Tuesday March 15th Alcala la Real to Frailes

Sort of rest day today, just a 9 kilometre walk to Frailes. Chance to stay in bed, have a leisurely breakfast and then take a look around Alcala la Real. Strangely the first time I've really felt tired since leaving the UK was this morning, maybe because I had time to notice, or maybe it was the bottle of wine demolished over dinner last night.

Christine is reading the Jan Morris book Spain, and although I'm sure this is really out of date now, it does talk about how poor this part of Spain is. It is difficult to understand how well people are doing just by walking through the countryside but looking from an English perspective there are some conflicting clues. Investment in public infrastructure looks high, public facilities look great compared to many places in the UK, but private sector facilities, shops, restuarants etc, feel old fashioned and in short supply.

Alcala la Real is a good illustration of this. As well as the brand new hospital and sports stadium there is a huge investment taking place In the restoration of the castle and abbey, impressively located on the hill which overlooks the rest of the town. Potentially a huge draw for tourists the facilities you would expect in a town with this at its heart don't seem to exist and we struggled to find somewhere to have lunch. I suspect that growing olives is not a lucrative activity, that this area is still a poor place, and there is not enough money going around locally to sustain the restaurants and other facilities you might expect.








The six tourists, and party of school children, going around the Castle and Abbey got a real treat. Although Napoleon had destroyed most of the building in 1812 the restoration is recreating all the layers of history left by the different occupants of the site from the before the Roman period. Really interesting morning.

After lunch we made the short and leisurely walk to Frailes where we are staying at the Meson Hostal la Posa. Frailes is really base camp for what is a very long walk tomorrow - 35 kilometres and 1300 metres of climb - one of the toughest walks yet.

Friday March 18th Cambil to Torres

Disaster! The Casa Rural owner takes us in his car to Cambil, we set of on the walk, and I say to Christine "where are the walking sticks?"
She replies "What walking sticks?".

I say " my walking sticks, the ones you have been using ever since you arrived in Spain".

After a few more moments trying to deny the obvious, Christine has to acknowledge that she has left my walking sticks, the lightest sticks money can buy, at the Casa Rural.
We wait long enough for the Casa Rural owner to get back to Carchelejo, ring him and think we have a deal for him to return with sticks. We wait for 90 minutes and discover he had misunderstood us or we had misunderstood him and he isn't coming back but will post the sticks on to a Hotel of our choosing, sounds complicated. We eventually set of on the walk at about 11 o'clock, I'm in a mega sulk, the only thing that could have been worse would have been me leaving the sticks not Christine.

All this was a bit of a shame really because the weather was perfect and the walk looked very promising. It involved 27 kilometres walking, a 1000 metres climb, went over a pass at 1650 metres (highest point to date), which went next to the Pico Magina which at 2164 metres is the highest peak in Jaen Province and took us through the Sierra Magina Natural Park.

An initial climb up through olive trees along a track (and after a short section along a road), turned into a walk through evergreen oak.

We passed what looked like several old ruined moorish hamlets and a tumble down castle - Castillo de Mata Bejid. This part of Spain was the borderland between Moors and Christians for a couple of centuries and the province of Jean, has more castles per hectare than anywhere else, or so it seems. We had a great lunch by the side of the track: cold jacket potatoes, the remains of the cheese and a fat sweet little cucumber.


We climbed and climbed up the endless track, cutting off a few corners up stoney grass slopes, until we finally got to the pass, Puerto de la Mata, at 1650m. The sun was beating down from a cloudless sky and we both caught the sun. The views of the Sierra Nevadas behind us to the left were unbelievable as the whole range was carpeted with fresh snow, witness to the very cold weather we've had for the last few days.


After a flapjack stop (all gone now) we started our descent on what looked like a never ending track, winding ever down but not seeming to get any closer to Torres.


At long last we hit town at 5.30. We were relieved to find the Hotel Jurinea and were welcomed by a kind woman who spoke no word of English but was happy to provide two cold beers, then passed on the message that our host from last night would drive over with the lost sticks tonight. Bingo.
Still no Wi-Fi so the blogs are stacking up. Can get emails but publishing blogs with pictures seems to require more than data roaming bandwidth. Have learnt that Tottenham have got Real Madrid in the next round of Champions League. This is good news as it means that I will definitely get to see the game. As I understand it, I will get to see Spurs in the next round as well, when chances are we will have to dispatch the other Spanish pretender,Barcelona.

