In the Maestrat, shelters are named after whoever owned the nearest farm, and Mas d'en Salvador is an example: a mas is a farmstead, and Salvador was presumably the man who worked this patch of land at some point. Abric V is one in a numbered series of painted rock shelters in the ravine near the farm, about five kilometres from Albocàsser, carrying the small red figures of the Levantine tradition that UNESCO lists among the rock art of the Mediterranean basin in Spain. Such shelters have no grand frontage, just a lip of rock, a dry floor and a good view down the ravine.
The farmsteads tell their own story. For centuries, this high country lived on sheep, almonds, olives and grain, and shepherds moved their flocks along ancient drove roads between summer pastures in the hills and winter grazing near the coast. Many masos stand empty now, their stone walls crumbling and their threshing floors overgrown with thyme, but the dry-stone terraces climbing every slope are still there, a remarkable piece of human labour. Walking among them, it is easy to appreciate how little water this land offers and how hard people worked to keep what they had.
Getting here is a quiet pleasure. The lanes around Albocàsser are narrow and twisty, with surfaces that range from decent to broken, and they carry hardly any traffic. Corners are often blind. You are more likely to meet a flock of sheep than a car, and a dog will sometimes run out of a farm gate. Take it slowly, and keep your speed low on gravel. Early morning is the best time, with cool air and low light on the limestone.
Albocàsser has fewer than fourteen hundred people and is the only place close by, so top up the tank before you arrive. Les Coves de Vinromà and Catí are bigger options a short ride away, while Alcalà de Xivert, on the coastal plain, is the safest place for a full tank and a proper meal. Carry water and wear solid shoes for the last stretch.