We were also warned to "layer-up" as it might be cold (as cold as inside the Alhambra?) and rainy (quel supris!). I harkened back two weeks ago, when I was sitting on my bedroom floor holding gloves in one hand and a swimsuit in the other. Every hotel booked has a pool, and we'll be in southern Spain, so guess what didn't make the cut?
Suitable clothed (sans gloves) and with bags loaded, I rode this leg of the trip with Jim. I think Gayle and I may have gotten a word or two in, but Mark and Jim did most of the conversational heavy lifting covering a broad spectrum from getting children through school and college, how hard it is to get a driving license in Spain, the Tour de France, bull fighting, and the economic impact and advantages of Air BnBs. The experience in the back seat was like listening to random snippets of entertaing podcasts while passing through even lovelier country. Olive orchards were giving way to tilled agriculture interspersed with swathes of yellow wild mustard (at least that's what I'm calling it).
Blue skies were raising hope for today's hike, but as we got closer to our destination it became apparent we were climbing into the clouds. Oh well, like a good army, we were fed and prepared.
I may have this wrong, but I think the park we're hiking in is named is as I've titled this post. Normally I'm not too concerned about being correct in my blog because so few people read it, and I write so much they probably give up and quit reading after error overload. But now I think the url has leaked out to some of my fellow travellers who care enough about accuracy. To them I say, "Try writing your own blog on a phone keyboard with flat thumbs as big as American teaspoons!" Back to our hike... the first activity after parking is to visit the toilets. Two big coaches of tourists (we are travellers, they are tourists) meant the queue to the "ladies" was long, which prompted the common conversation of why, still, can't architects (mostly male) understand the metrics for women's needs are different than for men. Enough said.
The limestone geology and errosional topography is fantastic. We knew, by having a local guide, we were getting an opportunity to explore the area off the limited groomed trails available to the public. We felt special. We met our trail guide, Jose, at the visitor center where he scrutinized our footwear and gave us all a thumbs up. That should have been the first warning sign. Next, we moved to a patch of grass near the parking lot. He gave us a preliminary introduction to what our hike would be like, and, since it was rainy, pointed out the rocks would be slippery and not put our hands in our pockets because a broken wrist was better than a broken head (warning sign number two). He then just turned while saying "Let's go!". No trail at all. After a few tens of meters of avoiding stepping on cannonball sized rocks, we stopped for a brief discourse on an interesting plant. I heard something about witches, swollen lips, warts, and figs. With the help of the app Plantnet and the photo i took, I hope to resolve these clues into what the heck I'm looking at.
With umbrellas and hiking poles at ready, we continued silly-walking and scrambling our way up hill, being reminded to NOT step on the rocks, but on the green plants instead -- the antithesis of every eco-hiker's instinct. The rock formations grew more impressive as we went. As if slipping and falling on rocks wasn't bad enough, we learned about the thousands of holes and fissures one could fall into and die. Some of these gates to hell had names and into them (named or un named) fell an alarming number of unlucky visitors every year.
I was so focused on my footwork, not stepping on rocks, and heaving myself up, over, around, or down table height ledges, I didn't have time to even notice if it was cold. My hands were warm from alternating death clenches on umbrella or pole. But being amongst these rocks was worth it.
We did have a few minutes of heavy rain, the gods just making sure the rocks would stay slippery for the way down, but my hands were warm, my feet were dry, all was good. That is until it wasn't. I was following an agile hiker as we had to high-step onto the next ledge, I watched in that weird sensation of slow motion as one foot of hers started sliding, then her other foot and body followed and she drifted over the lip of the ledge down into what could have been a bush covered fissure. Her body folded gracefully like an origami swan and she stopped, without apparent head impact, nestled between giant boulders. Helping hands got her upright and back on trail-not-trail. Whew!
Our descent required even more concentration, but we all made it back to the vehicles, mostly unscathed. I think we did a whole mile and a half but it felt like five!
Food is a critical marker in our schedule and more than a little discussion was had about whether or not we'd be given lunch today as it was missing in our itinerary. What whiners we are! We groan about eating too much then get anxious at the thought of missing a meal. Relief! Apparently our little army did well and lunch was just 20 minutes down the road (again, a very filling one). Another hour and we've reached the town of Ronda for the next two nights.
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| Our spectacular room in Ronda |
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| View from our window |
Did I hear dinner was up next? Good night!
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