We head off early to get our hire car and drive to the top of the Sierra Nevada. The views are breathtaking as is the drive. A short walk to the top of a rocky knoll, the low cloud hugs distant mountains, the highest peaks dusted with snow and the ski resort is making preparation for the imminent season.
Backtracking we head for Alpujarra y Valle de Lecrin on the southern aspect of the Sierra Nevada. This region of the Iberian peninsula is historically the last bastion of Islamic culture, or more correctly, the region most influenced by Moorish occupation. Each pueblo / hamlet / village is comprised of box like buildings hugging shear cliffs up to 2000-2500m above sea level. The towns are stark white against the landscape, packed tightly together and distinguishable by the shapes of their chiminera which is supposed to be a throw back to Islam. Dee and I agree that not much of the Moorish culture has survived even if the architecture suggests Islamic influences. The main product of the region is “jambon” (pig) in various shapes and sizes. It doesn’t appear very different from every other region we have passed through in that respect. Boccadillos will forever be a cringe word for us.
Orgiva has a very strange feel about it. The local hippie culture laced with British and Germanic dialects. Middle aged pommies (and older) appear to be living here. It is almost surreal and after a quick beer and provisions we head out further into the more isolated Sierra Nevada. The road is serpentine and slow going, more white, stacked box towns, tour buses everywhere. Mostly poms I think. Not so isolated but at least they drive through.
We finally decide on Trevelez, which on first impression appears quiet yet by 7pm the local fair (as in travelling circus) is in full swing just outside our hotel window. Dee remarks, with her usual optimism, “well it will probably only go until 11 pm or so…”,…..sure!!! On the positive side the countryside is beautiful, the air cool and clean, our hotel room very good value for 45E (now $100!!!) and there is double glazing. We keep telling each other it is only money, you only live once (unless you believe in reincarnation of course and then you have to do this shit for eternity).
A walk around to the high point of town, probably greater than 60 degrees grade in some places yet still accessible by car, and we acquire the obligatory 6pm thirst, lucky there always seems to be bottle at hand.
Dee seems to have forgotten the rigors of the camino, her foot pain now resolved, a local walk catches her attention, the Sendero del Aguadero (12km, 6-7 hours return, 630 m elevation). She again optimistically remarks, that should be nothing for us!
Sorry, comments are closed for this item.