Peníscola is a rock that sticks out into the Mediterranean about twenty kilometres from here, topped by a Templar castle, and it is the one place on this stretch of coast that every visitor knows. The castle later gave refuge to Pedro de Luna, Pope Benedict XIII, who refused to give up the papacy after the Western Schism and lived out his years here, earning the nickname Papa Luna. His coat of arms and the story of his stubbornness are all over the town, which is now a busy summer resort. The shelter at La Saltadora, Abric VI, is a world away from that. It lies in the dry hills above Albocàsser, about six and a half kilometres from the village, and carries painting in the Levantine tradition, protected by UNESCO as part of the rock art of the Mediterranean basin in Spain. The ride links it with another site, the Racó de Nando.
That contrast makes a good day. In the morning you can ride the quiet lanes through the ravines, walk to a shelter, and eat bread and cheese on a rock, and by evening you can be on the seafront at Peníscola, eating a plate of rice with fish and watching the castle floodlit. It is only forty kilometres or so, but it feels like moving between centuries.
The hills have a harsh, dry beauty. Limestone terraces of almond and olive, pale cliffs, thyme and rosemary, and the occasional wild fig growing from a crack. Late spring is lovely, and so is autumn, while midsummer heat is intense and the rock radiates it into the evening.
The lanes out of Albocàsser are narrow, twisty and patchy, with tight bends and gravel, and traffic is hardly a factor. A slow pace pays off here. At weekends, you may meet cyclists, and in spring and autumn, hunters' vehicles. Albocàsser itself has fewer than fourteen hundred people and no promise of fuel. Alcalà de Xivert, about sixteen kilometres away, is the town to rely on, with over six thousand people and several stations. Carry water, and wear shoes you can walk in over rough ground.