The Misty Mountain Hop – Part the Second

Bare on a Night Mountain.....

So, leaving Trevelez behind, we made our way deeper into the Sierra Nevada, eventually parking up at the top end of a village called Capileira. As we came around the Mountainside and caught sight of it, and its ‘sister’ village, Bubion, clinging to the slopes above, it was breathtaking. Even higher still, towering above at some 11,000 feet were the snow-dusted peaks themselves, defiant in the July sunshine.

The two villages high on the slopes

We spent several nights here, walking around the village, enjoying the shops and cafes, and going on huge walks up and around the mountainsides. The village, while beautiful, had a faint air of superiority that clung to many of its inhabitants. Don’t get me wrong, there were some smiles, but there was a snobism prevalent amongst many that lived here (I’m not necessarily talking about the Spanish here) for instance, there was an Irish guy on the phone in a cafe we visited. I’m pretty sure he worked in some capacity for a TV production company or similar, and his phone call was conducted almost like a speech to the surrounded table, bursting with pomposity and self-importance. It was very hard not to stop what I was doing and in gradiose fashion announce “my WORD, you’re an important fellow, aren’t you?”. I feel sure that’s what he would have wanted.

I think that was him, over my shoulder!

High above Capileira (and out of breath!)

"It's good 'ere, innit?"

Tiring work, this sketching business.....

Nevertheless, we enjoyed both villages immensely, and we were hoping to extend our stay in the area as we set off along a route that would gradually take us home. Lamentably, we seemed to be on a road that offered little in the way of stops (save for the spectacular scenery) and in short order we began to enter the area I call Plastic city, where the huge sheets of plastic stretched for miles across poles to grow food beneath have blighted the area and bring a whole new meaning to the word ‘eyesore’. I know it’s probably necessary for food production, but it sure makes you wanna join Greenpeace!  I just feel lucky that we live further along the coast, where the natural beauty (thankfully) remains relatively untouched. If you want to understand the scale of the problem, just take a look at this NASA photo of the area below:

Obviously this is where the singer Yazz got her 'plastic population' from then...

So, we ended up coming home earlier than planned, but resolved to go back and unearth some more undiscovered gems in the mountains at a later date.

Kev Moore

The Misty Mountain Hop – part the first

I know we only seem to stay in one place for a nanosecond before flitting off again, but believe it or not last year we felt we hadn’t really used the Boomobile enough, so we’ve made a point of remedying that in 2010. Our latest jaunt was up into the Sierra Nevada, mainly for Miki to sketch, but also for me to get a little distance from the album, and read some books.  Two of them were music related, of course, a wonderful biography of the legendary Who drummer Keith Moon, by Tony Fletcher, highly recommended, and Jools Holland’s Barefaced lies and Boogie Woogie boasts, a witty and informative autobiography by a great musician and presenter. I also managed to cram in the actor Robert Lindsay’s autobiography, Letting Go, which he kindly signed to Miki and I following Miki’s superb portrait of him, and perhaps the fact we’re both Derbyshire lads who support The Rams and have sang about them!

Rolling Stones on tour....

Anyway, as we journeyed away from the coast and up onto the winding mountain roads, our route appeared to quickly become ever more vertiginous. Miki was staring to get nervous (which is when I , perversely, start to enjoy myself) Added excitement was provided by: 1) The rock falls onto our carriageway, and 2) the disappearance down the mountainside of huge chunks of the opposite carriageway. We were encountering these at such frequent intervals, I can only marvel that we didn’t ever encounter both at the same time, thereby rendering passage impossible. This happy circumstance notwithstanding, I was glad to have brought copious amounts of underwear…..

"Here we go loop de loop...."

From the signs we saw everywhere, it appeared that many millions of European funds were being allocated to fixing these death traps roads. It seems to me that the money would have been better spent on teaching the Spanish how to build them properly in the first place.

Following an unfortunate right hand turn that almost resulted in me inadvertently making off with an entire village’s supply of fiesta bunting, not to mention a couple of old ladies wrapped round the wing mirrors, we finally entered the village of Tevelez in a more appropriate manner. The sign at the entrance proclaimed that the village ‘touched the sky’ and as we looked up from the valley road at the white buildings disappearing into the mountain mists, I felt inclined to believe them.  By sheer good fortune, we ended up beautifully parked within the village, adjacent to a waterfall and mountain stream.

