Albarracin

We are parked up 2 miles from Albarracin in the Serrania de Cuenca. The landscape is rolling hills with dark red sandstone cliffs and boulders intermingled around a sparse pine forest. The pine trees are of the large needle variety with huge pine cones that litter the floor with the lavender bushes giving the forest a pine and lavender scent. The snow which had covered the forest for the past few days is slowly disappearing and all around us in the sound of song birds, no other animal life is visible, but the numerous tracks around our van suggest a lot goes unseen at night whilst we’re sleeping.

During the week we are virtually undisturbed except for a few other climbers and the odd tourist bus which comes to see the Stone Age paintings in some of the caves. We’ve stopped to look at a few, although very hard to see when found they are of amazing detail and complexity and not the simple line drawing I expected.

The town of Alarracin is the epitome of Spanish Medieval heritage. Originally a tiny Islamic state from 1012 to 1104AD, then an independent Christian kingdom 1170 to 1285AD it sits nestled high on the cliffs, houses perched on top of each cliff, tiny cobbled streets and stairs with houses cascading above you. Towering city walls surround the town and brightly painted cathedral spires dominate the centre. Unusually for a Spanish town the centre is completely intact, nothing seems to suggest the encroachment of modern life except a few cars and the odd washing line. New buildings are kept away from the walled city and you feel as if you could be walking through a city as it was five hundred years ago.

Having spent a morning exploring Albarracin we are now enjoying the afternoon sun and quite of the forest. There is little else to do here, a bar in town is recommended for climbers in the evening and the local campsite has free internet, although rather un-sportingly our request to buy a shower was turned down as they are only for campers and we where then charged when we tried to fill up our 25ltr water container. We will return for the free internet, but won’t be recommending the campsite to anyone else.

The climbing is often on steep roofs and walls, using pockets, sharp edges and sloppers, often some of the holds feel very fragile under your grip and there are frequent scars in the rock where holds have snapped. The problems are often dynamic and very athletic, although the problems are first class the rock is not of the same quality as Font and is unlikely to last with the amount of traffic it currently gets. Often when your grip fails you get a puff of sand ripping off the rock, suggesting its fragile nature. You almost feel selfish enjoying a rock which you know future climbers will not be able to enjoy in the same way. But hopefully with respect from the locals it will last.

Boredom then Spain

Four weeks of sitting around being bored, can’t climb as wrist is injured, no money to go anywhere, just me, the laptop and the t.v. Relief was in the wings in the form of Yvette’s birthday present, a trip to Kalymnos. Only thanks to XL airways going bust this was canceled with a week to go. Luckily we were covered and we spun the dice and picked a new destination; Spain!

Rodellar Village, perched on top of the gorge

This was going to be Yvette’s climbing trip of the year and we flew into Barcelona, jumped into the smallest hire car available and started out tour. First stop Catalonia and the caves of Santa Ana and Santa Linya then Rodellar with its steep gorges and wildlife. Then finishing off doing the touristy thing in Taragon: so here we go, a few sound bites of Spain.

Architecture: Rolling hills, medieval fortified villages, all with their church spires watching for marauding Moors. Some with castles perched right at the top. But this is where it goes wrong. The Spanish aren’t very good with their planning regulations, often after hiking up to look at the imposing castle you find a nasty little red brick house stuck on the end and any deteriorating brick work daubed with cement. Rodellar was better, being in a national park they at least ensured all new buildings where built out of the local stone and came with traditional features.

Some of the Wildlife of Rodellar

Food: Spanish food is generally simple and easy to prepare, eating at the social clubs we gorged on deep fried squid and octopus, chorizo and other sausages, cheese and ham. Unfortunately if you’re on a budge this is often where it ends, after a few days of deep fried Squid, only to find on the fourth you have ordered it again because the new item on the menu was just Squid, but written in Catalonian, not Spanish.

Olive Groves of Catalonia

Tourists: Am pretty sure for the first stage of our holiday we were the only tourists the village of Castillonroy had ever seen. We had the Alberg all to ourselves and we met with blank stares from the locals. Although to be fair as soon as we appeared lost the redirected us to the interesting sights of the village.

