Explorer: In Spain, Hiking Along the Volcanoes of Catalonia

When I hesitated, she added, “Just keeping walking along this volcano.”
A record scratch across the heavens: we had been walking along a volcano? I knew from pre-trip research that this area is dotted with volcanoes — extinct ones — but it wasn’t until this moment that I realized we’d been walking along the base of one.

We were starting a three-day hike on the Vías Verdes, or Greenways (viasverdes.com), through the hinterlands of Catalonia, in northeast Spain. These hiking and biking trails have recently been etched throughout Spain by the federal government in an effort to bring eco-tourism (and tourists’ euros) to less trammeled parts of the country.

I was particularly intrigued by our stretch, which follows an old railway line that once opened up a particularly isolated area of the country. The trail, officially called Carrilet I, starts in Olot, a volcano-studded town of about 33,000, to Girona, a painfully attractive medieval town about 33 miles away.

This is a Catalonia outside Barcelona, one tourists rarely see — a rural countryside, created in part by those volcanoes, with dramatic cliffs, verdant fields and untrammeled medieval villages.

After walking over the babbling Fluvià River, we found a neurotically straight path stretching under 100-foot-long tunnels and arched stone bridges. We had discovered our trail.

In fact, the Greenways infrastructure practically handholds hikers along the way, with regular markers, informational signs and stones marking each kilometer. Old railway stations in each village have been restored and transformed into information offices or snack bars for hikers and bikers. And with the handy guide I bought at the tourist office in Olot (8 euros, about $11 at $1.41 to the euro), describing the highlights along the way and listing restaurants and hotels in each town, it now seemed impossible to get lost.

We made our way up a slight ascent before the trail leveled off into a cornfield. Our view was dominated by the towering, rocky peak El Puigsacalm to our right; behind us were a large volcanic crater and, farther, the snow-capped Pyrenees. Perhaps more notably, we weren’t surrounded by tourists. We did see some friendly locals, including a group of old men, canes jabbing at the gravel path; as we passed, we exchanged “Bon dia,” Catalan for “Buenos días.” Even bikers, zooming by, managed to squeak out a “Hola.”

When the first train chugged along this route in November 1911, it connected the interior of Catalonia to the Costa Brava town of San Feliu de Guixols in an unprecedented way, allowing villagers a more comfortable and quicker passage to Girona (and then on to the sea). It was also financially beneficial, opening up the economy of the area by giving villagers and farmers a new market for their goods. But thanks to the Milagro Español, or Spanish Miracle, the strong growth in the economy between 1959 and 1973, many people in the area swapped train travel for cars. And so, in 1969, the carrilet made its last trip.

Eventually, the region bought the tracks and railway line from the state, and in the 1990s, a hiking and biking trail along the same lines as the railway, opened. “The trains were important for the economy of the region,” Silvia Marty, the communications director for the Vías Verdes of Girona, told me when we visited her office. “But now, in a way, the Vías Verdes are doing the same thing: bringing people to relatively unknown places who are then supporting the local economy.”

We had the option of starting in Girona and walking toward Olot. We did it the other way around, mostly because starting in Olot means the journey is mostly downhill, but for one challenging hill, nearly 2,000 above sea level, outside the town of Sant Esteve d’en Bas.

Most of the first day’s hike would be through the Garrotxa (pronounced Garr-OHT-sha), or, as it’s officially called, Parque Natural de la Zona Volcánica de la Garrotxa, a 50-square-mile area studded with 40 extinct volcanoes. All that fertile volcanic soil has sprouted a sub-cuisine of sorts, known here as cuina volcanica, or volcanic cuisine, based on the produce grown in the area.

Before we left Olot, I had met with David Coloma, who manages the Volcanic Cuisine Group, an organization of local restaurants, at Hostal dels Ossos. We sampled some local favorites, like fesols de Santa Pau, beans that were unusually soft thanks to the soil, which, Mr. Coloma told me, regulates the temperature and creates a natural greenhouse. “Potatoes, for example, are smaller and more absorbent here because of the soil,” he said. “They’re different from the same type of ingredients you’ll get 30 miles from here.”

Sunday, September 11, 2011 by For Her · 0