Up High at the Chaparral

It’s easy to forget living in Valencia that there are some quite spectacular mountains a short drive away.

One of the most spectacular, and one that draws families and adventure sports fans every weekend, is Garbí, near the cherry growing village of Serra.

With its fragmented red rock and fantastic views, Garbí is an icon in the countryside around the capital.

The weekend we were there, there were tightrope walkers practising how to fall off a rope, and doing it very well. After all the exercise of watching , we drove the 2 or 3 kilometres back to Chaparral, where, amid the aromas of pine and paella, cooked on orange tree wood as it should be, we dug into some very serious meat, because mountains mean meat, the lighter rice dishes, which they also offer, seeming more appropriate for the coast.

There were various grilled meats available, such as chicken, rabbit, lamb chops or varied sausages, and as there were four of us, we ordered them all and shared in true medieval fashion.

Chaparral is a traditional stopping place for cyclists, and they are usually to be found there in their ridiculously tight trousers stuffing themselves with rolls, olives and nuts.

There’s plenty of terrace outside to eat, and plenty of parking space if you don’t mind sharing with gnarled tree roots.

After about midday however, the tables are set with outrageous lime green tablecloths for the serious eaters, contrasting bewilderingly with the magenta curtains.

After some traditional starters such as salad, patatas bravas and ajoarriero, the massive plates of meat are brought out steaming and begging to be washed down with the house red, which is a more than acceptable full-bodied beverage.

The meat can be accompanied by thinly sliced potatoes or a variety of vegetables as you prefer. A fried egg will often find its way in there for no explicable reason.