Aunt Mona's Shelter is the translation of the name, and like most such names, it hides a story nobody can now quite tell. Tía Mona was presumably a woman of Alacón, or of a farm nearby, whose memory stuck to a hollow in the rock long after her family stopped using it. The covacho, a small cave or overhang, lies about three and a half kilometres from the village, in the dry hills of the Bajo Aragón. It carries painting in the Levantine tradition, protected by UNESCO among the rock art of the Mediterranean basin in Spain, and it belongs to the cultural park of the Río Martín, which links the district's sites together.
What strikes you here is the silence. Alacón has just over four hundred people, Oliete not many more, and between them the hills are empty but for olive terraces, scrub oak and the occasional stone hut where a farmer once sheltered from the sun. Teruel province is among the least populated parts of Europe, and out here you realise why the phrase empty Spain became a political slogan. There is something moving about a painted wall in such a place: people lived in these hills for thousands of years, and then, within a few generations, left.
Riding to the shelter takes you along long, gently rolling roads with excellent views and few cars. The tarmac is generally sound, though rough on the side lanes, and bends are mostly easy, opening occasionally into tighter turns where the road meets a ravine. In spring the fields are green and the almond blossom fades, in autumn the light is low and golden, and in summer midday heat is fierce. The cold Cierzo wind can blow hard through the valleys, so grip the bars on exposed stretches.
Fuel needs planning. Neither Alacón nor Oliete is a safe bet. Andorra, a town of nearly eight thousand people about twenty kilometres away, and Albalate del Arzobispo, with a couple of stations, are both good places to fill up. Ariño, a mining town, lies nearby, and you can eat there simply and well. Bring a bottle of water and wear sturdy shoes.