Update, Friday 18th March

My Dad has sent me a text to say that he has had no wifi connection for three days now and is unable to update the blog. As soon as he arrives somewhere less remote, he'll update with the week he (and my Mum) have had.

Thanks,
Hannah

Monday 14th March Priego de Cordoba to Alcala la Real

Given the tough walks ahead it seemed to make sense for Christine to have a rest day today and for me to get to Alcala la Real as quickly as possible. Early breakfast and away. At the last minute she decided to get out of bed and join me so breakfast turned in a slightly more lavish affair than I had planned.


You get much nicer views of Priego de Cordoba leaving it than arriving, a really nice place.


To be honest this is a bit of an "A" to "B" walk - not much to see, other than more olive trees, and just a question of getting there. It seems like the Spanish have the same view and the way marking was poor to non existent and if it wasn't for a good track on my GPS I would have go totally lost.


One thing without Christine, I was able to get totally Ipoded up and today chose a country and western theme, Emmy Lou Harris, followed by Dixie Chicks with Gram Parsons thrown in as I descended into Alcala la Real.
A fast walk, a mix of small country roads, tracks through fields of olive trees, and a few rougher stretches, I was able to cover the 35 kilometres in about 8 hours (despite getting lost, as usual, coming out of town at the start).
Christine of course, didn't in the end have a rest day at all but set off and a couple of hours after me along the same route, without map or GPS. She somehow managed to get to Amedinilla and then got a bus.
Still more olive trees to come but the scenery looks like it's going to get dramatically better. Although pouring with rain as I entered Alcala la Real there were some great views across to the snow covered Sierras.
We're staying at the Toropalma Hotel and it's all mod cons plus menu gastronomic.

Sunday March 13th Rute to Priego de Cordoba

Christine here. John has just discovered that the blog he thought he posted from the bar in hostel Rafi, Priego, disappeared into the ether so I have offered to do it while he sulks.
We started off after breakfast, John with GPS in hand, and marched uphill past orange tree-lined streets and a wonderful anis factory (lush smells).

Anis factory in Rute

We then left town and took the wrong path, ending up on a road instead of a path high under the ridge.

Climbing up out of Rute

I decided we should stop for coffee in a roadside cafe at Palomares. Suitably caffeined up we took off uphill through the olives and sticky mud until we eventually hit the right path, which was delightful - through pine and holm oak, with buzzards circling above. We stopped briefly to demolish the remains of the Christmas cake. Then we got lost, and shortly after it started to rain and I got encircled by 3 dogs. Fortunately they had no cojones ( spelling confirmed with barman).

Broom everywhere

The rest of the walk was a plod in the rain on tarmac and my feet were sore when we arrived at Hostel Rafi in Priego de Cordoba, a lovely little provincial town with a Moorish centre and some fabulous Rococo churches, all of which were sadly locked.
We were the only ones at dinner: a hearty affair of grilled red peppers, oxtail stew then quince jelly with cream cheese, all washed down with Rioja. Felt quite good after that!
John by the way is looking very fit and well, he has a tan and has lost pounds round his middle. His walking clothes are filthy and he could be mistaken for a tramp were it not for the iPod and gps. There's a small crack opening up in his right Inov8 shoe which is giving him sleepless nights.

Saturday March 12th Villanueva de Algaidas to Rute

Bit of adventure today. To be honest it's a good job Christine arrives tonight and not last night, not sure if she would have appreciated today's walk as an introduction.

Started ominously, the rain was pouring down. The hotel didn't do breakfast, in fact it was a just leave your key in the door and go hotel. It was 8 o'clock and all I had with me was an apple, a big apple, but an apple non the less.

It did stop raining after about fifteen minutes but that was when the first part of the "adventure" started. The walk to the first destination, Cuevas Bajas, basically involved going along the side of a river which in normal circumstances is dry - at the moment it's in full flood. Worse still there was a series of lateral streams draining into the main river which were also in full flood. The sides of these streams were incredibly steep but had to be crossed, and eventually the inevitable happened, the soft soil on the bank gave way and I slid down to bottom collecting vast quantities of mud and soil as I went.













