Mendaza

First Light at 639 Metres

The tractor headlights appear before dawn, climbing the switchback above the village at 639 m. By the time the sun clears the Sierra de Urbasa, three kilometres away, the driver has already checked three rows of vines and scared off a pair of wild boar. This is how the day begins in Mendaza: engines first, church bells second, breakfast third.

British visitors arriving from Bilbao—ninety minutes down the A-68, right at Logroño, left at Los Arcos—often reach the village during the quiet middle hours when only dogs move. The thermometer on the stone wall of the ayuntamiento might read 32 °C in late July, but it will drop to 14 °C after midnight. At this altitude the air thins just enough to make the first climb out of the valley feel longer than the map suggests.

A Grid of Twelve Streets

No one gets lost here: the centre is a rectangle of twelve short streets, each one stone-channelled for rain run-off. Houses are built from the same ochre limestone that the fields keep turning up; roofs are of curved terracotta, many still weighed down with stones against the north-westerly cierzo wind.

The 16th-century parish church sits at the highest point, its tower visible from every threshing floor. Step inside and the temperature falls ten degrees; the stone floor is worn into shallow bowls where centuries of boots have pivoted on the same flagstones. Look up and you’ll notice the roof timbers are numbered—Roman numerals carved during assembly so the beams could be taken down and rebuilt after the 1813 fire. Outside again, follow the alley that drops eastwards: the wall on the left still carries a shadow-outline of the old forge, demolished in 1978, like a photographic negative in stone.

Walking Tracks That Start at the Pavement Edge

Leave the last house behind and you are already on camino real NR-502, a gravel track that lifts you 200 m in the first kilometre. Oaks give way to holm oaks, then to low thyme and rosemary as the path rims the ridge. From the top the view opens north towards the limestone walls of Urbasa, south across the cereal quilt of Tierra Estella.

The loop to Zudaire takes two hours at British hill-walking pace, longer if you stop to identify the griffon vultures that cruise the thermals. Download the Wikiloc file before leaving home—way-marks exist but brambles swallow them after wet springs, and the local council only sends the brush-cutter twice a year. Footwear? Approach shoes suffice in summer; in winter, when the track turns to chocolate-coloured clay, proper boots and gaiters save socks.

If you prefer level ground, follow the river Ega downstream for 4 km to the ruined monastery of Irache. The grain silos you pass are still loaded by conveyor belts older than most travellers; the night watchman waves if you arrive before his 22:00 shift change.

When Lunch Depends on the Combine Harvester

There is no pub, no café, no village shop. The last grocer closed in 2009; the nearest cash machine is 12 km away in Estella. Plan accordingly: stock up at the Mercadona on the Estella ring road, fill water bottles at the public fountain beside the frontón court, and remember Spanish lunchtime finishes at 15:30 sharp.

What you can taste, if you time it right, is whatever the valley produces that week. October brings tiny chanterelles sold from the back of a white van—bring your own bag and expect to pay €8 a kilo. In March the same spot offers tender baby artichokes. Knock on the doors marked “Se venden huevos” and someone’s grandmother will appear with a tray of still-warm eggs at €1,50 per half-dozen.

For a sit-down meal, drive twenty minutes to Camping Acedo where the restaurant does a safe escalope milanesa and chips alongside the local lamb. They speak English at reception, handy if your Spanish stalls at “una cerveza, por favor”.

Festivals Measured by the Wheat Cycle

The big day is 15 August, Fiesta de la Virgen, when the population swells to 600 and the village square becomes an open-air kitchen. Lambs turn on spits from 09:00; by 14:00 the smoke drifts over the church like incense. At 23:00 a brass band strikes up; couples dance until the generator cuts out at 03:00.

Smaller, odder events mark the agricultural year. On the first Sunday after Epiphany the “Blessing of the Seeds” takes place in front of the church: tractors line up for a priest with an aspergillum and a bucket of holy water. Visitors are welcome to stand at the back, but cameras during the prayer draw sharp looks.

Winter White-Out and Summer Brown-Out

Come December the altitude turns against the traveller. Night frosts harden the mud into ruts; the road from the N-111 can ice over before Pamplona even sees sleet. Chains are rarely required, but hire cars on summer tyres slide backwards on the 12 % gradient. Between January and March only one bus a week reaches the plaza, market day Thursday, and it leaves again at 11:00.

Summer brings the opposite problem: water shortages. The municipal supply is switched off between 14:00 and 17:00 to top up the header tank. Fill bottles in the morning or you will find only a cough of air from the tap.

How Long to Stay

Mendaza works best as a half-day halt on a driving circuit: morning walk, picnic on the ridge, afternoon drive on to the Romanesque bridge of Puente la Reina. Stay longer only if you crave silence loud enough to hear your own heartbeat. Night skies here register a Bortle class 3—Milky Way visibility guaranteed when the moon is down. Bring a red-filter torch; street lighting consists of four lamps that switch off at midnight.

Accommodation within the village is limited to one self-catering house, booked through the Estella tourist office. Most Brits base themselves at Camping Acedo’s pine-log bungalows, where the pool opens in May and closes the day school starts in September. Expect to pay €85 a night for a two-bedroom unit, linen extra, dogs welcome for a €5 supplement.

The Honest Verdict

Mendaza will not change your life. It offers no souvenir shops, no Michelin stars, no dramatic canyon selfies. What it does provide is a working example of how half of Spain still lives—tied to soil, weather and seasons. Arrive expecting cathedral-quiet broken only by dogs and tractors, and you will leave content. Arrive hungry for nightlife or artisan gift-shops and you will be asleep by 22:00, dreaming of the drive back to Pamplona.