The Caves

The other day I went to a lunch that was (at least for me) a truly bizarre experience. I was told we were going for a rabbit lunch in a small town near El Alquian. The town is called Las Cuevas which means The Caves. I thought why would a town be called The Caves (and seriously, rabbit lunch?)? I soon found out that’s because it has many houses are built into caves that people still live in.

After school, I hopped into the car with Stefan and Jose Luis and we got off the highway and took a windy uphill road to a little village that was like something out of a movie. The village had a few windy, unnamed roads that passed by houses and cafes scattered in between a few cactus dotted hills. It looked to me as if there were no building regulations, a thought that was confirmed by Jose Luis. Because the village was so old, there was no point in changing anything now and back when it was settled, people built as they pleased. So I saw houses on top of the hills, dwellings in the hills (for the cave people), and houses along the winding/hilly roads that connected this jumbled development. Enough of that for now, on to the main event, the innocent little rabbit.

I’ve had Spanish food before, such as paella, tortilla, and tons of little tapas. But all of them were ingredients I’ve eaten before, just prepared differently. This was real encounter with traditional Spanish cooking. Before this, I’ve only ever seen rabbits on cool mornings working outside, not on my dinner plate. We ordered rounds of beer and then in what felt like no time the owners of the restaurant (which was not in a cave) brought these gargantuan bowls filled almost to the top. Think of your biggest salad bowl, then think of it filled almost to the brim with garlic, potatoes, rabbit, and olive oil. Then picture 11 people having to take on this monumental task.

Traditional rabbit is called conejo al ajo, which means garlic rabbit. The rabbit is cut and roasted in olive oil with whole garlic cloves, sliced potatoes, and if it’s possible, more olive oil (I miss butter). The result is very flavourful meat with a hint of garlic. The rabbit was a bit gamey, but not too bitter, and a lot more tender than I had expected. All in all, it was easily the best and biggest lunch I’ve had since I got here.

Now back to the village known as The Caves. It appeared no one lived there, but for those who did, I couldn’t imagine it was an easy life. I figure it’s a mixture of constant walking/driving narrow, hilly, and windy roads, being far away from day-to-day necessities and conveniences, and surely having to travel far distances to work or school.

I still can’t get over the cave dwellings. How big could it possibly be? I didn’t go to a front door to knock and investigate, but I should have. Are the walls made of stone? Does everyone’s voice echo all the time? How does one acquire a cave house? All questions that rolled through my mind.

All in all, the only way to describe Las Cuevas is picturesque. It’s steep desert hills, covered in cactuses and brush, and windy roads that go according to the land, not according to a developer. It’s houses of all shapes, sizes, and colours that are in the hills or on them. It’s a glimpse of old Spain before the modern times. It’s nothing I have ever seen before.