Mulhacen

Long before embarking on this wonderful trip, I had planned a solo adventure into Sierra National Park to climb the highest peak, Mulhacen. On a clear day, one can sit on the peak of Mulhacen and look out to Africa. I had originally planned to do this trip on April 29^th -30^th but the weather interfered with these plans so I rescheduled for May 10^th-11^th. I did not want to tie up the car so I planned to use the bus system .

 Unfortunately, the bus schedule I was using off the internet did not match reality and I missed my bus to Granada so I took another bus into Motril and did my best to waste four hours before my next bus. The bus from Motril dropped me in Orgiva where I took another bus to Capileira. From Capileira, I picked up the trail head, which would take me to the Poqueira Refugio, an awesome bunk room with food service (and beer!) that sat at the base of the peaks just below the snow line.

The trail wound its way along a beautiful river until it split off for a pretty steep walk up to the Refugio.  I wish I had taken more time to enjoy this trail but I had ambitions of stopping at the Refugio for 15 minutes and summiting before night fall.  The staff at the Refugio told me that making the summit that night would cause me to finish in darkness, so I chose to have beer instead with a Dutch couple and a fun group of British women, who go on trekking trips together, and enjoy the fabulous views from the terrace of the Refugio. We had a laughter and wine-filled dinner at the Refugio and I went to bed thinking I would abandon my ambitions of getting up at 5 am to summit Mulhacen.

Insomnia had other plans. I awoke at 3:20 and by 4:15 was convinced that I was not going back to sleep so I put on my boots and the crampons I had rented and headed out into the star-filled night. I was properly bundled with my head lamp on and was quite exhilarated to be making the climb. A spectacular shooting star verified that I had made the right call! I was making great time and I thought I was being extra careful by staying to the left of the snow as much as possible since there was a river that ran beneath the snow and because of the darkness it was hard to pinpoint where this river was.

I thought I might summit before sunrise when I realized that I was climbing the wrong mountain. At first I thought I would simply walk the ridge line over to Mulhacen but this would have had me climbing two other mountains before reaching Mulhacen so instead I dropped down about 800 feet and then climbed up another 1200 feet. By this time, I was making slow progress as I was literally walking at a 35 degree angle in icy snow. I would see a spot and make a goal of reaching that spot in seven minutes and then it would take fifteen minutes. I stopped to take a break during which I took my gloves off and took some pictures and ate way too many potato chips. I started walking up again towards the summit when the cold in my fingers became unbearable (I had only brought lightweight running gloves). I began to descend and then foolish pride would turn me back to go up the hill. Finally I decided to begin my descent before summiting. I was probably about 300 (in altitude – a eighth of a mile in distance) feet below the summit. I will be back!!

I made it down to Refugio and had a good laugh at myself with the woman that operated the place and then promptly got lost on my trip back civilization. I probably ended up walking an unnecessary five miles as I followed old logging roads back into Capileira. I had a large beer, opened up my silver dollar sized blisters and took the bus back to Orgiva, where I was delighted to be picked up by the family. I had hiked 28 miles in 24 hours and was exhausted.

Day Drives

Two separate times we have made days out of driving up little windy roads that come from the coastal town into the hills and stopping in the little towns that sit in these hills.

The first trip had us driving east towards Almeria and then branching to the north. We first came to Albunol, which seemed to be a very dilapidated town, so we kept on driving until we made it to Sorvilan, which was much more charming but had yet to develop the bars and restaurant required to entice a tourist visit. I suppose this is “chicken or the egg” type scenario where the potential proprietors of such places need to see a steady flow before opening up for business and the tourists need something to make them stop before a place gathers steam amongst the tourist. Sorvilan was very pretty but it did not compare to the higher Pueblos Blancos that had highly developed tourist trades. It seemed to be hovering between the state of neglect seen in Albunol and at the possibility of being a “hidden gem” tourist town.

