The first impression of Petracos is of tilted rock. Limestone strata lie across the plateau like a book dropped on its side, with caves and ledges under the edges, and the shelters tucked beneath them hold paintings that have lasted thousands of years because the overhang keeps the rain off. The plateau is a short distance above Castell de Castells, which gives you a village for coffee and a starting point for exploring the valley.
If you arrive in the late afternoon, the light on the cliffs turns orange and the shadows deepen, and the whole scene feels as though the clock has been turned back. You may hear sheep bells somewhere below, or a hoopoe in the pines. The approach roads are narrow, with a few tight hairpins and one or two blind bends, and the surface is mostly good, so a relaxed ride suits the place. In July and August go early or late, because midday is hard on both rider and bike.
There is a gentle comedy in the way these shelters are numbered. Archaeologists, faced with a cliff that has eight or ten painted overhangs, simply count them in the order they were found, so Abric VII is no more distinctive than its neighbours until you look closely and find a few faded figures, a little line of dots, a bow. It is a reminder that rock art is not a collection of masterpieces but the leftover marks of ordinary people over a very long time.
Pego, eleven kilometres away, has the fuel and the shops, and the wetland of the Marjal de Pego-Oliva lies below it, a natural park of rice fields and reeds where herons and purple gallinules breed. If you have time, try a local arròs al forn, a baked rice dish that is a regional favourite. Back on the plateau, remember to drink water and to respect any fencing. Even the most careful touch can damage fragile pigments.