Guest blogger Matthew Stewart, from the excellent Extremadura Guide takes us to the other side of Spain!
Take a Spanish region that’s the size of Belgium yet still undiscovered by the Brits and even overlooked by most Spaniards. Fill it with fairytale towns and villages, three UNESCO World Heritage Sites and a National Park. Top it off with the best ham in the world, no arguments allowed from Italy!
This isn’t a figment of some estate agent’s wild imagination or a tour operator’s over-the-top brochure; it’s just Extremadura, where I’ve made my home these last fifteen years.
North of Andalusia, south of Castile and east of Portugal, influences of all these ways of life are present in Extremadura, although it has an identity and personality all of its own. There’s a common misconception that its name should be translated as “extremely hard”, perhaps as a nod towards its sometimes harsh climate and wild landscape, but Extremadura actually means “beyond the Duero”, in a reference to the river.
One of the poorest regions in Spain, even other Spaniards often lapse into stereotype when talking about Extremadura. There were obviously always exceptions, but 20th century Spanish literature and cinema too often tended to depict Extremadura as a desolate and inhospitable backwater or featured exiles from Extremadura lost in the big city after migrating there in search of work. Buñuel, meanwhile, made a famous documentary in 1932 titled Tierra Sin Pan (The Land Without Bread) showing the terrible poverty endured by the inhabitants of an area called Las Hurdes in northern Extremadura.
Many Spanish city dwellers are only now starting to shake off this anachronistic image of Las Hurdes and by extension all the region. In fact, Extremadura’s benefitted hugely from E.U. funds over the last few years – spanking new motorways have sprung up all over the place, while the A.V.E. is also on its way (if Madrid are to be believed!)
Apart from possessing a birder’s paradise in Monfragüe National Park, Extremadura has a number of important towns and cities such as Mérida, which boasts the most outstanding set of Roman ruins to be found on the Iberian peninsula. Cáceres, meanwhile, offers a gorgeous old town, perhaps little known due to not having a stand-out monument that people can tick off their lists (like Granada’s Alhambra and Córdoba’s Mezquita) as they “do” Spain.
Extremadura’s quite simply a foodie’s paradise – the Iberico breed of pig, native to the peninsula, lives free on its plains (called dehesa). What makes it special is the delicious marbled fat running through the resulting ham, flavoured by the acorns that are scoffed before slaughter. Cheeses are also outstanding, especially Torta de la Serena, a soft sheep’s cheese served on toast like an exotic Welsh Rarebit.
Why, you might ask, aren’t these products more famous? Well, Extremadura’s traditionally been a region of farmers who just wanted to be paid a good price for their goods. Local pork was thus bought and turned into ham by companies in Guijuelo, olives were sold in bulk and canned elsewhere, wine headed for northern Spain in tankers, while olive oil ended up in Italy. Nowadays, a new generation of local businessmen is emerging, trying to make a name in its own right for this great food and drink.
Numerous generations used to be forced to leave Extremadura to make a living elsewhere – from the conquistadores to workers who abandoned their villages in the 1950s/60s, making for the Basque Country, Cataluña and even Central Europe. Meanwhile, very few foreigners have headed in the opposite direction – I can literally go for years at a time without encountering another Brit in the small towns where I live and work. It’s great for your Spanish!
Extremadura’s so vast that we’ll never be overrun by ex-pats. Here, still, is the chance to meet locals who aren’t sick of foreigners, who are intensely proud and often surprised that a forastero might choose to come to a part of the world that’s been overlooked and forgotten for so long. Here, still, is an “Unspoilt Spain” that exists way beyond the connotations of the cliché. I hope you’ll get the chance to discover us!
Many thank to Matthew Stewart, do please check out his excellent Extremadura Guide website!
3rd floor. Because of the strange convention of naming the first floor Pra L this puts you onto the fourth floor along with Alice, the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit. The main thing is that you must manually close all three doors of the second list or no one in the building can use it. All this is difficult enough when sober, heaven only knows how we’ll manage after a few drinks on New Year’s Eve…
Little asprin, no problem. Ibuprofen for arthritic knee, no problem. Felodipine? Nowhere to be seen. Of course it would have helped had I spelt it correctly on the paper I handed to her with my list of requirements. They even went on ‘Google for Chemists in Spanish’ and could find no trace. I returned to the flat convinced I would sort it out but, of course, I couldn’t spell it so couldn’t find it either. Still, I could always go back to cilazapril. It gives me a cough but it would do for a fortnight. 
You’ve packed your bags, said your good-byes and bought your one-way ticket to Spain. But before you board that flight to 
