Walk to Piedras de Cura

After the activity of the past few days, I was grateful for a quiet uneventful Friday, and didn't go far. This morning, however, with the weather still cool and cloudy, I decided on a good long walk. I took the promenade west, and went on beyond Castello Sohail, as far as the promenade would take me. It runs out, where the golden beach turns into a stretch of low rocky cliffs, with a footpath alongside the N340. I walked as far as the imposing landmark promontory of Piedras del Cura, before turning for home.

There's a car park lay-by adjacent to the rock, and there always seem to be visitors there whenever I drive past. Perched on top is a small statue of the Virgin on a plinth dated 1st January 2000. There are several plaques, and graffiti on flat rock faces. All seem to be of a commemorative nature, installed spontaneously, judging by posies of artificial flowers and occasional pot plant placed there. Are they for accident victims, in this vicinity? I wondered.

When I got back to Los Boliches, I had coffee and tarta de queso in Granier, and thought about Clare in Kenilworth, looking after Rhiannon this weekend. This tea shop is one of her favourites.

I reckon the round trip was about eight miles. I took many other photos, of empty beaches washed by a stormy sea, of a group of young surfers, finding the autumnal conditions to their liking, and a few more of sardinas on skewers roasting on outdoor the ubiquitous boat shaped barbequeues, which it seems every beach chirrunguito must have in its domain.

I also noticed at the end of the beach near the Castello, a neat lined up collection of a dozen such boats with the Costa del Sol logo on the side, indicating that they were municipal public barbequeues. All looking a bit forlorn on a damp grey day.

Even an urban beach empty of holidaymakers, on a damp grey day, has its moments of wildness, when the breaking sea floods across the sand and overwhelms stacks of sun-loungers for a fleeting moment, or an egret or a sanderling is glimpsed foraging among the detritus on the waterline. Quite a contrast to hot crowded summer days.