The frontón of a Spanish village is a plain wall with a flat court in front of it, where the pelota ball is hit against stone, and in tiny places like Oliete it is still the centre of summer evenings. The Tía Chula in the name was presumably someone local, and the frontón is the label's starting point, but the real attraction nearby is the land: a dry, hilly part of Teruel province where the Martín river cuts its way through limestone. Oliete is part of the Río Martín Cultural Park, a protected district that brings together rock shelters, old mining villages and gorges in a single trail of heritage sites.
The village is small, with fewer than five hundred people, and the Sierra de Arcos rises above it with a skirt of pine and scrub. Roads in this part of Teruel are quiet and empty, winding between hills with long views and a good surface, though patched in places. Spring and autumn are best, as summer heat bakes the stone, and winter nights can be bitter. A short ride brings you to Alacón, another village of a few hundred, with a church tower and a reputation for the best rock art in the district.
Fuel is a point to plan. Andorra, the Aragonese one, about twenty kilometres away, is the nearest real town with nearly eight thousand people and several petrol stations, and it is the place to eat as well. Andorra grew up around coal mining, and the old pits and the old power station tell the story of a region that once produced much of Aragón's energy.
The gorge of the Río Martín, called the Estrechos, is a short drive away and worth the detour, with a narrow channel, steep walls and a strong sense of enclosure. Look up and you may see vultures circling on the thermals. In the evening, as the light drops, the village square fills with the sound of children and the thud of a ball against the wall, the oldest form of entertainment in the place.