The artist at work. I was making the coffee......

We spent a lovely couple of days there exploring the steep village streets and houses, and embarking on one of the mountain walks that circumnavigated the area. Miki of course, began sketching the sights around her. You can read about her thoughts and see some sketches from our trip HERE.

Working up an appetite on the slopes

....and a raging thirst

Perhaps the most staggering sight for me was that of the great swathes of pristine white snow still stubbornly clinging to the higher peaks, even in mid-July! Hiking around shirtless in the summer heat and gazing up at the snow was distinctly surreal.

Nature boy

Just having fun

One interesting event was when we heard some strange crackling sounds, and looked out of the window to find that a mist had descended all around the Motorhome – Except we soon discovered it was smoke, and where there’s smoke, there is inevitably fire. Jumping out of the Boomobile we could just about make out two figures trying to control a blaze of their own making. Health and Safety. Two words completely anonymous with each other in Spain.

"I told you not to smoke on the job, Manuel..."

"Aaahh! The cool, crisp, clean mountain air....."

The village also seemed to be famous for its Jamon, though we saw hide nor hair of a single pig on our whole trip. I could only conclude from this that the entire population had been slaughtered and now hung unceremoniously in the shops.

Nice legs, shame about the face.

Having enjoyed a wonderful few days in Tevelez, we filled our bottles from the fresh mountain water and headed off to find some more of these fairy tale villages, tucked away beneath the Spanish peaks.

Kev Moore

We are so lucky….

Just saying hello......

An ass in the wild.........and a donkey in the background

Every day, Miki and I head out at 12.40 to nearby Vera for our 1k swim.  It’s about a 20k round trip, and we take a usually deserted back road which almost goes ‘as the crow flies’ between our place and the pool.  It always seems like something amazing is happening on that road, giant lizards scuttle across in front of you, or a snake coils its way from one side of the road to the other, or great flurries of brightly coloured birds fly above us. The other day, the whole road seemed to be dancing with wedding confetti, when in fact, as we got closer we realized it was a myriad of butterflies.

"I'm staying with Dad....."

"Oi!!! What you looking at???"

Lately, we have taken to seeing a lovely donkey patiently waiting at the side of the road when we pass, and yesterday we could resist no longer and Miki got out to say hello.  Today we also decided to get some photos of the wonderful horses that we pass in the stables near the pool.

"I think horses are overrated..... (((sniff)))) "

How lucky we are!  Not only to be able to go off and swim every day, but to drive through this beautiful countryside that serves up fresh surprises at every turn.

Kev Moore

Mojacar on film

I found this on my internet wanderings yesterday. basically , it’s where we live (5 minutes away anyway) so I thought I’d share it with you all. I especially like the Spanish bloke doing the commentary – Miki says his voice typifies the Spain she remembers, which is fast disappearing. Enjoy!

Kev Moore

Agua Amarga – 4 – In pictures

No ramblings from me today – just a handful of shots taken over the three days in this lovely coastal village.

Kev Moore

Agua Amarga -The sweet taste of bitter water – 2 –

Chilling out in our local cafe

The following day we decided to hike over the headland at the far end of the beach. but before that. it was time to chill in one of the outdoor cafes while Miki sketched and I read and listened to music.

The artist in action....

Situated in a lovely little square, it sort of became our ‘local’ for the few days we were in Agua Amarga.  We then headed back to the Boomobile where Miki worked on the sketches she’d just done outside, and as the afternoon wore on, we headed off to the headland. We could see some stone structures high on the ridge, particularly one of the many watchtowers that are dotted along this coast, plus other less identifiable ones. Little did we know, these were to be just the tip of the iceberg.

Only another few hundred feet to go......

Nearly there.......

Made it! -rewarded with a wonderful view!

We started our climb from the beach, and then cut across to a point where a clearly defined ‘wall’ seemed to stretch right up to the ridge.  We scaled this and looked down into the bay beyond. There, in front of us, was an incredible, huge series of structures occupying the entire valley. Solid stone walls, a hundred feet high, one after the other built from one slope to the other. great sunken wells disappearing into oblivion, obviously the source of the ‘bitter water’ the town was named for. It looked like some giant fortification that had been abandoned in haste.but we couldn’t work out what it actually was.

