Pas de s'heura

Over too infrequent visits over the last 2 decades, it seems that the tide of closure of access in the Serra de Tramontana has turned. When I was growing up and this was the adventure playground, some estates needed to be sneaked into or around, but it was mainly an open wilderness with a virtual infinity of paths to explore and ways to find. Then it looked like that would be reduced to a handful of authorised and marked routes with the rest fenced-off private land. One such case was the path along the coast from Port de Sóller leading to pas de s'heura, the ivy pass, and on to Balitx d'amunt and from there to Sóller. This was no. 2 of the 70+ editions of Rutes Amagades de Mallorca (hidden paths of Mallorca), a classic series that, so far as I know, is the first to record the fantastic wealth of walking routes of this island. So I was very sad to find, about 10 years ago, that about an hour into the route it had been closed off so effectively as to make the walk impossible. On the occasion I found the way blocked, being alone, I got round the fence but it went far down such a steep, unstable slope above the sea that it was really rather unpleasant and not a way to consider taking anyone but a goat for company. I was delighted to find recently that the point at which the path had been blocked was now open and there was just a multi-lingual sign warning of a dangerous path, at your own risk etc. So, on the last day of a busy two week visit of paper chasing and sheet mulching (see companion blog for the latter), I set out to do this walk once again.

One of the reasons I like it so much is that in under 5 hours, including lunch and photo stops, you pass through 3 very different landscapes, each superb examples of their type. The first is the "cliff path", initially a track which passes a number of houses perched above the sea. It then becomes a true path, at times a bit narrow above the drop into the sea, but the sheep fence on a particularly exposed slab of rock has now gone. The first photo shows the coast above which this route leads. It was taken on another occasion from the Torre d'en Picada, which would make a half-hour diversion near the start of the walk.

A pass next to this outcrop of rock, the second Cavall Bernat of the walk, brings you into the hidden valley of the Barranc de Balitx, where the going is hard if you lose the way, as a I and number of family and friends have done (it took a number of us several goes to find the pas de s'heura itself, despite the photos in the Rutes). The start used to be marked by an enormous growth of ivy, but the ivy is no longer there, only a yellow mark on the rock. You have to look for a ramp going up from right to left, a bit of a scramble but there is a sort of natural ballustrade of rock between you and the drop.

Then it's up and up, not really a path as much as a way between the rocks, but marked with cairns. Hollows in the pointed stones sprout plants like asphodel, arum lilies and a this plant whose name I don't know - it forms a bulb like an enormous onion, later in the year.

Finally you reach the olive groves around Sa Tanca d'es Bous, where I had lunch in the sun in shirt-sleeves.

From here, and the next stretch of path, you have a great view of the Puig Major over the asphodels.

Then it's into pastoral landscape as you pass the finca of Balitx d'amunt. The modest looking hill in the background is the Puig de Balitx, which this walk circuits. It's more of a scramble than it looks to get up it as the terrain is rent with fissures between the rocks, but the view of the wild coast to the north-east is worth it. You also look almost straight down into the sea some 500m below, the drop broken only by the shelf on which the finca of C'an Verí stands, directly below.

In the past I'd always gone down to Sóller as suggested in the Rutes, but now there is a signposted way to the Port. This is a beautiful path through olive groves, and at one point I stopped to listen to the sound of bells from a dozen sheep grazing. Looking above them I could see an almond tree in blossom, an orange tree with fruit and a date palm. The latter however is just decorative - the summer heat here is not intense enough to ripen dates. Maybe I missed the last bit of this path and ended up walking 2km of the road past Sa Figuera. Never mind, it's a very quiet road an leads past groves of orange trees in full fruit - a sight I find fantastically beautiful and emblematic both of Mallorca and of winters that don't freeze.

