Salt, wine, and wealth in Spain’s Basque region

by Sean McLachlan on


In the modern world we don’t give much thought to salt. We casually pick some up in the supermarket or tear open a packet at a café, but in the past salt was a vital and sought-after commodity. Everyone needed it for preserving food and as a source for iodine. Nobody could live without it and those who controlled its supply became rich and powerful.

The Basque region of Spain was a major supplier of salt thanks to a strange legacy dating back 220 million years. The remains of an oceanic deposit of salt lie close to the surface at Salinas de Añana. People have been digging up salt here for at least 5,000 years. Our hiking group is visiting this valley. We see pipes channeling saline water onto platforms, where the water evaporates and leaves behind a salty crust. The water has 250 grams of salt per liter. By way of comparison, the Mediterranean has only 40 grams per liter. The Dead Sea has 350 grams per liter and is so salty you can float on it.

The salt is ultrapure and highly prized by top restaurants. Despite this, international competition from more affordable brands has led to a decline in business. Fifty years ago there were some 5,500 salt platforms. Now there are only 45. Yet the workers at Salinas de Añana have carved out a niche for themselves and are hoping their traditional extraction process will get the valley named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

%Gallery-124223%Leaving the salt valley behind, we follow the old Salt Trail through rolling fields punctuated by forest. We circle Arreo Lake and come to Fontecha, a town made rich by salt. Back in the Middle Ages, salt meant wealth, and wealth meant power. Two huge towers glower over the little town, erected by rival families from the money and influence the salt trade gave them. Sadly, both are being worked on and are closed to visitors. Instead we stop for lunch at a terraza, the outdoor seating of a local café. Sitting at terrazas is a favorite pastime in all regions of Spain. Sip some wine, talk to friends, and watch the world go by. It’s a nice way to spend an afternoon or relax after a hike.

More wine comes that night when we visit Bodega El Fabulista in the hilltop town of La Guardia. This is in La Rioja region, where Spain’s best wine comes from. An employee takes us down into the cool cellars, where vaulted stone ceilings shelter orderly rows of oaken barrels. The air is a constant 11-13°C (52-55°F) and 85% humidity. The barrels are made of various types of oak to lend the wine distinct flavors. The amount of time the wine is left in the barrels is critical for its rating: crianza wine spends a minimum of 12 months in oaken barrels, reserva needs 15 months, and gran reserva spends 5 five years in the winery and at least two years in the barrel.

This is all very interesting, but I’m getting anxious to sample some good old Spanish vino. I have some more waiting to do because as we stand glass in hand, the wine temptingly close, we’re treated to another lecture. This time it’s about tasting wine. When a waiter opens a bottle for you and pours out a little for you to check, there’s no need to actually drink some. Smell it to make sure it hasn’t turned to vinegar, and look at it to make sure no bits of cork are floating in it.

Next we examine the wine’s “crown”. If you tip the wine a little while holding it over a white surface, you can examine its edge. The color tells you how old it is. Young wine has a purple edge. As the wine ages it gradually darkens, until with gran reserva it looks brown. Finally we’re allowed to taste it, and everyone holds forth on their observations about its accents and flavors and subtlety. I suppose I could too, but I know very little about wine (I’ve always tasted it to check it, and until now I had no clear idea what crianza meant) so I’ll spare you the pontification and just say that to my uneducated palate, Rioja wine, especially that from El Fabulista, is delicious.

Wandering through the narrow, winding streets of this medieval town we see that wine, like salt, meant wealth and power in the old days. Many houses are adorned with ornate family crests, and the town gives off an aura of money and social standing. Rioja wine is drunk all across Spain. While the salt from Salinas de Añana has become a specialist product for connoisseurs, Rioja has a major market share in a country that demands quality wine.

Don’t miss the rest of my series: Beyond Bilbao: Hiking through the Basque region.

This trip was sponsored by Country Walkers. The views expressed in this series, however, are entirely my own.

Arethusa Falls: A spectacular New Hampshire sight

by Tom Johansmeyer on


For some, the word “hiking” leads to unpleasant thoughts. There are visions of heavy backpacks, ropes and buckets of sweat pouring off your body. For those not in the best of shape, it seems like an unfortunate way to spend a vacation. After all, the purpose of getting away from the daily grind is to recharge, not to wear yourself out.

This sort of thinking can be unfortunate. Not all hiking has to be of the sort chronicled by the so-called “adventure travel” folks. In fact, you can have a great time out in the woods without running yourself ragged. Hiking can be a blast, especially when you choose trails that are easy to navigate, not too hard on your body and still deliver an incredible payoff.

This is exactly what I found at Arethusa Falls.

