EXCERPT FROM SARA’S JOURNALJanuary 31, 1999
Huerta Santa Maria
Near Galaroza
Gruta de las Maravillas, Aracena
This is our third attempt to visit The Grotto of the Marvels
in Aracena. Our former attempts have left us waiting for twenty-five or more visitors in
order to warrant the hour-long tour. Today is Sunday, and the sun is shining. It’s 18
degrees and most of Seville has driven to the Sierra for lunch and sightseeing. There are
plenty of Gruta-goers.
The Gruta de las Maravillas is the most extensive cavern on the
Iberian Peninsula. The interior covers a space of 1200 metres, and includes six lakes, and
twelve "rooms", some as large as cathedrals, with names such as "The
Emerald", "The Skins", and "The Glassware of God". The caves drip
and grow with stalactites and stalagmites, calcareous formations and erosions.
The temperature of the grotto is the same at any time of year. It sits
at a humid 17 degrees. My face is damp, and the soft, porous walls are wet and dribbling.
The caves are illuminated with spotlights. Pools are crystal clear. It’s almost as if
there is no water at all--the bottom of the lakes are as clear to see as the walls and
ceilings. There are so many varied formations—crab-like points, soft, bulbous forms,
dripping Francis Bacon faces, millions of infant stalactites, growing like baby ferns from
the roof.
The rooms go on and on, up and down, with stairs carved in the floor
and constructed modern walkways. Sometimes we have to crouch when we walk through a
passageway. The formations range in colour from pink to salmon to deep umber. Some look
like shelf fungi. Some are large and mimic a lioness creeping from her den. Water drips
from every ceiling’s endless cavern.
After an hour deep within the mountain at the edge of the city, we
emerge into the daylight. Aracena remains as we left it—there is public sculpture at
every turn. The cafes are with families, sipping Sherry and digesting chorizo and Jamon.
The shops sell azujelos and pottery, and glass and the perfect keepsake for a
little boy or girl—the canario is a palm-sized decanter-whistle. When you fill
it with water and blow, it sings like a canary.
