Ascent to Istan

Having spent a good deal of yesterday and this morning cleaning the house and preparing for the arrival of Fr Hywel tomorrow evening, I felt it was time for one last outing with a camera. So, I drove down the N-340 to Marbella, then turned inland to ascend to the hill village of Istan, which stands at 600m at the top of a valley in the biosphere park of the Sierra de las Nieves, about 15km above the conurbation. For about 8km below the village the steep sided valley has been transformed by a dam into a huge lake, providing a major water supply for the region. 

Vehicle access to the lake is officially restricted but large numbers of people visit for family outings, or else for bird watching. Without a guide, to help find a proper parking place, and avoid getting lost on the multitude of forest trails in the surrounding environment, I decided to give the nature walk a miss on this occasion, and drove all the way up  to the beautifully maintained village, perched on a high ridge, overshadowed by gaunt grey peaks of 2,500m. Forestry, horticulture and now eco-tourism have enabled this place to thrive and even grow in recent decades, so there are plenty of new buildings in the traditional Andalusian 'white village' style, that blend in nicely. You can see my photos here.

On my first stay in Fuengirola, I drove along the high road from Coin to Marbella to discover Monda, and the remotely located Refugio de Juanar with its spectacular views out across the sea from 900m. I noticed there a walker's trail signpost showing Istan as the next destination, 10km away. That's stayed on my to-do list ever since, but there's been no opportunity of company to share it with with. Very glad to have seen Istan, however.

Well, there's been a modest amount of Hallowe'en hype in the shops, even our local Granier pasteleria had a few fake cobwebs hung over its wall lights. So incongruous in such a bright clean eaterie. There were no kids out in the dark trick or treating, that I noticed in our urbanizacion however, and yes there are a few families living in the neighbourhood, or visiting at weekends with young children. 

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.