Arethusa Falls is tucked away in New Hampshire‘s White Mountain region, not too far from Mt Washington, where you’ll find some of the worst weather in the country. Unlike Washington, and nearby intimidating peaks Adams and Jefferson, Arethusa Falls sits at the end of a fairly short trail (not even two miles long). The path can be a bit hilly and rocky, but it’s far from the sort of environment in which equipment is needed – a good pair of hiking boots is fine. You certainly won’t need to toss a heavy burden on your back, as you’ll be out for only a few hours.

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The Falls aren’t that high up; you’ll only climb to an elevation of 1,100 feet. Though hilly at spots, the trail is certainly manageable. Because of the elevation, it isn’t much colder at your destination than it is at the starting point, unlike many of the trails in the area that take you a few thousand feet above sea level.

The jaunt to Arethusa Falls is nothing short of pleasant – especially if you’re sharing the experience with someone interesting or important to you. Though the trail isn’t wide enough to walk side by side, it’s great to feel the presence of someone with you – in front or behind – as you walk toward what you will later see for yourself to be a stunning natural sight.

The sound of water moving is loud enough, so it’s easy to be deceived as you walk toward the falls. After you’ve been walking for a bit, you might want the sound of the nearby stream to be Arethusa Falls. Don’t succumb! It’s easy to say this now, but you’ll know when you’re near the waterfall … it just gets so much louder.

As the sound of rushing water intensifies, you’ll be overcome with the sensation that you’re close. Keep going. If the sound keeps getting louder, you’ll know that you’re close.

When you get to Arethusa Falls, the trail opens into a view of the river, with the falls off to the right. You can walk down to the rocks in the river, which afford better views (definitely bring a camera). Near the banks, you’ll have no trouble scoping out a place that’s sturdy and easy to reach, though the more adventurous will have options farther toward the middle (getting all the way across, realistically, is impossible).

Pack a lunch to enjoy while you sit on the rocks and enjoy the falls; take your time enjoying this incredible experience. But, eat some light fare, because you will have to walk back to the car!

Reality television show Expedition Impossible debuts in June

by Kraig Becker on

A new reality television show entitled Expedition Impossible is set to make its debut on ABC this June, pitting 13 teams of three against one another in what looks to be an adrenaline fueled competition through remote regions of Morocco. The show, which seems to combine elements of The Amazing Race and the sport of adventure racing, comes to us courtesy of Mark Burnett, the mastermind behind Survivor.

The official website for the show offers little in the way of information about the competition, although I would expect that it will be updated as we get closer to when it first airs. But in the trailer video, which you’ll find below, we see teams not only trekking through the desert, rock climbing, and kayaking rushing rivers, but also solving puzzles and working through other challenges. The video actually conveys an intensity to the race that isn’t present in other realty shows of this type.

For Burnett, this looks to be somewhat of a return to his roots. Back in the 90’s he produced an adventure race known as the Eco-Challenge which had coed teams of four racing against one another on foot, mountain bike, and kayak through some of the most remote places on Earth. Expedition Impossible seems to have a similar theme, although it is much more approachable for the masses than Eco-Challenge ever was.

So? What do you think? Is this going to be worthwhile adventure television for the summer months? I guess we’ll find out on June 23 when the first episode airs.


Hiking and politics in the Basque region’s Grand Canyon

by Sean McLachlan on


“The Basques have the oldest history in Europe,” says Dr. Alberto Santana, historian and co-founder of Aunia, a Basque cultural magazine. “We have been here since the Stone Age and have the most distinct language in the world. There are some 6,000 languages in 12 language families. Basque is in a family by itself.”

The Basque language, Euskara, is the heart of Basque identity, he tells our hiking group. In Euskadi a Basque is a Euskaldunak (“one who owns the Basque language”) and the Basque region is Euskal Herria (“the land of those who speak Basque”). Yet only 28% of Basques can actually speak it. At a corner shop in Orduña, where we’re staying as we tour Spain’s Basque region, I only find books in Spanish, including a cookbook on Basque cuisine.

The Basques straddle the border of Spain and France, an independent people who have never had independence. Santana’s statement that they can trace their heritage back to the Stone Age isn’t nationalistic chest thumping; it’s the prevailing opinion among archaeologists and linguists. The theory is borne out by the language itself. For example, the word for “knife” is aizto, which translates literally as “stone that cuts”.

%Gallery-124109%While they may still talk about stone tools, the source of Basque wealth was iron. Basque foundries fueled the Spanish Empire. Basques were Spain’s great shipbuilders too.

