Calasparra sits where the Segura river leaves the hills of the Murcian interior, and anyone who has ordered a paella with proper grains has probably eaten its rice without knowing it. The town has its own protected denomination for rice, grown in terraces watered from the river, and the pale fields in the valley are an odd and welcome sight in country otherwise made of rock and scrub. Eleven thousand people live here, which means fuel, a bakery that opens early and plenty of bars where lunch is not a negotiation.
Abrigos del Pozo are two rock shelters in this part of the river valley, and they belong to the Levantine rock art that UNESCO lists for the Mediterranean basin. The paintings are red, small and quite delicate, figures of hunters and animals that are older than any writing in the peninsula. The shelters are in the landscape rather than beside a car park, so plan on a short walk from wherever the track ends, and be ready for the possibility that access requires a booking or a guide. Check locally before you ride out, as these things change.
The riding around here suits a relaxed pace. The roads follow the contours of the Segura gorges, with long straights through almond and pine, then sudden bends where the river has carved a canyon too narrow for anything but a viaduct. The Almadenes gorge, a short distance away towards Cieza, is a dramatic cut through the limestone, and a good excuse for an hour of photography. Cieza, bigger at thirty-five thousand, is the place for a full tank and a lunch with more choice than Calasparra offers.
The sanctuary of La Esperanza, which stands above the town, is the local pilgrimage site and has views over the valley that are worth the short climb on a clear day. In winter the mornings are sharp and sometimes foggy in the river bottom, while July and August are brutally hot. The best months are April, May and October, when the rice fields are flooded and reflect the sky, and the roads belong to you and a few farm trucks.