The last picture is the bank I slide down, trust me it's a least 15 feet deep.

Arrived at Cuevas Bajas, not a big place, and rebuilt my stocks of chocolate, bananas and some very expensive dried apricots. I was covered in mud so did well to get anything. Cuevas Bajas has some lovely houses suggesting a wealthy past.





Amazingly it was now sunny and I was making great progress to Rute, which for some reason didn't seem so far away. There is an option of not going to Cuevas de San Marcos and taking a more direct path, no choice as far as I was concerned.

Having crossed the bridge into the village of Vadofresno (leaving the province of Malaga and entering the province of Cordoba) the skies opened again, didn't rain for long but very fierce and water everywhere.

Just when I needed the signs they disappeared. There were three route options. The first one seemed to take you back towards Vadofresno. The second one took you down a gulley and then along the side of a cliff next to the river. I could see, however, that part of this route had been washed away. The third took you up on top of the cliff and through the olive trees. My GPS was telling to take the second route but given it's partial none existence I took the third. It was a nightmare, the mud was just incredible, not only was I sinking in it to my ankles, it was sticking to my feet. It then started to rain again. I was also having to negotiate the same sort of deep lateral streams that confronted me in the morning. I guess it took about an hour to cover about half a kilometre but when I found a tarmac road with a GR sign on it, it was a great relief.

The rest of the walk was uneventful although the countryside, still full of olive trees, is getting more attractive. The route took me high above the huge Embalse de Iznajar, a reservoir but pretty nonetheless.





Arrived at the Hotel el Mirador at about 5 o'clock, 30 kilometres and some obstacles in 9 hours, so in the end not so bad. Trying to clean up a bit but the room is now a bit muddy I'm afraid, hair dryer flat out in an effort to dry my shoes.

Friday March 11th, Villanueva de Tapia to Villanueva de Algaidas

Today's 20 kilometre walk was really slow, the time seemed to drag and it took longer than I expected - maybe I'm getting tired. Soaking in the bath I came with three other possible explanations.

The first was the olive trees. It is incredible, I thought there was a lot yesterday, but that was just a scattering compared to today. I am in the land where the olive tree is king (or should it be queen); where it's olive tree mono-culture; and where it's floor to ceiling, wall to wall, olive trees.

Just today, walking 20 kilometres, I think I have walked through 400 square kilometres of olive trees, millions of individual trees. I have no idea how they get the olives from the trees but surely it can't be a net on the ground and a good shake, would take forever.

The first picture has Villanueva de Tapia in a sea of olive trees, after that it's just sea.








Although there are a lot interesting unknowns, to me a least, about olive production processes it does not make for exciting walking, particularly when the clouds remain low and longer views are just not there. Both thinking about olive tree harvesting techniques and the monotony of the olive trees must have had an impact on my pace.

The second explanation is the mud - it is bad and incredibility sticky. Not really sure why, it's not that wet, you don't sink in it, it just sticks. It even sticks to my metal walking poles. After a few steps using the poles, each has an accumulation of mud at the end the size of a small hand grenade which, with a flick of the wrist, you can send flying into the middle distance. Both the mud and the flicking is slowing me down.



The third was my choice of music, D so it must be Dido. Bad move, olive trees, mud and Dido, it's amazing I got here at all.

Apart from being a bit monotonous it wasn't a bad walk, nice if muddy tracks, and the rain basically held of until the end. It took me 6 hours when the Cicerone Guide says 4 hours 30 minutes, so I have slowed down.

When I did get here it started to rain hard. I had decided to stay at the Hotel Algaidas which the Guide says is on the way out of town heading north. Having got the northern edge of town, not found it, I went into a bar full of noisy Spanish men playing dominos. Seeing me in my wet weather gear, and dripping, sent a hush through the room. Once they had recovered they insisted on getting the owner from upstairs to give me instructions because it seems domino players can't point. Well the owner could and he pointed back to other end of town. It's at the south not the north end.

Actually I have noticed a slight tendency for people to stare at me when I'm all togged out. Not sure if it's the gear or just the novelty of seeing someone walking this time of year and in this weather. Come to think of it I haven't seen another walker for a week. When Christine arrives tomorrow she is going to double the numbers.