SE Spain cycling trip 2:colourful buildings and demolition

Day 6: Nerpio to Caravaca

Rather sorry to leave Nerpio and hope to come back with family for another encuentro de cuadrillas. I took some local advice on a track over the hills which I duly followed up a deserted valley, over a pass (a little pushing in places) and down to a village with ahh! a bar for mid-morning coffee! (making up for yesterday's ride on which I passed no such opportunity for this little luxury of cycling in Spain). After that I was back on the asphalt, in a landscape rather gentler and, surprisingly, greener than on the NW side of the mountains. I relaxed so much I didn´t look at the map, sailed past my turnoff and came out on the main road between Granada and Murcia. Not what I´d intended at all, and I would have backtracked if it hadn´t been quite a long way, and past a farm with some very nasty dogs. I´d outrun them on the downhill but didn´t fancy trying on the uphill. The main road had a shoulder, like most seem to now in Spain, so it makes for easy cycling even if not the most pleasant, and got me to Caravaca in a couple of hours.

Caravaca a handsome and historic city and pilgimage center, with this amazing building for the gruesome spectacle. Very helpful man in tourist information was enthusiastic about the Valle de Ricote (date palms, oranges and small but steep mountains), an area I was a bit dubious about after seeing the mess around Lorca.

Day 7: Caravaca to Blanca:

The stable clear weather has come to an end and some nasty stuff has hit most of Spain, with snow closing Madrid's main airport, but down here it only comes in the form of wind - a howling north-westerly.

Started off with about 30km of bike path following the old railway line between Caravaca and Murcia. The via verde, as it's known, was not always easy to follow and did a big detour round Bullas where I lost it completely. I'd been intending to follow it to Mula, but decided to strike north sooner rather than chase around looking for the elusive bike path. Bullas is a wine town, and I admired this bodega building on the outskirts.

The country north of Bullas was a big surprise - really rather beautiful, a mixture of almonds, arable and scrubby, steep mountains. Most of the farms had kept the old buildings, and the hideous villas were absent until near Ricote. Having a bite of lunch in the shelter of a wall in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, I was surprised to see 2 soldiers with guns appear round the corner. They were looking for a spot out of the wind to use their radio, and we had a pleasant chat. They were paratroopers, a man from San Sebastian and a woman from Cadiz, checking out a place to jump, but not today in this wind.

Approaching Ricote it suddenly began to change, with steep rather bare hills dropping down to the valley and its citrus orchards. Many of the houses are brightly coloured: particularly - yellows and pinks mostly, but some blue. This pic is not straight but the palm trees give you a clue why. Only place to stay is a fantastically luxurious but very reasonably priced converted manor house, not only shelter from the wind but makes me feel like a rock star.

Day 8: Blanca - Jumilla

Today presented something of a route-planning dilemma. There is a main road running pretty well straight to Jumilla, but the only 100% backroad route looked very long and up and down. So I compromised by doing a short stretch of main road, not so bad with the hard shoulder, and then heading off on backroads. The IGN 200,000 map proving very useful as it marks a lot of roads the Michelin doesn´t, and which are often not signposted. So far I´ve found it totaly accurate. As yesterday, todays ride was mostly through farming country (almonds, olives and, approaching Jumilla, vines) and between sierras. All looks very dry, and the spring flowers are nothing like as exuberant as in Mallorca. The farms that dot the country rarely have trees around them, certainly nothing you would call a garden, presumably because of the lack of water. Apart from the citrus in the Valle de Ricote and the odd fig tree, I´ve also seen almost no fruit trees on this trip. At least round here, as against in the coastal ranges, the almonds look cared for. The fields (groves seems the wrong word for such small trees planted so far apart) are on a big scale, like the olives in Andalucia. Vines mostly very small and planted far apart.

Entering Jumilla I admired this bodega building. A sign further down the street advertises the "proxima construcción" of another mass of new houses. Not for the first time on this trip I find myself obsessively photographing buildings which might not be around much longer.

Day 9: Jumilla - Villena

Late-ish start after a mosey around Jumilla and visit to the very interesting archeological museum. A few km out of town I stopped into a bar next to a turnoff that I thought was the road I wanted, but no signpost (it was, in fact - thanks to 200,000 map again). A couple of old boys eating deep-fried cheese with their wine for elevenses, which reminded me of the tourist blurb about Jumilla gastronomy: ¨many dishes have a high energy content¨.

