The big tent and all the gear were packed away, breakfast was had and a rather sad moment had arrived. I was on my way back home. No longer the motivational excitement of driving south. It was north back home to the old routine.
I did take an hour to wander along the beach again, last night, and say my last 'farewells' to another Continent before turning in. A strange thought as I clambered into my trusty Volvo that had brought me all this way without a note of complaint. "Home, James!" ran wistfully though my head.
There was still SO much to see and SO little time to see it all. The Alhambra in Granada, the Sierra Nevada, the Serrania de Cuenca and the Alto Taco, the Pyrenees and, although not strictly part of my 'wild Spain' project, the little harbours of France never before visited.
I hit the coast road running north-east past Algeciras and San Rocque with Gib clearly defined on the horizon. Estepona, then Marbella, and the mad rush of cars came to a standstill. I wondered if I shouldn't use this moment to turn off and pay my respects to Marbella and judge for myself what it was like. And I did.
What have us Brits done here?! My toes were curling. I had to get out of here! And so I did!
Returning to the motorway that was slowly beginning to ease I continued north again. After Marbella I took the N340 coast road. Just before Fuengirola I noticed a clearing between the continuous development of apartments, villas, and hotels. There was a sandy beach! It had an easy car park in front of it. Screech! No signals! Bounce! Pound! Scrape! Brake! More screeching! Lots of dust....and all quiet again.
This was Cala de Mijas.
Barely a soul about! Had everyone joined that queue of traffic into Marbella?! Good luck to them and good luck me! Chair, towel, drink, swim and sunbathe! All within about an hour!
It occured to me that flying past these places at 80 mph and being very sanctimonious and judgemental about them is probably not very fair. Maybe my next venture could be driving and exploring the full length of the Spanish coast, visiting every bay and inlet and keeping an open mind. Could that be an interesting venture I pondered? Here at Cala de Mijas was perfect justification at least.
On my way again, past Torremolinos, Malaga...and relax!
Heading inland from here towards Torcal de Antequera and matters quickly changed for the better. The old Spain to which I had become acustomed had returned. Regrettably I missed the peak of this range with the spectacle of sculptured rocks for which it is famed, through some very poor signage and, if I'm being honest, poor map reading. I followed this track as far as I could reasonably go, past 'La Posada del Torcal' hotel and turned back.
I arrived in Granada and headed for La Zubia, on the outskirts, were I stayed at C. Reina Isabela. Here, yet again, I met Spanish warmth and help at its very best. Every possible direction to get me to La Alhambra in the morning, including booking my ticket online, and providing a list of bus options and changes.
Then another swim and an hour catching the last of the cooling sun in the secluded, quite private pool.
226 motorway miles.
PS. After arriving home I discovered that within just 10 miles of Torcal de Antequera is a gorge, Garganta de Chorro, round which hangs a somewhat precarious path. I found a small mentioned of it in the Lonely Planets Guide. Here is a link to a video of someone negotiating this (what seems to me suicidal) path known as 'El Camino del Rey'.
No comments:
Post a Comment