Sun 16 Sep
Sierra de la Contraviesa
Very little sunshine, and no roses at all. La Contraviesa is the range between the Sierra Nevada and the coast, with rolling hillsides cut through by steep gullies, very sparsely populated, and with a succession of microclimates every couple of hundred metres or so. Today most of them seemed to involve mist.
I had decided to try to find Fregenite, purportedly the least populated village in Spain with 1 inhabitant - she'd been on Canal Sur (Andalusia TV) a couple of years ago, snowed in and cut off. The village has many ruined and abandoned buildings, but there now seem to be half a dozen renovated and inhabited houses, probably holiday homes, and a well-whitewashed church with a gratingly new pine door. There's also supposed to be a thousand year-old olive tree, but I didn't spot it.
A few km to the north and then west, there's a track up to the Contraviesa ridge. This must be at about 1500m; it was where the clouds took over, and is the most densely vegetated moorland I have come across in Spain, a stark contrast to the bare desert hillsides just around the corner. The only movement, apart from the occasional bird or beetle, were the clouds rolling up the valley. Silent, still and eerie.
The drive back down to the coast confirmed the old adage about never trusting what you see on a map - especially if you have 4 of them and they all say something different. If you try this trip, and you aren't in a 4-wheeler - don't go via Olías! The alternative routes may look longer but you stand more chance of getting back in one piece.
Coming down towards Castell de Ferro, and all along the coast to Motril, the plastic revolution hits you between the eyes, very hard - every square metre between the sea and the mountains is covered in it, feeding half of Europe and completely wrecking a gorgeous landscape in the process.
Tue 11 Sep
Salobreña
Yesterday afternoon in fact.
Encouraged by the generally overcast sky, I leafed through my Rutas y Senderos desde Salobreña book (who does Rutas play for, by the way?), and picked one I'd tried twice before without getting further than the thistles & brambles up the cliff 500m from the start. I set off at 4.30 - instead of a siesta, how about that? - & at the 3rd time of asking realised that the trick is, when the book says take the path to the left of the old olive tree, you have to take the path to the right, thus avoiding thistles, brambles, scrapes & scratches - well, most of them. I proceeded to apply this principle throughout the walk, & found paths where none seemed to exist - usually after a 20 min delay, typically walking down & up past a barking mad German Hund at least 5 times - he must have ended up with a sore throat!
Wonderful views of coast & mountains, & Salobreña from all sides, below & above, near & far. Lots of wild vegetation on cliffs & hillsides, lots of fruit trees with strange growths you couldn't put a name to, swallows still and a blackbird-sized black bird with a white bum - ?? Also a lot of trudge through very expensive urbanizaciones - you're obviously not supposed to be on foot in these places.
After 4 hours, just about to get back into Salobreña, and the narrow path indicated to the industrial estate on the edge of town just refused to materialise - a further half an hour wasted as a result - for the only time on this walk I had to accept defeat & retrace my steps to the previous junction. Eventually I flopped down in La Bodega for a tubo & the last 10 mins of Spain U21 4 Georgia 0 - no Gooners though - Mérida had played in the U17 World Cup final the night before, & Cesc plays with the big boys tomorrow night v. Latvia.
Legs nicely tired, feet too. I'll probably have my siesta tomorrow morning, end-on to my night's sleep . . .
[Pic: Playa del Caletón]
I had decided to try to find Fregenite, purportedly the least populated village in Spain with 1 inhabitant - she'd been on Canal Sur (Andalusia TV) a couple of years ago, snowed in and cut off. The village has many ruined and abandoned buildings, but there now seem to be half a dozen renovated and inhabited houses, probably holiday homes, and a well-whitewashed church with a gratingly new pine door. There's also supposed to be a thousand year-old olive tree, but I didn't spot it. 
A few km to the north and then west, there's a track up to the Contraviesa ridge. This must be at about 1500m; it was where the clouds took over, and is the most densely vegetated moorland I have come across in Spain, a stark contrast to the bare desert hillsides just around the corner. The only movement, apart from the occasional bird or beetle, were the clouds rolling up the valley. Silent, still and eerie. 
Coming down towards Castell de Ferro, and all along the coast to Motril, the plastic revolution hits you between the eyes, very hard - every square metre between the sea and the mountains is covered in it, feeding half of Europe and completely wrecking a gorgeous landscape in the process.
