Imagine a long narrow ridge, undulating place on it little white houses, clustered among other more ancient; imagine that both sides of the mountain have been cut away, dropping downward sheer and straight; and at the foot of this wall a slow, silent river, its mursky waters licking the yellowish stone, then going on its destructive course throughout the fields…and when you have imagined all this you will have but a pale image of Arcos.

Though Spanish novelist Azorín was waxing poetic here, he’s nor far off.

The most popular of Spain´s pueblos blancos, Arcos is a historic and romantic gem. Emanating like gossamer strings from the Plaza del Cabildo, the convoluted medieval streets lead visitors past geranium-lined balconies and tranquil farmers markets lying unperturbed in the sun.