When warplanes gave way to olive trees

Every land has its own story. The history of Pla de Martís is built on striking contrasts.

A plateau of wind and stone

When you first arrive here, between Banyoles and Esponellà, you immediately feel the wind. It is a wide, open plateau, swept by the Tramontana wind, with the Pyrenees on the horizon. It is easy to see why, in 1938, this site was chosen as a military airfield.

1938: when war took over the land

It happened during the Spanish Civil War. The Republic needed airbases, and this natural plateau — flat, clear, and vast — was ideal. Within weeks, Pla de Martís became a military aerodrome. Warplanes took off and landed where our olive trees now sink their roots.

We think about this often when walking between the rows at dawn. The ground beneath our feet once carried fighter planes before it grew our trees. It leaves a lasting impression.

Abandonment and silence

After the war, activity gradually slowed down until the airfield was abandoned around 1960. Nature reclaimed the surface, but the soil kept deep scars. Decades of heavy machinery compacting the earth left it packed, nearly sterile, and incredibly difficult to farm.

It was a real challenge, but we knew the place was worth it.

Bringing life back to the soil with wood mulch

When we settled here, our priority wasn't to plant trees right away, but to bring the soil back to life. We spread nearly 150 tonnes of chipped young branches (known as Ramial Chipped Wood or RCW) across the three and a half hectares. This is not just a protective layer; it is food for the local soil fungi and microorganisms that build soil structure.

This fresh wood is highly nutritious. As it decomposes, fungal networks (mycelium) colonize the earth and rebuild natural humus. Year after year, the soil has softened and enriched, regaining the dark, airy texture of a forest floor.

A unique geology

Pla de Martís is a travertine plateau, a limestone rock formed by mineral sediments from the Alta Garrotxa waters. The underground reserves feeding Lake Banyoles flow far too deep — more than 60 meters underground — for our olive roots to reach them. However, it is the limestone rock itself, built up over millennia, that transfers its minerality to our trees. Without irrigation, our olive trees learn to root into this stone and draw on rainwater held by the clay and our chipped branch mulch.

Quiet restored

Today, the plateau has returned to its quiet roots. The only sounds left are the Tramontana wind rustling through the leaves and the gentle hum of insects. After the rain, the soil smells rich and clean.

For us, every harvest is a small victory over the concrete and compaction of the past. Producing olive oil here is first and foremost about supporting this return to a living, natural farming cycle.