He goes on to list several important Basques. Two names stick out. Juan Sebastián Elcano captained Magellan’s ship after the famous explorer was killed in the Philippines. It was Elcano, not Magellan, who circumnavigated the globe. The South American leader Simón de Bolívar came from a Basque family. Dr. Santana then talks about the sufferings of the Basque people during the Spanish Civil War, especially the infamous bombing of Guernica, leveled by the Luftwaffe. The slaughter was immortalized in Picasso’s famous painting.

“What about ETA?” a man in the audience asks after Dr. Santana finishes his lecture.

ETA is a terrorist group fighting for Basque independence. Formed in 1959, they’ve killed more than 800 people. People like Diego Armando Estacio and Carlos Alonso Palate, two Ecuadorians killed when ETA set off a bomb at Madrid’s Barajas airport in 2006. Talking about Basque history without mentioning ETA is like talking about Irish history without mentioning the IRA.

Santana pauses for a moment, obviously choosing his words carefully before saying, “ETA is a radical and violent organization formed by students during the Franco dictatorship. At that time giving a lecture like this one was illegal. I would be arrested. Now ETA is nearing its end. It’s leaders are looking for a way to end it. You will probably see its end this year.”

Indeed, I’m hiking through the Basque region at a critical period in its history. Local elections are being held across Spain. In the Basque region Bildu, a separatist party, is the newcomer and potential game-changer. It was legalized only last month. Many Spaniards believe it has ties to ETA and much of the public is strongly against it being allowed to run. The courts decided to legalize it, perhaps in the hope that with political representation, Basque nationalists will turn their backs on ETA.

Today we’re hiking far away from politics, or so I think. We ascend a steep slope, passing flocks of long-haired sheep and stout horses grazing on rich grass. While Basque ports made their mark on world history with whaling and shipbuilding, most Basques made their living as farmers or herdsmen. It’s these towns and villages that preserved the Basque language and traditions, and it’s in the rural areas where you’ll hear the most Basque spoken today.

Besides a couple of hikers sharing a bottle of wine, we see nobody. After a further climb we’re treated to a stunning view of the Nervion Canyon, a sheer drop of 2,000 feet. The canyon widens out to the north, opening onto rolling cultivated fields and little villages of red-roofed houses.

We head south, where the walls of the canyon close in on each other, finally meeting. The sheer gray rock looks impossible to climb, but in the shade of one overhang a couple of hundred feet down we see a herd of goats sitting away from the sun’s glare. In the air we see Griffon Vultures wheel and dive.

These are the largest vultures in Europe and they favor these high pastures, hoping to feast on a dead sheep or goat. When we stop for a picnic, one member of our group stretches out for a rest on the grass some distance from us. The vultures circle lower and lower above him. They must realize he’s alive because they never land to pick at his flesh. He continues to enjoy his vacation and I miss out on a chance for Gadling’s Photo of the Year.

As we continue, we come to a pair of man-made walls about two miles long. They form a giant triangle, mirroring the natural triangle of the canyon, but instead of ending at a cliff, they end at a deep pit.

“This is a lobera,” our guide Josu explains. “When wolves were common here the people from all the villages would beat drums and pots to scare the wolves into this space. They’d fall into the pit and could then be killed.”

Wolves still roam the mountains not far from here. Like in the U.S., there’s an ongoing controversy between farmers, environmentalists, the government, and pretty much everyone else about how to handle the predators. Should they be protected? Farmers worry about their flocks. Should they be hunted? Hikers worry about people prowling the countryside with guns. Should they be kept away entirely? Environmentalists say this species needs to spread to survive.

Like with human politics, the politics of nature has no easy answers.

Don’t miss the rest of my series: Beyond Bilbao: Hiking through the Basque region.

This trip was sponsored by Country Walkers. The views expressed in this series, however, are entirely my own.

Happy 100th Birthday, Parks Canada

by Eva Holland on

Parks Canada, the department in charge of Canada’s 42 preserved national parks, turned 100 years old this week. CBC’s Jon Hembrey explains the department’s origins:

Parks Canada can trace its lineage back to 1885, when the country’s first national park – at a tiny 26 square kilometres – was created in Banff, Alta.

The primary aim was to create a tourist destination close to the Canadian Pacific Railway and exploit the economic potential of the area’s hot springs, said Claire Campbell, editor of A Century of Parks Canada, a collection of essays looking at the history of Parks Canada.

In 1911, the federal government created the Dominion Parks Branch, as it was called then, to look after the country’s handful of national parks. It was the first of its kind in the world.

Today, Parks Canada administers parks spread out from the Atlantic to the Pacific to the Arctic oceans, covering grasslands and mountain regions and marine environments. They range from remote wilderness preserves to high-volume tourist draws.

Traveling to Canada? Be sure to check out a park near you. Here are some photos from my nearest national park neighbor: Yukon’s Kluane National Park.

[Hat tip to @thebanffcentre]

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