It was a mere coincidence that brought me to Palma del Condado, situated halfway between Sevilla and Huelva. My destination was Niebla but as no more beds were available for the weary traveller at the time of my visit I was advised to try my luck at Palma del Condado, just 10 kilometers down the road.

Looking for cheap lodgings in the Spanish countryside one should never be put off by a hideous exterior and knowing this I entered resolutely into an overly lit bar situated at an unattractive square near the center of the town. It turned out that the plain sign with the word HOSTAL attached to the façade of the building referred to the rooms above the bar and obligingly a key was pressed into my palm with the request to go through yonder door and proceed upstairs to inspect room 17. For the modest amount of 34 euro I thus found an austere but spotlessly clean room with even a bathroom en suite so once again downstairs I asked at the bar where I could best park my vehicle.
“Turn left outside and around the first corner you go through a gate and at the end to the left of the stables you can park your car” the barkeeper said without taking his eyes from the toasted garlic bread he was preparing for a customer.
It was all as he had told me and I parked my car next to a decayed carriage that obviously belonged to the stables next door. The rural aroma of rotten hay and horse manure fitted somehow perfectly into this ramshackle chaotic conglomeration.

A little while later I wandered about aimlessly through the badly lit center of the town and found neither bar nor restaurant, just three churches and two semi deserted squares. It was eight in the evening by now and thus very early in the evening by Spanish standards. A friendly Spanish woman advised me to dine at a certain Filo, “Es un monstruo de la cocina” she told me and as this means that said Filo is a fantastic chef I went straight to his restaurant.

Filo turned out to be a cheery chap in a neon lit diner with lots of formica and stainless steel, he advised me to come back in an hour when, he told me with a big grin on his face, he would prepare for me a pez espada a la plancha fuera de serie (an excellent grilled swordfish.
So once again I ambled through the center that still offered a semi desolate aspect and finally, a few minutes before nine, I sat myself down at Filo’s. It turned out that the swordfish was floating in olive oil with little green dots and, not being too big a fan of olive oil I removed most of it by soaking it up with the chunks of bread that always form an indispensable part of a Spanish meal. Thus asked the green dots turned out to be bits of parsley that, together with the olive oil made up this region’s favourite dressing. The gazpacho I had for starters also showed Filo’s excessive love for olive oil but I ate it all without complaining. However, the glass of hot milk with sugar I tend to have with my meals was excellent though it earned me a wondering glance from Filo as was to be expected.

The next day I enjoyed a nutritious Spanish breakfast in the bar of the hostall, bread with a layer of squeezed tomatoes and a slight touch of olive oil; after that it was time to have a look at Palma del Condado by daylight.

For a start it made a much more favourable impression on me then the night before and I discovered an oldfashioned haberdashery shop that was located in an erstwhile monastery. The shop and extensive living quarters at the rear was proudly shown to me by the owner whose family, as she told me, had been living at this place for three generations. Shop and living quarters would however soon be reformed in order to bring it up to more modern and comfortable standards. The shop was stacked to the ceiling with garments, ribbons, buttons and bibs and bobs I don’t even know the name of, some neatly stacked in floor to ceiling drawers, and even the right colour of darning thread to mend your socks could be obtained. This establishment certainly fullfilled a need as during my visit customers came and went in a steady flow.

Right in the middle of the town the San Juan Bautista church stands in all its baroque glory. It reminded me of an eleboratedly decorated weding cake and it was further enhanced by the low light of the autumn sun. On the spires, decorated with navy blue tiles, some storks haughtily contemplated the life below them on the by now busy square.

A more venerable impression made the nearby Iglesia del Valle, dating from the second half of the 15th century and also worth a visit is the monastry of the Hermanas de la Cruz.
Religion is an inseparable part of life in Spanish society and twice two begging nuns crossed my path. I saw how, with sullen faces, they rung a doorbell of a rather large house and a little while later I saw them again, with the same expression, crossing a pleasant sundrenched square where chirping birds in the orange trees took care of the musical accompaniment. When I told them that the good Lord had not made such a lovely day in order to walk through it with a grim face they hastened their pace with an even angrier expression on their faces.
The three pensionados I saw sitting on a bench near the San Juan Bautista church had a much more positive attitude to life and one of them told me his secret of reaching an advanced age in a healthy frame of mind with the following words:
‘Si quieres vivir sano, hazte viejo temprano’ which means as much as if you want to live healthy start as early as possible with a quiet style of living.

Due to the proximity of the Rio Tinto mines one cn safely assume that people were living in this area already during the Bronze Age. The town Palma was probably built by the Romans and a stone tablet with the inscription PALMA OLEA NOTUM (Palma famous for her oil) dates from that time. Already in 1875 wine was exported from here to France but the infamous wine pest in 1908 devastated most of the vineyards. Nowadays a few bodegas are left producing mainly liqueur, brandy and vinegar. The majority of the population finds employment in agriculture and tourism is also becoming an important part of the industrial activity.