The beginnings of a mystery revealed to us...

Beside himself with excitement, Kev bounds off to investigate.....

We spent a great few hours climbing up, down, and around it, getting into some precarious positions!   Even managing to climb down to the sheer cliff in front of it. This deepened the mystery even further. Because it had this huge, un-scaleable wall, yet at the base, viewed from this side we saw a series of tunnels that were unhindered, running deep into the structure.  A long, precipitous staircase also ran high up the cliff to the watchtower on the headland.

Heading off to explore the tunnels.....

I'm King of the World!!!!

Smiling now - but with ominous staircase in background.....

"Tell me when I'm at the top...I'm not opening my eyes...."

As we looked out to sea, we saw a huge man-made stone structure in ruins, languishing in the shallows, the waves battering it mercilessly.  As we edged our way along the cliff, we found channels constructed out of stone blocks running for some meters then dropping sharply down the cliff-face to the ocean, and a stone building, dilapidated now, facing the ruins in the sea.  We climbed along as far as we could, but found further passage impossible, and prepared to make our way home via the stone steps up the side of the headland.   What was this mysterious collection of structures?  A little bit of research following our trip revealed all:

One of the more successful of the mining ventures in Almeria, mainly because it had better planning and better investment, resulted in the creation of railway line to the coast.  The line ran from mines in the mountains of the Sierra Alhamilla in the parish of Lucainena to the coast at Agua Amarga.The mines being some 30 km from the sea (the only practical long distance route in those days), either an aerial cable or a railway was needed to transport the iron ore. Given the terrain, a cable was easier but it was a long way and reliability could be a problem so a railway was chosen.

Giant hoppers for the ore  were built by taking advantage of the Calareno barranco which sloped down from the Nijar Palain to the sea. These were the huge walls we had seen.  Enormous deposits were built in its interior. They were conical and had a capacity of 45,000 tons. There were also auxiliary deposits built underground on the right-hand slopes.

In the upper part of the workings, some 80m above sea level, the main line finished. At the top, the line split. One branch continued on the level along the edge of the barranco. Its purpose was to fill the auxiliary underground hoppers via the small branches to the train’s left. It also connected with an inclined plane that went down to Agua Amarga. This plane brought coal for the ovens, wood for heating, machinery, foodstuff and other essential goods for the miners. It was all brought from ships moored near to the coast. At the bottom were fuel oil stores for the Lucainena generator.

The second branch continued down the barranco by means of a 231m inclined plane. It dropped 40m and operated in successive sets of six wagons, three loaded going down and three empty going up.

At the foot of the plane, lines branched out, some linked with the underground deposit, while others fed, via metal bridges, the main hoppers. Mineral was taken from the auxiliary hoppers to the main ones by wagons pushed by six or seven men, since there were no engines at the bottom of the inclined plane.

Under the main hoppers were access tunnels, in which were 600mm lines. I now realized the small trough in the tunnels that I saw when I explored them within was where the narrow gauge rail track sat. Wagons were filled with ore, then moved, again by hand, to the pier. The distance was 166m. Four arms went to the main hopper and one to the exterior.

The last part of the journey by land was across a great metal bridge. This was an inverted (rails on top) cantilever bridge that extended 70m over the sea and 14m above it. It was built by Miravalles who constructed cantilever bridges all over Spain. The bridge carried four lines, two out and two back. At the end were chutes, which discharged the ore directly into the hold of the ship. The ruins we had seen out in the water were the remains of the pier on which the bridge sat.

Along the top are the ruins of the harbour-master’s house, the telephone exchange and various offices – These ruins were the last we saw when we walked the cliffs.

So there you have it: we had stumbled upon a giant railway-fed iron ore depot on the coast. We were stunned at the amount of work involved in creating the mine, the line across the Nijar plain, and the giant hoppers and pier, etc, for a venture which began in 1896 , suffered the price crash of iron ore in the 20’s and finally ceased operations in 1942. amazing what you can find when you go climbing!

Back at the village limits exhausted and exhilirated - another great day out!

Kev Moore

Agua Amarga – The sweet taste of bitter water – 1 –

This view looking out towards Carboneras was just begging to be sketched...

