When I was told to wear tennis shoes, I knew this would be quite the hike. After catching the wrong bus, snagging a taxi to get me to the right place, and then waiting an hour for another bus to take me to Sierra Elvira….I was finally on my way for an outdoor excursion with the Fundacion.
Everyone from the safe home was going, and the founders Ignacio and Carlos invited the Rotary Girls along, and told us to wear our tennis shoes. And that we were lucky we didn’t smoke like everybody else.
We arrived in Monachil just 20 minutes after leaving Granada, but the landscape was immediately different. We were so close to the craggy, grey mountains, usually something that is just in the distance for me. As we began walking a well-worn path, I thought, This isn’t so bad…but then Carlos began walking straight up a hill that looked nearly impossible to climb. As I went for it, little rocks slid under my tennis shoes, and with nothing to hold on to, I thought…oh boy…here I go. The best bet was to get some momentum going and run up the steep incline, hoping the dirt would hold and you wouldn’t crush the children behind you. What a thought. Carlos must have seen my face because he shouted from the top, "Er-ee-ca! This is a walk you will never forget!"
Our three hour trek included some crawling, a very scary suspension bridge over the river, and hanging on for dear life to mountain climbers’ hand rails. Now I can see why this place is so popular with climbers…every step is precarious. It was definitely a fun hike, because you never knew what the next step would be like….I laughed when I had to slither on my belly to make it under a rock formation, looking down at the river below. Yipes!
After an hour and a half, we stopped in a clearing to enjoy some oranges. The Moroccan boys climbed so high up a nearby cliff, they merely looked like specks. Off we went again for the second leg of the journey, into Los Cahorros Gorge. Our group numbered about 45, and we were the only people in this beautiful, silent country. The sky was clear of clouds, and a striking blue-it was hard to watch where you were walking when all you wanted to do was look up, up and up.
Just when I thought I really couldn’t walk anymore, Carmen told us her house was just 30 minutes away. Yeah, uphill!! I just kept thinking how this was good for my “cintura,” or waistline. As if from nowhere, a little stone home with red clay tiles appeared, and we were there. The home of Mike, a Brit who came to Spain 15 years ago, and Carmen, a flamenco instructor, was absolutely beautiful in its simplicity. Not five minutes after we arrived, Mike began pouring rice into a huge pan on the ground. I guess the pan has to be large if you are feeding 45 people. Garbanzo beans and potatoes with curry paired with saffron rice with dried fruit was such a treat, and easily the most savory meal I’ve had in Spain.
We ate on a huge blanket spread between citrus trees and watched as the children from the Fundacion played soccer and the adults smoked and enjoyed the breathtaking view of Granada in the distance. The Rotary girls earned our keep, we washed all the dishes in the freezing water in an outdoor sink until our fingers were pink and frozen. It’s cold up in the mountains! I had on two sweaters and still felt the chill.
Of course our descent was easier and thankfully a different route, and took about an hour. Little farms perched on the hills were so beautiful, and at around 5p.m., the farmers were out tilling the land and hand-casting seed. One man was even accompanied by a little black pig, tail a-swishing as the oinker followed behind.
Back in the car on the way back to Granada-and after I had pet a donkey that was in the parking lot…I guess it was someone’s ride… the sunset over the snow-covered mountains was orange and pink. My first thought, sadly, was “Thank goodness we didn’t hike up those mountains in the snow and ice!” But there’s still time for that. I do have two more weeks here.
Everyone from the safe home was going, and the founders Ignacio and Carlos invited the Rotary Girls along, and told us to wear our tennis shoes. And that we were lucky we didn’t smoke like everybody else.
We arrived in Monachil just 20 minutes after leaving Granada, but the landscape was immediately different. We were so close to the craggy, grey mountains, usually something that is just in the distance for me. As we began walking a well-worn path, I thought, This isn’t so bad…but then Carlos began walking straight up a hill that looked nearly impossible to climb. As I went for it, little rocks slid under my tennis shoes, and with nothing to hold on to, I thought…oh boy…here I go. The best bet was to get some momentum going and run up the steep incline, hoping the dirt would hold and you wouldn’t crush the children behind you. What a thought. Carlos must have seen my face because he shouted from the top, "Er-ee-ca! This is a walk you will never forget!"
Our three hour trek included some crawling, a very scary suspension bridge over the river, and hanging on for dear life to mountain climbers’ hand rails. Now I can see why this place is so popular with climbers…every step is precarious. It was definitely a fun hike, because you never knew what the next step would be like….I laughed when I had to slither on my belly to make it under a rock formation, looking down at the river below. Yipes!
After an hour and a half, we stopped in a clearing to enjoy some oranges. The Moroccan boys climbed so high up a nearby cliff, they merely looked like specks. Off we went again for the second leg of the journey, into Los Cahorros Gorge. Our group numbered about 45, and we were the only people in this beautiful, silent country. The sky was clear of clouds, and a striking blue-it was hard to watch where you were walking when all you wanted to do was look up, up and up.
Just when I thought I really couldn’t walk anymore, Carmen told us her house was just 30 minutes away. Yeah, uphill!! I just kept thinking how this was good for my “cintura,” or waistline. As if from nowhere, a little stone home with red clay tiles appeared, and we were there. The home of Mike, a Brit who came to Spain 15 years ago, and Carmen, a flamenco instructor, was absolutely beautiful in its simplicity. Not five minutes after we arrived, Mike began pouring rice into a huge pan on the ground. I guess the pan has to be large if you are feeding 45 people. Garbanzo beans and potatoes with curry paired with saffron rice with dried fruit was such a treat, and easily the most savory meal I’ve had in Spain.
We ate on a huge blanket spread between citrus trees and watched as the children from the Fundacion played soccer and the adults smoked and enjoyed the breathtaking view of Granada in the distance. The Rotary girls earned our keep, we washed all the dishes in the freezing water in an outdoor sink until our fingers were pink and frozen. It’s cold up in the mountains! I had on two sweaters and still felt the chill.
Of course our descent was easier and thankfully a different route, and took about an hour. Little farms perched on the hills were so beautiful, and at around 5p.m., the farmers were out tilling the land and hand-casting seed. One man was even accompanied by a little black pig, tail a-swishing as the oinker followed behind.
Back in the car on the way back to Granada-and after I had pet a donkey that was in the parking lot…I guess it was someone’s ride… the sunset over the snow-covered mountains was orange and pink. My first thought, sadly, was “Thank goodness we didn’t hike up those mountains in the snow and ice!” But there’s still time for that. I do have two more weeks here.
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