One thing I loved most about living in Spain was the diversity of terrain we could easily get to within driving distance. From 2019 to 2023, my husband and I lived in the port city of Tarragona, an hour southwest of Barcelona. (I share photography and “favorites” from our experience on my site, The Unfolding Travels.) Last summer, when the beaches began to fill with tourists, we plotted a weekend escape an hour inland to Priorat, a mountainous wine region known for its bold reds. Though we had already visited on multiple occasions for hikes and winery tours, this time we wanted to fully immerse ourselves.
The road into Priorat is a doozy for passengers prone to an uneasy stomach. In fact, its difficult location may be part of the reason why the region remained relatively obscure in the wine world until a few decades ago. Armed with ginger ale and crackers, I was at ease enough to enjoy the ride through the majestic stone and vine-trimmed mountainside.
The mere survival of the grapes here is a wonder given the inhospitable environment of soil topped by slate, sweltering summer heat and scarce rainfall. But Priorat winemaking has a deep history dating to the 1100s, when Carthusian monks settled in the region. (I would recommend visiting Cellers of Scala Dei, as it is “the birthplace of Priorat.”)
Even if you aren’t a wine enthusiast, this pocket of Spain is a refuge. Villages blend seamlessly into the soaring landscape and seem to have retained the purity and pace of a simple life. Our first stop, Torroja del Priorat, is the perfect example.
Like most towns in mid-afternoon during a hot Spanish summer, the streets were empty and the shades were drawn. Tucked into the cobblestone streets and earth-toned houses was an 18th-century abbey turned boutique hotel. Though you couldn’t tell from the facade, Ora Hotel’s interior includes a sleek lounge area and an airy breakfast nook and patio.
For dinner we drove to the town of Poboleda to Brots Restaurant, helmed by Belgian-born chef Pieter Truyts. Since it was off-season for the region, we enjoyed a quiet night in the small dining room with flavorful food and a creative presentation (e.g., the appetizers are served in a mold of Truyet’s hand!).
On Saturday morning, we took a small hike around Torroja before driving to our next stop: La Vilella Baixa. Our friends had recommended this town, calling it “the Manhattan of Priorat,” since the buildings appear like skyscrapers set against the natural incline of the mountain. They swore that they had found the best wine of their life, labelless in a bargain barrel there years ago.
We wandered through the streets with no destination in mind. Eventually, weighed down by the oppressive heat, we sought refuge in a nearby restaurant, Ca L’Artur. It felt a bit like being at your Spanish uncle’s house with decor of yesteryear and a classic menu to match. Table wine followed by a quintessential Spanish snack spread of meat, cheese, bread and olives are served by the cheery, effusive Artur himself. Next, we enjoyed snails and asparagus followed by rabbit and butifarra, a sausage typical of Catalonia.
After the meal, we drove to our final destination, Terra Dominicata, a hotel that had long been on my list—a luxe, secluded former monastery with its own winery in the middle of Montsant National Park. Upon check-in I picked up a novel from a nearby stack. “Take it!” The receptionist urged. She explained that they purposefully leave books around the property as an encouragement for guests to put down the screens and unplug. “If you don’t finish by the time your stay is over, you can take it with you,” she said.
That afternoon we reclined in a shady spot by the pool. Though enticed by my new novel, the call of a siesta was stronger. As the sun began to set, we retreated to the wide terrace for a glass of the hotel’s wine produced from the very vineyard we overlooked.
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