Stomachs were growling so we stopped at the first place we came to, a “road house” type establishment at the intersection of two roads. When we arrived the place was almost empty making us wonder about our choice but it filled up over the next hour and the one server was overwhelmed so we paid at the bar and headed back on our way. I mention this because the payment of servers is on a flat wage basis (no tips) so operators are much more inclined to under-staff than overstaff (often the case in the US since servers make a tiny wage and are usually required to clean when not working). Many times the bars we have visited have been operated by only one person.

Our drive took us over a ridge and into a beautiful part of the Alpujarras, away from the plastic covered greenhouses that overwhelm the coastal hills and lowlands. We stopped at a slightly angled flat topped hill that looked out over a river valley to Orgiva and the more elevated Peublos Blancos beyond. Anika and I climbed this small peak and enjoyed the wonderful views while Angie helped Vasco look for sticks. We drove home and were pretty much exhausted.

Our next trip into the hills was about two weeks later with my folks. We began in Almunecar (coastal city) and drove north into the hills through Jete and Otivar and then turned off to go to Lentegi. Lentegi is amazing as it looks out over a vast valley that is surrounded by mountains. We were starving and found a restaurant with panoramic views over the valley. The setting was further enhanced by a paraglider soaring out over the valley. We got back on the main road after lunch and wound our way through the mountains all the way to Granada. On this route we encountered several micro-climates and went from mountain desert to an elevated grass land where there were horse ranches. We also went in and out of the rain. It was an amazing drive!

Almeria and Cabo de Gato: April 26-27

Angie and I were curious about Almeria , which is a little over an hour to the east of us, and the beautiful Cabo de Gato National Park, which is another 20 minutes east of Almeria. So, having the luxury of Sofia to watch the kids, we took off for an overnight adventure. We arrived at our hotel, which was nothing special but did have an excellent location, and took off to see the Alcazaba, which next to the Alhambra, is the most majestic of the remaining Muslim fortresses (although the fortress in Malaga is also worth a visit). Like all of the fortresses, the Alcazaba sits on top of a hill that looks out over the city and on good days, out to the Rif Mountains of Africa.

After descending down from the Alcazaba, we took a random path that took us through the old town (more narrow winding streets with little shops and bars – they simple do not get old!) and ended up at a cool part of the city where the old town converges with the new town, the perfect spot to have two high octane coffees and people watch! We then strolled through the city some more and stopped for drinks at a small tapas bar at the base of an ugly apartment tower. The free tapas ware excellent! We meandered back to the hotel and returned emails and then headed out again.

We stopped first at the hotel bar where they were having complimentary Champagne (the Spanish counterpart is called cava). We then headed back into the old town for more tapas and found Tuesday night to be pretty quiet but we happened upon a nice place with two Cuban bartenders, Adonis and Enrique, with whom we chatted for the rest of the night. One spoke English pretty well and so we bounced back and forth between his decent English and our broken Spanish. With patience, one can still cover a great variety of subjects such as Cuban US relations, the Cuban influx in Almeria, their desire (and inability) to visit friends and family in the states, the cost of living in Almeria, how the Spanish unemployment rate is wreaking havoc for foreigners working on employment contracts in Spain (the contracts are not being renewed)….. We were able to choose our tapas and decided to spend the evening here rather than float between other places.

We awoke the following morning to the sun rising over the port of Almeria and we headed out of town to the east for Cabo de Gato National Park. This is an incredible peninsula with a coast that rivals that of Central California (but without the surf). It is popular for walking (hiking) trips and kayaking trips and I hope someday to traverse this beautiful area both ways. Angie and I took an hour hike into the park and then I climbed down to spectacular beach where my lack of a bathing suit did not seem to be an issue until some happy kayakers happened upon the same spot. The water was pretty cold, so I am pretty sure that I will not end up on the internet.

We got back in the car and drove around the area that is inaccessible to cars to the isolated beach town of San Jose where we had lunch and then crepes. San Jose had a very Bohemian scene that blended somewhat awkwardly with the rampant condo development that had occurred over the last 20 years. We drove home and then headed out for Real Madrid versus Barcelona (see previous post).

