Many, many years ago my friend Gordon and I walked right across the Sierra Nevada - we took the bus from Granada and spent the first night in a simple refuge just under the summit of Veleta, which along with Mulhacen marks the highest point of the sierra. Even in the height of summer there were still patches of snow.
The following day we bathed under a waterfall of a mountain stream that would later become the Rio Lanjarón. Throughout that day we followed the Rio Lanjarón down the valley – still high enough to cope with the heat of the July sun. We saw no-one else other than a goat herd who waved from the hills on the other side of the valley. That night we slept in the open air of a pine forest, sharing our chocolate with the wood ants.
The following day we realised we had taken the path along the western side of the valley rather than that to the east which would have been more dircet. It meant that, rather than arriving in Lanjarón before the sun became too hot, we had to trek for hours as our water ran out. Fortunately, we made it before sunstroke set in, though the water of Lanjarón tasted sweeter than ever.
Thirty-eight years on I realise that one of the charms of Granada for me is its proximity to the mountains, and the fact that town and countryside merge together. Not to mention, of course, the astonishing moorish architecture:
There is more about our trip to Andalucia on my website at http://www.johnmeed.net/andalucia/
