Welcome to
"El Colmenar"

This place holds a rich history. It was built by our ancestors several centuries ago, on large red sandstone arches—a typical substrate of the area and of the entire mountain range that borders the town of Chóvar and its neighboring villages, known as the “Sierra Espadán.” This mountain range is unique in the entire Mediterranean basin due to its lush cork and holm oak forests growing on that soil.

My family, the founders of this house, have always worked the land for their livelihood, and in particular, they were devoted to beekeeping—which is where the name “El Colmenar” comes from, as well as the entire theming of the house, making staying here a truly unique experience.

Beekeeping ran in our blood—or well, it did… until I was born, the creator of this place, alongside my wife and my son.

At the age of two, my father took me for the first time to one of his apiaries in Cervera del Maestre, a town in the north of Castellón province. It was there that I got stung by my first bee. My father was proud of me. I endured the sting like a champion, without any unnecessary drama—just a few tears that lasted only as long as it took for the red mark to disappear, essentially nothing. My family could be happy—I would be the next generation of beekeepers, and the tradition would continue!

At the age of four, I got stung by another bee, for the second time in my short life. But this time, everything was very different. I don’t remember it, of course, but my parents told me that I ended up in the hospital with an anaphylactic shock and another injection—this time of Urbason, a corticosteroid effective against severe allergic reactions. The hopes placed in me as a beekeeper seemed to vanish.

Even so, I’m not someone who gives up at the first setback. Although fate had this planned for me, something inside told me I wouldn’t give up so easily, that bees would continue to play a fundamental role in my life, and that I had to do something about it…