Ronda April 18-19

Upon dropping our friends, the Shahs, at the Train Station in Malaga, we headed west (kids in tow) along the interstate and then picked up a small road that took us northwest to the famous town of Ronda http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronda. The weather was a little dreary as Ronda’s beautiful setting in the mountains north of Costa del Sol brings with it much more rain than other parts of Andalucia. Like Granada, Ronda’s perched location made it one of the last cities taken back (1485) from the Muslims during the Reconquest.

Ronda’s most notable feature is the magnificent gorge that divides the old town (before being taken back) from the new town and the beautiful bridges that span the gorge. The gorge is 360 feet deep and 200 feet wide and as we walked the town and viewed the gorge from many angles, the gorge remained spectacular to us. It spills out on both sides to verdant farm and pasture land. Both Hemingway and Oscar Wilde spent summers in Ronda.

Ronda is the birthplace of modern bullfighting but we did not dwell too much on this since Angie and I have both been to bullfights and we are not big fans. A big score to us was the hotel where we stayed, Hotel Enfrente Arte, which features 14 very eclectic rooms an included “serve yourself” bar and the best breakfast we have had the entire trip. The common areas of the hotel include little spaces, both inside and out ranging from a small dining area inside a miniature bamboo forest to a roof top bar with a surf board table. We would recommend this hotel to anyone and we would recommend two nights to properly see the sights and capture the evenings, during which the gorge is lit up. We would have stayed longer but the hotel (which we were lucky to stay at due to a last minute cancellation) was booked the following night (April 19^th), so we took in a few historic sights, including a very well-preserved Hammam from the 11^th century and a particularly beautiful cathedral, and headed out of town to Old Ronda.

Old Ronda or Acinipo is the home to a Roman Settlement that dates back 2000 years. The archeologists are still unearthing the settlement but the theatre and stage are in amazing condition. The settlement is perched on another hill about 30 minutes outside of Ronda and does not get many visitors.

Upon driving back down the hill to Puerta Banus and Marbella, we were underwhelmed by the costal development which has made this part of Spain look like Miami / Fort Lauderdale. Marbella has a beautiful old town that can be done in about 3 hours.

Casa Mandarina

It seems that although we have been here seven weeks already, I have done a poor job of letting you know about where we are staying. This is important because, while we have been on the move quite a bit, the time we spend at this incredible home, called 'Casa Manadarina' is worth sharing.

The home sits in a hillside housing development that began in the 1970s. The hills are relatively steep and to get to our rental we must wind our way up the hill for close to two miles (after entering). Apparently the hills are steep enough that a few homes have lost their footing and slid down a bit but the landlord assured me that the home we are staying in “has more concrete under it than above”.

The design of the home is classic Spanish Mediterranean on the exterior with a distinctly Moroccan interior. The furnishings include many pieces from Morocco and India and the attention to detail is phenomenal. I am still noticing for the first time little architectural elements and furnishings that seem so natural and fittingly eclectic (whatever that means).

The floor plan does a wonderful job of maximizing the view corridors and giving the house privacy. The house opens into a large great room with glass doors opening to the balcony, which overlooks the pool and the Mediterranean Sea. A not-so-small nook off this room has become a great area for the kids to play. Off another side of the room is the dining room, which looks out to the hills. In between the dining room table and small sitting area that opens into the kitchen is a spiral staircase that goes up to a tower room that has a projector that throws a picture onto a white wall across the room. This room has low furniture and a really cool Arabic lamp that hangs over the staircase.

Outside is a large pool that has an infinity effect out to the Mediterranean. Vasco always throws a fit when his Sponge Bob rubber ball looks like it is going to float off the edge into the great unknown. At the end of the pool, off to the left is another covered outside dining area that looks out over the town and the castle.

