I was supposed to go to Madrid, as I had a free ticket to see the restoration of the façade of the local museum Museo de Madrid up close, but I ended up cancelling due to having been in Madrid the previous day. I really did not care much about the visit, but I had signed up because it was a limited-time thing, and to be honest, I get FOMO when I read “for so long only”. However, I had heard somewhere that there was a chance that the lavender fields would be left fallow the upcoming years, so I guess I felt FOMO in the opposite direction. I had already visited the lavender fields in Brihuega, collectively known as Campos de Lavanda de Brihuega during sunset a few years back, and while in theory the view is prettier, I found that the lavender did not look… purple enough. Maybe it was the angle of the light, maybe it was too late in the summer already, but the flowers looked greyish. Thus, I wanted to see them during normal light once.
The lavender sown around Brihuega is Lavandula angustifolia, a herbaceous plant native to the Mediterranean areas. It grows in small bushes with narrow leaves, and it is popular for its uses – it can be applied in traditional medicine, in the kitchen (as herb or tea) and commercially, to produce lavender essential oil, which has hundreds of cosmetic uses: perfumes, soaps, balms… While it was the region of Provence, in France, which put “lavender watching” out as an activity, for the last 15 years or so, the village of Brihuega has made a name for itself during July as a tourist destination.
I drove to the fields and I reached the makeshift parking lot around 9:00, when there were few cars and just a bus of tourists. I wandered around for around an hour and a half, doing my best not to damage the plants and get a good picture or two – including macros of bees. For the first while, I stayed in a smaller field to listen to the sounds, but then I moved onto the bigger fields for better views.
When I felt I was done, I hopped back on the car and set off towards a nearby place I had always wanted to see. The Sat-Nav sent me through Yela, a tiny hamlet with a Romanesque church Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de los Llanos and two medieval fountains. Technically, it is a neighbourhood of Brihuega, and it has a horrible road. However, it was still better than driving through Brihuega itself, which I had to do on my way back.
Fortunately, I did not come across any other car in the opposite direction, but I did breathe in relief when I got to the larger road, from which I accessed Cívica, population 14. There are remains of a Roman villa, and in recent times rumours spread of Medieval knights and Jews in hiding, but this Brihuega district is famous due to a structure built in the mid 20th century.
Though quite a few websites rant on about the “mysterious ruins” in the hamlet, their history is well-documented and widely known in the area. Between 1950 and 1970, a priest from a nearby village convinced a number of neighbours to buy the rocky land lot and work on it. He wanted a sanctuary, a bar, a chapel, all of the above at the same time. It was to be a magnificent complex. What the priest managed was to transform a karst rock wall with natural caves into an interesting façade with carved interiors that would serve for celebrations and debauchery. During the 1980s, it was all the rage amongst celebrities and rich people to go partying there, though it eventually lost its importance and closed down. Its ownership was inherited by a group of siblings who did not find it worth of any effort. A few years ago, it was bought by an entrepreneur who hopes to turn it into a rural hotel – and who shows it around at weekends for 2 € per person. There was a phone number to contact them for a visit, but I had no signal. Fortunately, I ran into the owner as he was starting a visit, so I joined in.
The façade of what can be called Caserío de Cívica has several arched doors (similar to the Visigoth arches in the Brihuega wine caves), balconies and stairs. The interior hosts bars and shelves. Deeper areas, the original caves, can double as wine cellars where drinks could be kept cold when they were still served. Though the Internet keeps saying that “the ruins are abandoned”, this is no longer true – they can be visited by appointment or at the weekend, especially if you are lucky enough to have signal to phone the owner so he shows them to you.
First we were shown the original bar, outside the property itself. Then we went in towards the second bar and the “caves”. Afterwards, we visited the party area, including the booths, which today are a dishevelled garden. Finally, we climbed all the way up to the modern caserío (homestead). Thus, the visit starts on the ground floor, next to the road, and you ascend through the different levels – the garden, the balcony and the upper area, where you can actually walk into one of the natural caves used for food storage in the past. To be honest, after reading so many conspiracy theories on the Internet, hearing the actual mundane story of the “ruins” was almost disappointing. However, it was really cool to check the inside, something that could not be done before – at least not legally.
After the tour, I hopped into the car, and the Sat-Nav directed me back through the village of Brihuega itself. If driving there is difficult already (I ended up having to park outside the town last time), with the lavender activities, and it being a weekend, traffic was chaos. I was lucky I had the right of way so I could leave quickly, and I was soon on the speedway, having watched the lavender and learnt the secrets of Cívica.
JBinnacle – A Travel Logbook 