Soria

Soria feels like a place that’s quietly confident in its history and landscape. The city itself is compact, with Romanesque churches tucked between stone facades and narrow streets that still carry the rhythm of older times. It’s not flashy, but it’s solid—built to last, and it shows.

Just outside the city, the landscape opens up, and that’s where you’ll find Laguna Negra, a glacial lake tucked into the Sierra de Urbión. The name means “Black Lagoon,” and it earns it—not because the water is actually black, but because it’s deep, still, and surrounded by steep granite cliffs and dense pine forest. It’s the kind of place that feels like it’s been left alone on purpose.

There’s a short hike to reach it, and the air gets cooler as you climb. Once you’re there, it’s quiet—no boats, no cafés, just the sound of wind in the trees and the occasional bird. The lake has inspired legends and poems, especially from Antonio Machado, who saw something timeless in its stillness. And honestly, it’s hard not to.