Sierra Nevada

An early start to day 2 despite the late night at La Buleria saw me having a quick wander around the Alhambra without going inside, that was for tomorrow. Then it was off to the Estacion di Autobus for a trip to the Sierra Nevada mountains. The road was narrow and winding, the bus big and wide but the scenery was spectacular. I got off at a pueblo named Pampaneira. There were two other villages further up but it was only 5 km between the 3 so it was a great uphill hike along another goat track.

Pampaneira is a very attractive pueblo with the typical Muslim architecture and narrow lanes. Apparently when these places were built there was a rule that the roads had to be able to allow for two way traffic, but back then traffic was donkeys. The next pueblo was Bubion which was similar to Pampaneira except with more spectacular views, and last was Capileira with had the same advantages over Bubion that Bubion had over Pampaneira. Between Bubion and Capileira I met some American tourists who were walking down rather than up, they were quite impressed that I did the reverse and had nearly made it to the top in only 50 minutes, I told them that Aussies walk up hill, ski uphill and mountain climb downhill head first without a rope; I'm not sure they believed me. Of course the great advantage to going downhill is that if you get tired you can just lie down and roll the rest of the way.

From Capileiri it was only another 2 km to the river that cut through the valley so me being me I gave that a go also, another goat track and if anyone is interested the rocks were sedimentary. On the way there were some stone huts that apparently served no purpose, they would of course make good accommodation for a lone traveller who could not help himself and continued to walk aimlessly without thought of how to get home.

Later at Capilieri I had about 2 hours for the bus so it was time to relax, the Pizzeria made me a sensational vegetarian pizza with cheese, tomato, capers, mushroom and artichoke. Unlike my experience in Australia, the artichokes were not preserved by pickling in vinegar so they did not put that vinegar taste on the pizza. The accompanying beer (of course) went down superbly with the pizza. The bus stop was only 100 metres away and conveniently next to a fresh water fountain that was fed from a mountain spring, it was a cheap way to refill my water bottle.

On these little and big trips I tend to get infected by ear worms that are appropriate at the time. On this occasion, and on the way up, it was the long and winding road, I suppose I was just lucky that I could not think of any song that described a bus rolling down the side of a mountain killing all the passengers because the driver was on a mobile phone. I really don't like people using their mobile phone when they are driving, it's worse when you have passengers, it's worse again when you have a bus load of passengers, and of course it is worse again when you are navigating the long and winding (and narrow) road.

The hostel had organised a flamenco guitarist to play in the common area that night with food and drink provided, of course high on the tappas menu was jamon (hamon but clear your throat when you say the H). As the only thing there that I could have was cheese I got a discount on the cost of the eveining, I so have to get one of these flamenco guitars (not to mention about 10 years solid practice). After the night was over myself an another Aussie chap whose name I forgot and did not write down (that's why I write everything down, my short term memory tends to be found wanting at times), went back to La Buleria. This time it was packed with locals and the number of performers that descended on the place was double the previous evening, they were playing inside in the bar and outside on the terrace. The locals sang along and danced leaving myself and my fellow Aussie to watch and feel a little inadequate. 3.00 am and the locals were still going strong but the foreigners were not. It was time to go, the next day was a busy one.