Spain's Mediterranean coastline is about 750 miles long. Most of it is highly developed, a semi-urbanised sprawl interspersed with spectacular headlands or salt flats with a mountainous backdrop. Human culture prevails, only here and there has the natural environment been afforded a measure of protection from economic development. Most protected areas are quite small, such as Monte de las Cenizas y Peña del Águila Regional Park east of Cartegena or Acantilados de Maro-Cerro Gordo near Nerja. Both are beautiful but are patches of wildness rather than an extensive protected area like a National Park or AONB in the UK.
Undeveloped coastlines are rare among Spain's 'costas' but there are a few places where it is still possible to get a sense of being 'lost in nature'. The Catalan coast from Port Bou at the French border and around the Bay of Roses is not completely over-developed. Also the coastal path running from Lloret de Mar to Tossa de Mar feels 'far from the madding crowd'. South of Peniscola Parc Natural de la Serra d'Irta is an extensive tract of hilly garrigue stretching 10kms along the pristine coastline. There's one campsite in the middle of the park down a rough track. Sadly it's not quite far enough south to be comfortable in February.
However by far the biggest protected area on Spain's Mediterranean coast is the Cabo de Gata west of Almeria. The area's unique geology has led to it being designated as a UNESCO Geopark. The rugged volcanic hills made agriculture challenging so it remained sparsely populated for centuries. Even today there is only one settlement that could be considered big enough to be a town - San José.
Development within the park is strictly controlled. Up until recently in the winter months there was only one campsite open at Los Escullos. A couple of years ago the Wecamp chain opened another at Las Negras. Both are well situated to explore the Cabo de Gata's unique landscape.
Los Escullos campsite was crowded, yet within a couple of minutes we could wander up a track and feel immersed in nature amid a stony garrigue carpeted with yellow flowers.
Gill recognised the buttercup sized one - Cape Sorrel. The smaller one we weren't sure about. In late winter this landscape always blooms with herbs and flowers, but we've never seen such a spectacular display as today. I suspect Iberia's stormy January has soaked the usually arid Cabo de Gata creating the sea of yellow.
It's a magnificent, uplifting landscape - a soulful place. We need them these days as the world grows ever more uncertain and evil men prevail.
Next day we unloaded the bikes and pedalled down to the shore. It's less than ten minutes away. Coastal erosion had uncovered the layers of the Capo de Gata's complicated geological history. The bedrock is volcanic, laid down in a shallow sea between 9 - 15 million years ago. There followed a further period of intense eruptions that formed the chain of caldera and volcanic plugs we can see now. The last eruptions are thought to be 5 million years ago.
Down by the shore the strata of the low cliffs reveal the remnants of other geological ages. A layer of oolitic limestone...
Fossilized dunes, wind sculpted into surreal forms over millennia, lie behind the shingle beach.
Whereas most European landscapes tell the story of humanity the narrative here is dominated by the inexorable progress of geological time. The dark volcanic hills of Los Escullos assert that life on our home planet prevailed long before we arrived and will continue to do so long after we have gone.
What makes humans unique is, as far as we know, we are the only thinking beings that exist right now. Killing each other and deliberately making Earth less habitable for our species does bring into question just how intelligent we actually are! Professor Brian Cox makes the point better than I ever could.
The scrub land behind the beach was covered with the same mix of yellow flowers that we found on the lower slopes of the hills yesterday. We've been here before in mid-February. Spring flowers are not unusual, but previously they've been more mixed. I came across a patch of asphodels on a rocky outcrop amongst the sea of yellow.
This pleased me. Asphodels are one of my favourite flowers, not only are they beautiful but their name is pleasing and they have mythical connotations.
On our final day we decided to pedal to the small fishing village of La Isleta del Moro. As the crow flies it's only about two kilometres across the bay. By road it's about three times the distance. Hardly challenging, but there are a couple of steep climbs, and though it was windless in the campsite on the exposed coast road we were buffeted by a chilly wind blowing in from the northeast.
While we mooched around the quayside the wind strengthened from an annoying breeze to a near gale. Struggling against it on our return, I ended up having to pedal downhill!
Checking back it seems we first stayed in Los Escullos twelve years ago. I remarked back then that it was a quiet place that attracted hikers. There's still a few of them striding off, walking poles in hand, to explore one of the many trails that snake between the gaunt calderas. However these days the site is pitched to attract long stayers, more caravanners than motorhomers. It means there aren't so many pitches left for people touring. Moreover the access roads between the pitches are narrow so manoeuvring into them can be challenging even in a medium sized motorhome.
If you do book in for the duration - I overheard an English caravanner a few pitches down from us explaining that he was here for 60 days 'as usual' - then there's lots of organised activities - Fish and Chips every Thursday night, a weekly quiz night, 'gentle aerobics'... and so on. Sixty days! It sounds like a sentence! If we do return again to the Cabo de Gata then the site at Las Negras is more to our taste. Los Escullos has become charmless as Saga cruise. Such a beautiful place, but the campsite is crowded, over- organised, and its ambience somewhat geriatric.
'
No comments:
Post a Comment