Most travellers to the coast between Granada & Malaga take the highway, the A-44, that edges between the Sierra Nevada and the Sierras de Tejeda y Almijara. It’s fast and efficient and itself offers some beautiful vistas. The old road between Almuñecar and Granada – the aptly named Carretera de la Cabra, or mountain goat road- is the ‘pre-motorway’ route; one that has now been pretty much abandoned by drivers and is just the haunt of the few locals who live along the roads’ length and cyclists looking for a tough challenge. Compared to the A-44 it’s a much more rugged and appealing prospect – although definitely not for those in a hurry to get to the coast.
Heading towards the coast from Granada the country becomes steadily more remote, wild and forested as you keep going. Passing the 25km mark the road suddenly drops away in a series of dramatic switchbacks, gripping tightly to the edges of near vertical rock towers, karstic eroded cliffs and canyons. It’s a shock and a treat after a long, curvy but fairly level drive from Granada. About 31km down the road is where the rugged trail into the Rio Verde begins – in the middle of spectacular lonely nowhere. This is where I discovered my own little Grand Canyon or Rivendell – depending on your movie tastes. It’s a place that could easily fill in for either, should you need an extra movie set and don’t want to exit Europe.
Clinging to the edge of some tight drop offs and precipices, the trail meanders through some surprisingly green, lush forest and wonderfully diverse Mediterranean bush, alive with birds and insects but, at least in winter, ridiculously free of humanity. On the weekend me and my wife headed there, we met only 2 other itinerant hikers on the 5 hour walk! In the summer this may be different, since the Rio Verde area is a spot renowned for its ‘canyoning’ potential.
The walk was pleasant at first, but in the first 20 minutes or so the views of the spiky vertical mountains remained more or less the same as those seen from the road. I felt a little disappointed to be honest. Turning a corner though, with the trail now heading south, the views plummeted into Canyons, drop-offs and great open vistas of the main peaks of the Sierra Tejeda. It just got better and better. It’s a totally wonderful, wild landscape. From some fantastic craggy viewpoints the trail begins to wind down into the Rio Verde river valley itself. The trail is sometimes very steep and in a small section, a length of ‘Via Ferrata’ style metal cable has been set up to help walkers navigate the steepest bits.
It’s a long decent into the valley and you know you’re gonna have to save your energy to navigate the return journey back up – but it’s all worth it. As you head down into the valley the sounds of water and the trickling Rio Verde become more pervasive, with waterfalls flowing down ancient walls in strange shapes, smoothing out the otherwise rough, spiky cliffs with continuous flows. Don’t expect Niagara – these are streams, not gargantuan torrents, but they’re lovely nonetheless. At the bottom of the canyon the walls and waterfalls rise up vertically around you and you have to cross the river, hopping over and around rock pools several times. The whole feeling of the place is beautifully remote and tranquil – as I said, a small personal Rivendell, only 30 minutes or so away from Granada.
Now wandering along the valley floor, swapping sides a few times where the trail crosses the river, other hidden ‘side canyons’ opened up, creating one stunning vista after the other. Finally, on the far right side of the river the path begins to gain height again, winding round some magnificent buttressed cliffs – the Canyon- and vistas widening by the footstep with vertical cliffs above and steep drops to the river below. The landscape was clothed in deep green forest and bush. Finally, distant to the south, is the tantalizing vista of the Mediterranean. It’s a sapphire gem at the end of a little-known corner of paradise.
Just before we stopped to have sandwiches and drink in the stunning vistas, we were surprised by an equally puzzled Ibex – looking quizzically at these strange beings that had wondered into his 3-D mountain home. He stood on the road, staring, his head slightly bent, before shuffling off the ‘road’ down a near vertical ravine below. I certainly didn’t have either the courage or the ability to follow him into his world. But sitting on a craggy outcrop I concluded that this would be a worthy place to set an epic John Wayne movie.
Looking below me I felt like an eagle soaring above my own little Grand Canyon – the Rio Verde. Now I just had to contemplate that long climb back up!!…..
