Waiting to hike out of Grazalema.
Today was a “travel” day as we checked out of the Puerta de la Villa hotel, piling our luggage together in the lobby where it would be picked up and delivered to our rooms in the parador in Ronda.
We set off on foot from the hotel, going through the valley below Grazalema and back up to a hotel on the other side. We spotted a couple of turkeys (domesticated) on the way down that obligingly stopped to allow me to shoot a couple of photos. Once on the road at the other the other hotel, we walked briefly down the main road to a side road and commenced to walk through the countryside until we reached Rio Campobuche o Guadares. At that point, we turned off the road and walked along the side of the river. We had some company along the way as an inquisitive goat followed us to the point where we forded the stream. The goat then followed us on the opposite bank for a while until other things caught its interest.
The weather had dawned clear and mild, and I was wearing an undershirt and shirt. My polartec fleece was lashed to my pack, with my rain gear tucked inside. But as the day wore on, the light rain started again and the camera went into its Ziploc bag and the rain jacket came out.
Waiting to hike out of Grazalema.
Pausing to take a snapshot.
Turkey on the way out of town.
Bruno leading the way down the path.
The yellow/orange rock formation caught my eye.
The road down the valley before heading up the hill to the other hotel.
A look down the valley.
Looking back towards Grazalema - hidden behind the yellow/orange outcropping.
A watering trough.
Cork oak, after harvesting.
Although it was fall, there were some wildflowers along the way.
Hiking up the hill towards the second hotel. I think that's Harvey, Joyce, and Nick.
Teague, Joyce, and Cindy taking a rest.
These cork oaks were on the grounds of the hotel; at the higher level evidence of an earlier harvest.
On our way to Montejaque.
Olives on the tree.
The inquisitive goat.
Last stretch on the road before heading cross country.
Cross country.
Judy, Janet, and Deena pause for a moment - Judy on the right.
Janet crossing the stream with Nick's assistance with Bruno perched on the rock.
The goat followed us this far and a little beyond before going on her way.
A view of the countryside.
Deena, in front of Bruno and Janet, Judy, Joyce (obscured), Rich, and Oakley.
Walking by the riverside.
Walking through the oaks.
More riverside.
And more walking.
A modern bridge.
Pausing for lunch under the tree in the rain.
A not-so-modern bridge.
Heading down the road - Jonathan in the lead, with Rich, Judy, and Joyce.
Ham (jamon) on the hoof.
This ham wasn't gonna move.
Some colorful berries.
I think this is Cindy, Deena, and Janet coming up the road.
Sheep, running picturesquely across the valley.
Resting up in Montejaque - Janet, Bruno, and Ralph.
Jonathan checks out the view from our room in the parador in Ronda.
The view from our room.
A colorful sunset.
The initial road, prior to the river, led us up and down, while for the most part, the path along the river was level. There were two times Nick led us on a detour to avoid bee or yellow jacket nests. The path along the river went through cork oak groves showing plenty of signs of cork harvesting. The stripping of the outer bark apparently does not harm the tree as some trees show evidence of multiple harvests.
Eventually we stopped for lunch in the rain at a dam where we set up on the masonry of the dam as it came up the bank of the river. Lunch consisted of tomato, cream cheese, and anchovies on bread. We also had two patés – venison and quail – olives, pickles, cheese, and quince spread. Although we were under a tree, the rain filtered through the branches and eventually we used umbrellas to shelter the most rain sensitive provisions. The leftovers were left for the wild pigs while we packed out our trash. I too a bag of trash that dangled off my pack until we reached the bar in Montejaque.
The path along the river was not as clearly trod as the trail the day before, sometimes looking like we were going cross-country. There was a lot of evidence of the wild pigs with their tracks and the disturbed soil and leaves around the oak trees where they root for acorns.
After lunch, the rain would come and go as our path eventually reached an access road that we followed the remainder of the way to Montejaque. The mud was very sticky and pernicious, resisting efforts to knock it off our boots.
We reached the village of Montejaque a little after 1600 where we rested, drank beer, and waited for the bus, which drove us 12 km to Ronda where we were reunited with our bags, took a hot showers and sit sipping wine, writing in the journals. We meet for dinner at 2025, in about 15 minutes.