Back road for about 20km between 2 ranges until I got near Yecla, at which point navigation came unstuck, with too many roads and no signs. Gave up and did a 5km stretch of main road, hard shoulder as usual, and with the wind at my back I covered it bowling along at 40km/hr. Spain is the easiest country in which I have ever cycled: wide roads with hard shoulders (unless they´re so minor there´s no traffic) and courteous drivers who give you a wide berth and don´t hoot at you. On this trip I have not had a single near-nasty with a vehicle, and that includes riding in Barcelona, Palma, Valencia and in and out of several medium-sized towns.

Anyway, past that stretch of main road I turned off on a minor road to Villena and stopped for lunch in the shelter of a ruined farm as the wind still rather strong. Nice sky blue wash on the peeling stucco. A short while further on crossed into Alicante province, pretty much coinciding with a subtle but noticeable change in the landscape. It´s greener, and the farms often have trees around them - big pines, like around some of the farms in the Garrigue - and even some fruit trees. Looking further east the hills are wooded and it begins to look almost like Catalunya rather than southern Morocco.

Villena: I hadn´t been expecting much of this place after seing the usual curtain of high-rise from the train on the way down, but it´s really very pleasant. Some lovely squares with children playing, despite it being rather chilly; old buildings renovated rather than waiting to be demolished; restaurants that look like you might actually want to eat in them. It feels rather Catalan, but as I found out the following morning from a friendly man with a degree in archeology who was selling bread in the market, it's nothing of the sort. Administratively part of Alicante province, Villena is Castellano-speaking, though just a few kilmeters to the east Valenciano is spoken. It´s nice to finish wanting to continue: it would in a way be nice to carry on into the Pais Valenciano, but that is for another trip.

Its been a great little trip of 9 days covering 584 km through 4 regions and 5 provinces.

South-Eastern Spain cycling trip 1: almond blossom and desarollo salvaje

Day 1: Cartagena to Mazarron:

Very early start from Valencia to get train to Mucia and on the Cartagena, fortunately without having to dismantle bike. I had read recently about uncontrolled building not just on coast but some way inland as well, so the rash of hideous villas around Alicante, Elche and in the Huerta de Murcia no surprise. From taking the train this way over 30 years ago I remember the landscape as exotic - looking, oranges, date palms and craggy mountains, but also with a certain messyness to it. It struck me as much the same now but much messier - with the added element of hideous villas seeking to re-define nouveau-riche.

Cartagena: quick turn through old city with its ornate facades, but it was past mid-day and I wanted to push on. The road I took was much more major than I like to ride, but OK, with a hard shoulder. Went inland of the coastal range which lines one of the few undeveloped stretches of coast. All dry-looking but with patches of orange, almond and olive grove, and quite a bit of spring flowers. And still the new villas, which along with the mess of building makes landscape look rather scruffy, past a huge developent called La Hacienda Vieja which was patently neither. Finally got into more mountainous country, over a pass and down to Puerto de Mazarron. Nothing had prepared me for this place: vast sprawls of new houses, some sprouting towers like miniature pagodas, others like witches hats, and all in different colours. It is hidous beyond belief and makes Magalluf look classy. It was a relief to turn inland and pass instead huge greenhouses growing tomatoes, at least its growing food on the land.

Mazarron (7km inland): It seems there was an old town here, at least there are a couple of rather humble churches and some fortifications, but it too has been swallowed by new building. All baffling, as I can´t see anyone much in these buildings and the town seems mainly inhabited by Africans, Moroccans and Latin Americans, the labour of the building boom and the tomato growing.

Found an Ecuadorian-run locutorio with a couple of computers to write up the log. The town itself is really a depressing mess of concrete without any sense of a town as such - nowhere for a paseo, no plaza in the familiar sense, nothing. I was beginning to feel I wasn´t in Spain at all as I know it when I went past the municipal market and saw it was operating, so went inside and found a reassuringly very Spanish market, even if most of the shoppers were migrant workers. Admired the smoked bonito and fresh fish, but just stocked up on oranges and dates for tomorrow´s ride.

Day 2: Mazarron - Velez Blanco.