To the casual observer, it might seem that we go on holiday a lot. But, in truth, these trips have more to do with a creative wellspring for Miki and a breath of fresh air for me than anything else. When we’re home, we’re really home, barely venturing out except for our daily swim, Miki hard at work producing pieces of art and me locked away in the studio. So every now and again it becomes necessary to escape these confines and stretch our wings. Our most recent trip was just an hour down the coast, to a  little village called Agua Amarga.  The beauty of living here is the proximity of so many lovely places where you can escape ‘on holiday’, only a short hop from home, yet feel you are completely removed – it’s great. This trip in particular brought home to us just how wildly beautiful our coastline is here on the Costa Almeria, and the Cabo de Gata Nijar in particular. The drive along the coast road through this Spanish National park is always breathtaking, no matter how often we do it. We stopped for coffee and the chance for Miki to sketch.

Since our last visit here, for just a few hours on the way back from Portugal,  Motorhomes had been prohibited in the village itself. No complaints there, as the streets are undeniably narrow and not really designed for the likes of the Boomobile. The Ramblas at the end of the village however, opening directly onto the beach, was the perfect spot, and several others had the same idea.

Sharing the Ramblas with several others

We got installed and then set out to explore. Agua Amarga boasts a beautiful beach, conveniently enclosed at both sides by striking rock formations jutting out into the sea, and looming high on either side. The village takes its name from the quality of the water in the wells here. Suffice to say, we had brought our own bottled variety from home!

Small, compact dwelling with sea views

We decided to go climbing, and discovered the remains of some old cave dwellings halfway up the cliff. Not satisfied with that, we climbed ever higher, exploring the headland and eventually coming out on the ridge, where an old concrete gun placement still stood sentinel across the ocean.

The cave dwellings and rock formations looked like they'd jumped straight out of a Roger Dean album cover

We saw a weather-beaten path snaking across the ridge, and we followed it for some time, eventually linking up with a recognizable trail heading back down to the main road.

Ill-advised assault on the North Face....

As the trail petered out halfway down the hill , giving way to a wider track, we discovered a half-parked, half-hidden 4×4 with a Tarbes (Miki’s hometown, where we had been some weeks previously) numberplate. Small world!  It was strange to find it there and we wondered about it for several days, having nothing better to do!

The effort to reach the top was well worth it....

The ramble/climb was fantastic, under fantastic sunshine, and we enjoyed it a lot as an alternative to swimming. Later that afternoon, Miki began her sketches while I went onto the beach and sunbathed, listening to my ipod, like a proper holidaymaker!

Miki finds the trail home

Looking out of the Boomobile that evening, our gaze alighted on the even higher headland that rose from the other end of the beach. We had a plan for tomorrow!

Kev Moore

Over the Hills and Far Away – 14 – Molina de Aragon revisited

Molina de Aragon

As our last major stop on the way home we chose Molina de Aragon. We’d been there before and knew there was a great place to park up for the night, in the shadow of the impressive old fort there. What we hadn’t done previously, however, was explore the town below, which, on the outskirts looked fairly unappetizing, but on further inspection yielded up a few unexpected treasures in the form of interesting buildings and suchlike.

The latest word in Spanish Air conditioning.......

We also climbed the hill to the top of the fort once again, by way of awarding ourselves some exercise (and thereby giving us a good excuse to eat a lot at dinnertime)

No bike ride today, then......

The weather. so long nipping at our heels as we escaped Southwards, finally caught up with us during  the night, and we awoke to the quite preposterous site of little mounds of snow on the bike saddles outside the rear window. Remember, this was Spain, in May.

Were we really basking in Sunshine just a few short days ago to the North?

As we headed across the hills towards the home, the snow proliferated, and we began to wonder if we’d ever escape it.

The skies begin to clear as we get ever closer to home.....

Some kilometers short of Murcia though, we stopped for our last overnight. the next morning the coast, and the familiar golden rays of home were there to welcome us.  Considering this had been a necessary trip to get the Boomobile tested, and drop Miki’s parents home, it had turned into a wonderfully enjoyable and impromptu holiday!

(You can see Miki’s sketches from Molina and elsewhere on the trip HERE.)