Village of Catalonia

Student: How much is it to look around that bit of old ruin? The bad part of cities, you have to pay to see anything that is worth seeing. At least in the countryside it’s all free. I managed to get around this with my local mountaineering club card, which usefully doubles as a student card. At least it does if you are Spanish and can’t read much English.

Climbing: There is so much rock in Spain that needs climbing. All around Santa Linya are amazing cliffs, often we would have the whole crag to ourselves on some of the most perfect routes I have ever done. Rodellar is more, but much more popular, unfortunately this means a lot of the easier routes are polished. The hardest bit was often just getting off the ground. But new routes meant there was always something great to climb.

View from our Hotel in Taragon

Wildlife: No were else in Europe have I seen so much wildlife, Rodellar was packed with birds, butterflies and even a snake with coursed through the river after small fish. At times when you looked up you could see up to twelve vultures circling around the thermals, mostly Griffin Vultures, but, I am pretty sure I also saw a Golden eagle as it swooped over us.

Kenya Part One

Kenyans waiting patiently to vote

Yvette and I had arrived in Kenya on 26^th the day before the presidential and parliamentary elections for a 3 week safari and beach holiday. We had watched on the 27^th Kenyans queing around the clock to vote, listening to their reasons for voting for Kibaki or Raila. Then slowly watched the votes coming in, as we headed up to Samburu for the start of the safari Raila was clearly wining and as we left Samburu for Lake Baringo Kibaki’s loyal Kikuyu tribe had resigned themselves to him now being an ex-president.
At Lake Baringo things suddenly changed, Kibaki was suddenly announced President and sworn in even quicker, our Kikuyu guide went out to celebrate while the westerners in the camp discussed the audacity of the coup that Kibaki had pulled off. That night while we slept rioting started in the town some 500m from us and any Kikuyu found were being beaten.

Lake Baringo is famous for its birdlife, so we started the day with a boat tour then headed on to Lake Bogaria to see the flamingos and Geysers. We now left these lakes in the upper Rift Valley to head south to Nakuru for the next leg of the safari. Although before we hit the road a quick repair to minibus’s steering column had to be made, as the steering had failed.

Sun rise over Lake Baringo

The journey to Nakuru should only be a quick 2 hour drive down good roads and we were making good time. In the distance a large group of people stood on either side of the road. As we drove past things felt tense. Within another few miles we came across a second large group, this time partly across the road. A police Landrover with armed officers was on hand and although the atmosphere felt even tenser we drove through safely. Still further down the road we found another large group of men. This time they had completely closed off the road and there seemed to be no way to pass. A white truck, which had got through pulled up beside us and a group of 8 locals armed with bows, arrows and clubs got out of the back. Our driver spoke with their driver, I’m guessing about whether we could get through the road block ahead. Suddenly our driver accelerated the minibus away and the armed men jumped back. He threw our vehicle off the road to our left and u turned it to get back on the road. As I looked around I saw the men with their bows pulled back about to shoot. I pushed Yvette’s head down into the foot well and the arrows clattered into the outside of our vehicle.

Soon we were back on the road again and heading back towards the road blocks we had been through earlier, with the white truck with the armed gang chasing us. Fortunately the police Landover had progressed through the road blocks towards us and we pulled them over just up the road to report what had happened to us and left the armed police to deal with the white truck and its occupants. But, we still had 2 road blocks to get through. At the first road block they had been busy since we had passed through and as we drew closer saw large rocks being placed on the road. As we got closer any gaps were being hurriedly closed off. By the time we were a few hundred yards away and the entire road had been closed and the mob surrounding it was looking very hostile. At the last minute our driver saw a gap off road to the right and swerved the vehicle off, the mob ran at the vehicle and I looked around to see they carried stones. Once again Yvette and I ducked down into the foot well as stones smashed into the side of the minibus. This time they were better shots and one put a nice double brick sized rock through Yvette’s window covering us both in shards of glass. It had been another close escape. At the final road block which we had passed with ease earlier in the day, the mob still hadn’t quite sorted their act out and had only partially closed off the road; we easily found a route around and sped back to the campsite with earnest glances over our shoulders to check we weren’t being followed.