the ramparts is reward enough.

Walkers can drive 12 km up the RM-502 to the regional park gateway at El Berro, where three way-marked loops (45 min, 2 h, 4 h) start among pine and rowan. In July and August you need to be on the trail by 8 a.m.; even then carry two litres of water. From October to April the same paths are perfect midday leg-stretchers, and you’ll meet more Spanish griffon vultures than people.

Lunch at Spanish time – or go hungry

British stomachs sometimes struggle with the clock. Kitchens open at 13:30 and close again at 16:30; if you appear at 17:00 expecting a sandwich you’ll be offered crisps and a sympathetic smile. The trick is to treat the gap as the Spanish do: have a beer, watch the square fill, and wait for the evening session at 20:30.

On Tuesdays the covered market spills into the streets. Stallholders shout the price of pimiento peppers and huerta tomatoes in rapid Murcian, but ask for “un cuarto de queso curado” and they’ll switch to slow, patient Spanish. For a picnic, buy a wedge of aged goat’s cheese and a loaf of candeal bread, then drive 8 km to the gorge car park where picnic tables sit beside the thermal river – the water is still warm enough for a barefoot paddle in April.

For sit-down food, El Laurel on Calle La Feria prints an English menu but won’t hand it over unless you look puzzled. Portions are built for agricultural appetites: the empanadilla de rabo de toro (oxtail pasty) arrives the size of a Cornish pasty and costs €3.50. Follow it with carrillada (beef cheeks braised in Rioja) and you’ll still be under €15 before wine. House red is served chilled, Murcian style, and a large glass is €2.20.

A castle, a church and a very British car-parking tip

The historic core is compact. Start at the tourist office beside the town hall (open 10:00-14:00, 17:00-19:00 weekdays; Saturday mornings), pick up the free map, and you can cover everything in 90 minutes. Highlights: the castle already mentioned; the 18th-century Iglesia de San Lázaro whose neoclassical façade dominates the main square; and two hidden plazuelas – de los Arcos and de San Agustín – where the stone benches are shaded by orange trees that drop fruit in January.

Street parking is tight. Murcians abandon their cars at rakish angles and somehow fit; visitors usually can’t. Use the free Polideportivo car park on Avenida de la Libertad: flat, generous bays, and a five-minute stroll into the centre past children on scooters and grandparents on benches. From there the old town is uphill, but the gradient is gentle enough for pushchairs.

Fiestas that turn the volume up

San Lázaro, the patron-saint fiesta at the end of August, is when the population doubles. Brass bands march at 02:00, fireworks bounce off the gorge walls, and the thermal baths stay open until midnight with disco lights under the water. If you want sleep, book a room on the modern outskirts rather than the old quarter. Conversely, if you want Spain at full volume, arrive the weekend before the main parades and you’ll get it free.

Semana Santa is quieter but still intense. Six cofradías carry statues that date from the 17th century through streets barely three metres wide; the drummer’s beat echoes off the stone like a heartbeat. Seats in the Plaza de la Constitución are free – just turn up 30 minutes early.

When to come, and when to stay away

April–May and late September–October give you 24 °C days, 12 °C nights, and wild rosemary scent on the breeze. December can be T-shirt weather at midday but expect 4 °C in the morning; the thermal baths feel even better when there’s frost on the path. July and August are fierce – 38 °C is normal – yet the town’s bars are geared to siesta culture: shutters down from 14:00 to 18:00, everything bathed in white light. If you do come in midsummer, follow the locals: walk at dawn, nap after lunch, reappear at 22:00 for dinner on a terrace cooled by the gorge draught.

Rain is scarce but when it arrives the streets become rivers. Check the forecast if you’re planning gorge walks; the limestone absorbs water quickly and flash floods can close trails for 48 hours.

Getting here without the stress

Alicante airport is 70 minutes by hire car, Murcia-Corvera only 25. From Murcia city the A-7 autovía delivers you to Alhama in 30 minutes; the exit is clearly signed, and the final 4 km are on a single-carriageway road that climbs gently into town. There is also a twice-daily bus from Murcia’s main station, but the last return leaves at 19:30 – fine for a day trip, useless if you want dinner.

No train line reaches Alhama, which is probably why tour coaches haven’t discovered it yet. For now the easiest soundtrack is Spanish chatter, clinking coffee cups, and the faint hiss of thermal water running through old stone channels.