Kev Moore

Over the Hills and Far Away -13 – Arnedillo explored

Arnedillo

Situated as we were half way up the gorge, it was easy to see most of Arnedillo laid out in front of us, but it still harboured a few hidden delights upon closer inspection. An old stone bridge spanned the gorge at its narrowest point, affording us access to a winding path that climbed the hillside, giving us spectacular views of the town.

The weather continually threatened to change for the worse, and the sun barely appeared, but we still had a delightful time exploring.

Fearless in the extreme, I trip the light fantastic down the hillside like a newborn gazelle....

However, I seemed unable to shake my fear of falling rocks.......

We discovered many oddities along the path, including some very interesting, yet seemingly abandoned old dwellings.  One of them had the coolest staircase.

Seriously open plan staircase from a pre-IKEA civilisation.

"Is it a bird, is it a plane?" - "No, Raul, it's that English idiot skipping down a mountain..."

The biggest surprise Arnedillo had in store for us however was a 2 kilometer long tunnel hidden beneath the town. As we discovered it, two small children were emerging from the gloom. We asked where it led. The little lad, drew himself to his full height and sadi in Spanish -“Oh, it goes all the way under the town, there is a small section where it’s a little wet, but you’ll manage.” I’m sure he impressed his small companion. We had our bikes by this time, and set off on the most surreal subterranean ride I’ve ever experienced.

I bet Lance Armstrong hasn't done THIS.

As usual with the bikes, we got a bit carried away and decided to head along the cycle path thoughtfully provided towards the next village.

"Right, that's it. I'm turning around. I've only just got enough fuel to get back."

"My white bicycle" - which Scottish band had a hit with it? Answers in the comments please!

Arnedillo was great fun, and after buying some local Rioja for our neighbours, we set off relentlessly South once again.

Kev Moore

Over the Hills and Far Away – 12 – Autos and Armadillos

When we're ridin' the Boomobile, the roadside cafe is wherever we damn well say it is....

We’d finally wrung the last drop of sunshine out of this corner of France and crossed the border back into Spain, aiming to spend a few days sauntering home.  always gasping for a coffee, it wasn’t long before we’d pulled over for a cuppa.  eventually we did actually manage to get a few kilometers under our belt and ended up in a town strangely called Autol.  We found agreat spot for the night by a gently babbling stream, and a picturesque path running alongside it.  Unusually for me, I wanted more coffee and situated myself on a perfectly placed bench by the river on which to enjoy it.

It's not all just lounging around, you know, there's coffee drinking too.....

Suitably refreshed, we followed the path along the river and discovered in the centre of the village, two huge monoliths that looked like a man and a woman, and indeed local legend handily bears out this, telling of two thieves who , in trying to escape justice , were turned to stone.  The efficacy of this type of punishment is undeniable, as is the aesthetic advantage it lends to the village of Autol, which, apart from the two monoliths, consists of a sprawl of gravity defying houses and a church, meandering up the vertiginous hillside.

"That's another fine mess you've got me into, Jose." - Stone cold justice in Autol.

These kind of villages are the complete antithesis of the pre-planned American (and frankly boring) grid system, which has a place for everything and everything in its place. Here in Spain, everything is in the wrong place, the same place, or has run out of space and bugger the consequences. The upshot being that we are often witness to joyfully unbridled chaos.

"We'll stick that on top of there, burrow a hole and put a door in there....if anyone complains we'll just bulldoze the lot and start again, but with bigger bribes."

The next day we headed out of Autol and made for a town I couldn’t help calling Armadillo, though apparently it’s called the singularly less interesting Arnedillo. A distant, less-armour-plated cousin, perhaps?  The weather was starting to send u s a message in the form of intimidating low cloud-cover.

Change in the weather courtesy of that well-known supermodel, Cloudier Shifter.....

We were travelling along the Ruta de Cicados – which was essentially, “The Dinosaur Trail”. As an old rocker, I was certainly qualified to be here, then.  We espied “Armadillo” shoehorned into a gap in the gorge  just  before entering a tunnel and coming out the other end to find a great parking spot for motorhomes. Voila – We had our next nights stop. Meanwhile, the storm clouds continued to gather……

First view of Arnedillo

The Boomobile nestles relatively safely beneath millions of tons of overhanging prehistoric rock….

Tomorrow, we would explore Arnedillo, weather permitting.

Kev Moore