Four large bedrooms are down below and when the shutters on the windows are shut, it is hard not to sleep well into the morning. The master bedroom looks out over the infinity pool to the sea. The kitchen is really well equipped and while we have not done as much cooking of local cuisine as we had hoped, we have done a lot of cooking.

Real Madrid vs Barcelone: April 26th

Tonight, upon returning from Almeria and Cabo de Gato National  Park (posting to come), we made an evening out of going to town to watch Real Madrid play Barcelona. This rivalry is similar to Yankees-Red Sox, Packers-Bears, and Celtics-Lakers. Due to a somewhat unique scheduling gimmick, the teams are playing each other four times between April 16^th and May2nd. I thought having Vasco watch with a bunch of cap-wearing locals who are fanatical about the game might give the ideal foundation for being a great futboler.

 The plan was to go to the Chinese store (littered throughout Spain and perhaps more of Europe are stores operated by Chinese that sell cheap stuff made in China. The Chinese government either pays the rent on these stores or guarantees it. These stores are perfect for buying just about anything from beach toys to a socket set – our favorite one even has a nice assortment of bras) to pickup some cheap futbol tshirts that aligned Anika with Barcelona and Vasco with Madrid. I even harbored optimistic visions of two older Spanish men laying their canes against the bar and hoisting Vasco to their shoulders after a Real Madrid score.

In the end the Chinese store apparently could not find margin in selling soccer shirts and we found a relatively quiet bar where we could watch the game while sitting comfortably outside. I cheered for Barcelona principally because Sofia cheered for Madrid. Vasco spent most of his time playing with the umbrella that covered our table. When he was not doing this, he was keen on doing “knuckles” (fist bumping) with me and yelling “chocolate” upon impact. I so badly want to find relevance between this activity and the futbol game but as of this posting, it is eluding me.

For those who care, Messi (Barcelona) knocked in two goals about 15 minutes after we had left to put the kids to bed. The skills and strategy that take place during these games is amazing but to me it is bogged down by the posturing, gesticulating, acting and bickering that the players feel compelled to perform in the name of entertainment. That said, I will be back for more on May 2^nd.

A night of Flamenco: April 10th

The more immediate roots of Flamenco music (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flamenco) come from the 18^th century and the Spanish gypsies but when you hear the music, you know in your heart (and I do not use this word lightly) that this amazing art form took light long before this.

On the last night of the Wright’s visit, the four adults (I use this word lightly when applying to myself) went to a restaurant called Postigo at the base of the Arab Castle (Castillo) that sits atop Salobrena for Flamenco and sunset. The restaurant offers fabulous views over the city and out to the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas which were quilted with the pink of the setting sun. After combining this setting with Rioja (I know…common thread), we would have tolerated a tribute band that specialized in Paris Hilton’s classic hits. Instead, the night only got better.

The Flamenco group, which featured a guitarist, a singer, a dancer, and a guy that that did some rhythmic clapping, a little singing, a little guitar playing, and a lot of facial gestures. We called him the never-ending “groupie” but my guess is that he was much more than that. To use a sports analogy, he was your consummate utility man ala Steve Tasker of the Buffalo Bills – the type of guy you just can’t keep off the field / stage.

They started with some soft guitar music. As the music picked up, the singer joined in and belted out sounds that had to originate from deep within. Abandoning my silliness for a moment, I wondered to myself and the table, how someone is able to control sounds that come from so far below the larynx. Did he get this skill from a parent, a grandparent an uncle….Did he have to train or was this gift simply bestowed to him? Much the way that words are secondary in opera (I have been to the opera twice in my life), it did not matter what he was saying.

Needless to say, when the dancer joined in, I became even more mesmerized. She changed her costume for each of three sets and the group finished with the pace and passion of their magic at a crescendo. I was so overwhelmed that had Angie not stopped me, I would have tried to book them 25 years in advance for Anika’s wedding.

It was a small enough venue that we were able to tell them in person how much we appreciated their talents and the wife of the guitarist teaches Flamenco so Angie and Anika will be taking private lessons!!