Cancelled Trek -- Whew!

We opened our curtains to more rain this morning and knew we wouldn't be doing our longest hike of the trip.  The storm passing over us is so big, it has a name -- Konrad.  The national park we were supposed to be trekking notified our guide of closure of trails. Even without official notice, the river we needed to walk across three times is in flood and impossible to cross and the plateau we would have crossed is a giant bog.  Oh well.  The upside is it's an eight mile hike we don't have to do while being soaking wet.

Our guides, Antonio and Jim, came up with a great plan B.  Instead of hiking overland, we'll go under!  There is a large cave system just uphill from our target town, Zuheros.

After being told by the cave tour agent to show up promptly at 1:00pm or face missing the tour, we stood in pouring rain, huddled at the cave entrance for twenty minutes (gazing longingly at dry shelter just a few feet away on the other side of a locked gate) until she showed up with the key. 

Waiting...

Once inside we learned that the only photos we could take were just a few steps down and no photography elsewhere is allowed.  Sigh.  Here you go..

Finally inside!

The excursion is climbing down over 350 steep, irregular stairs, being careful to watch each step while at the same time watching out for the next opportunity to bash your head against a rock, all while alternately crouching, leaning, and death gripping a steel cable or post to keep from tumbling down to join the remains of a 7,000 year old skeleton, which, by the way, was well below our path and if we survived the climb down and up, we wouldn't see it.  

Treacherousness aside, it was quite nice, as limestone caves go, but upon reaching the nadar of our journey, we had to climb up another 380 or so knee-straining steps to get out.  I must point out that the steepness of this cave is like no other I've been cajolled  into visiting.  We did get a fortuitous break after the section named something like "stairs of sighs", or as I would call it, "stairs of gasping last breath".  Finally a hint of skylight, the last monster steps, and back into a brief respite of not-so-heavy rain.  

Back in town we had a couple of hours to rest, visit the town castle, and/or the museum.  I opted to work on this post.

View of Zuheros from the Castle
courtesy of Mark

At 6:00pm we meet another Antonio, our host for dinner.  He grows olives and shared a wealth of knowledge with us.  His wife. Coco, prepared a meal of half a dozen appetizers, two mains, and a scrumptious dessert.  We eat too much!

Walking to Antonio's House

Konrad has definately interrupted our photo ops, and I'll spare you other shots of open umbrellas.  Instead, I offer you a backstory below on preparing for this trip.  Read or skip as you like.

I started packing for this trip five days before departure.  The prime objective was to travel carry-on only for a month of travel.  The second priority was to be prepared with clothing for all sorts of weather.  The third priority was to be at least fairly presentable style-wise for the two and a half weeks we'd be in fashionable cities (i.e., not be a doofus in dusty polypro the whole time -- show some respect!).  

The process for preparation for me went something like this: A) select from hangers, shelves, and drawers clothing that would definately be nice to have and start a pile; B) collect all the electronics (cameras, tablets, chargers, headphones, etc.) and amusements (drawing/painting/travel games) which also would be fun to have, and add that to the pile; C) top off the pile with all the the travel essentials you think you might need (toiletries, laundry soap, first aid kit, repair kit, meds, documentation, etc.).  Then burn it all.  No, just kidding.  What I then did was to place my carry-on suitcase next to the pile and ponder the laws of physics regarding volume and mass.  

Now began the serious process of elimination.  This happens in three ways. You can reject a whole item (e.g. good bye loafers and guess what, shampoo can be bought anywhere in Europe), you can focus on the activities you will for sure be doing (I will need hiking boots, no painting, notebook journaling, or "big" camera on this trip), or "minimize" (strip away bulky/heavy surplus).  

I find the first to be the easiest, especially since you can wash your "smalls" as you go, and the reason you bought all that quick-dry stuff was, well, just for that reason.  Eliminating an activity is not that hard, either.  I never paint or journal daily like I always think I might, and half my photos are now done with my phone anyway, so away goes a camera,  lenses, painting kit, etc.  Minimizing is the most time consuming, but an oddly fun activity for me.  For example, by using tiny ziplock bags (you get them at bead stores), I've replaced at least half a dozen medicine bottles. All my prescription and OTC meds are neatly (and leagally) labeled in little bags that all fit in a small travel soap case.  A half dozen laundry sheets in another ziplock will suffice for all hand washing of clothes. An intensely curated assortment of emergency items fit in a very lightweight rip-stop zipper bag (sewing kit, moleskin, wine bottle cap, tiny scissors, etc.). By the way, my favorite emergency item is about 3 feet of duct tape wrapped neatly around a pencil stub.  Not once, but twice (!!), I've used my duct tape to wrap a failed shoe sole.  I did five miles of hiking the Milford Trek in New Zealand on one wrap alone! 

I admit, I'm one of those people who like to futz and plan for all sorts of situations.  This biases toward over-packing, but I'm quite pleased that following the reject, focus, and minimize process, my total baggage weight (suitcase and tote purse) came in at just under 30 lbs. I am also pleased to say that eight days into travel it is all going well. Thank you for your attention if you got this far. I love you, good night.