Some places on a map look like they were made for motorcycles, and the Maestrat is one of them, with its folded limestone and its small roads that rarely carry anything heavier than a delivery van. Centelles, between Catí and Albocàsser, is a quiet corner of that plateau, and it is where you leave the modern world for an hour and walk to a rock shelter that holds paintings from before farming took hold of the valleys.
The approach takes you across upland country that feels more Aragonese than Valencian, with long skylines of pale rock, oaks and juniper, and in the distance the pyramid of Penyagolosa, which at 1,813 metres is the highest point of Castellón. The roads here are narrow but clear, with bends that are easy to read, good for cruising rather than racing. Cold air lingers in the hollows in winter, so on frosty mornings ride with care, while in July the shade is a rare luxury.
The old economy of this part of the world was wool and cheese, and you can still see it in the sheepfolds and the stone barns that dot the landscape. In Catí the town hall and the old merchant houses reflect that wealth, and the goat cheese made around here is a good reason to carry a small cool bag. Albocàsser, on the other side, has a pleasant square and a few modest places to eat, and the whole Maestrat was a stronghold of the Carlist armies in the nineteenth century.
Towns here are small, so fuel is something to plan rather than assume. Alcalà de Xivert, twenty-three kilometres away on the road to the coast, is the nearest real town, and it is wise to arrive with a decent tank. The paintings, when you reach them, are modest, as is typical in the region: a few faded figures in red under a ledge of rock. They reward patience and a slow look more than a quick stop, and they stay far better when visited quietly and with respect.