Leaving the third-world construction site of Mazarron behind, followed roads up a valley where all old building and cultivation seemed abandoned. The odd ruined cortijo surrounded by prickly pear and agave, and abandoned almond orchards. The almonds were to be a constant feature of the landscape throughout this trip, growing in the most dry and desolate spots, right up to around 1,200m in the Betic Cordillera. The current agriculture here close to the coast is greenhouses and fields of vegetables - artichokes, cauliflower, havas, and the people working them all looked like immigrants. When I stopped for a coffee the bar was lined with men (Spanish men, not immigrants who were out doing the grind in the fields and greenhouses), eating men´s food for elevenses: meaty, oily, garlicky concoctions washed down with wine or beer. Felt a bit sheepish ordering a cafe con leche.

Out of that valley, over a pass and down towards Lorca, quite a big place also surrounded by fantastically messy construction, though I assume here not entirely tourist-driven. With its backdrop of arid-looking cliffs it reminded me of aspects of Cairo. Old centre not very big, just a few streets, so after stocking up on provisions (more of those superb oranges) headed on. Gradually through the afternoon left the scruffy, chewedup-looking badlands behind and got into more wooded country and nearer bigger mountains - the Sierra de la Giganta. Reaching the closely settled and cultivated Vega of the same name, Velez Blanco presented an awful prospect to a tired cyclist - ie UP! Finally made it, got myself a very comfortable room and went up to look at the castle - restored and very imposing on a grag above the village. A hard day, 91km and over 1,000m net altitude gain plus another few hundred of up and down.

Day 3: Velez Blanco to Puebla de don Fadrique

Had a good look around Velez Blanco, a town where my mother and I stopped briefly on our trip to Andalucia in 1975. Its nice to be in a place where there seems to be some sense of heritage after the awful mess near the coast.

Took a detour on a dirt track up into Sierra de Maria, involving a bit of pushing, then down to Maria, at 1,200m on edge of altiplano which stretched to next lot of mountains and my destination of Puebla de don Fadrique. Nice ride across plains under a big sky, road bordered with snow markers, passed the tiny and almost deserted village of Cañadas de Cañelpa. Took a detour to photograph some ruined farm buildings and an isolated church near where the mountains rise up at the northern edge of the altiplano.

Puebla de don Fadrique a bit of a wierd place, in the middle of nowhere but astride a relatively major road between Granada and Murcia. From my hotel room I have a fine view of several building sites in various stages of completion.

Day 4: Over the spine of the Cordillera Bética to Nerpio.

Gradual climb out of the almond groves and into pine and encina woods to Puerto del Pinar, at 1,600m the high point of the trip. Left my bike to climb a hill for the view, but all fairly similar to what I could see from the road. La Sagra dominates, at 2,400m significantly higher than anything else around except for the Sierra Nevada, just visable far to the south west. A little further on, turned off towards Nerpio and into La Mancha, and then took another detour off the main road, this time on the bike into what turned out to be the grazing grounds of a very imposing bull. Conscious of my bright red jersey, although I know bovines are supposed to be colour-blind, I edged past it and it fortunately took no notice. More big skies, and a sense of being right on top of the Cordillera Bética.

Road headed down a valley past the odd farm, then at Pedro Andrés entered a gorge, guarded by hilltop tower. By mid-afternoon arrived at Nerpio to find there was a music festival going on - the encuentro de cuadrillas de Nerpio. One group were having a well-lubricated practice session at the place where I waited to get a room, as the staff were frantically serving lunch. Then main event was in the plaza, chairs arranged for the old, of whom of course there were many, space in the middle in front of the stage for dancing. Dancing was for young and old, but very much for those who knew how to - not difficult stuff, but obviously steps to know. But everyone of all ages seemed to be having the most fantastic time, it was great to be there, and the music is so gripping. Really a fantastic piece of luck stumbling upon this event.

Day 5: Day ride from Nerpio via Yetas and Claras

I liked Nerpio, and the Pension El Molino, so much I stayed an extra night and went for a ride minus most of my (greatly reducable) baggage. I went north to se what the country is like and had a really nice but longer (77km) ride than expected. Fantastic area, big, rugged, rather dry, too remote even for the villa rash to have spread - though of course there is building going on, but its more in the nature of re-building village houses and does not clash as horribly with local styles as the suburban villas near the coast.