In which I walk 15 kilometers through the desert, skinny dip in the Mediterranean, and eat the biggest dinner of my entire life…

Travel is stressful.  I dislike packing, I dislike airports, I dislike the fact that you can’t stretch out in the business-class section of an airplane, and I especially dislike travelling overnight.  My flight to Spain was an overnight one, in business-class, and I spent more time in airports than I would have liked because my connection from Madrid to Málaga was delayed 4 hours.  The most sleep I got was for 15 minutes on a metal bench in the airport in Madrid, at what would be 5 am EST, and what still was EST according to my body.  Another thing I dislike: time changes.  Needless to say, I was completely exhausted by the time I arrived in Málaga, and I was only one of nearly 120 other equally-exhausted, bewildered students.  IES (our study abroad program) took this time zone-adjustment problem into its own hands in the following manner: an early bus-ride to the Mediterranean coast, a 15 kilometer hike through the desert without shade, a few good, salty swims in the sea followed by more walking, a gigantic dinner, and then another 2-hour bus-ride back to Granada, after which time students had to trek home across the city past midnight.  The strategy, as I see it, was along the lines of: “If we get them utterly exhausted, there’s no reason they won’t be able to sleep well on a Spanish schedule.”

Therefore, on the third day after we arrived in Granada, 120 time zone-shocked American college students went to Cabo de Gata.

Cabo de Gata is a protected nature reserve on the peninsula at the most southeastern point of the Iberian Peninsula, a 2-hour drive southeast of Granada.  It is a rocky, mountainous desert environment formed by now-dormant volcanoes right on the Mediterranean coast.  The same volcanic mountain range stretches southward under-water and into Morocco.  The park itself contains many species of specialized desert plants that are only found in that particular region, including the only native European cactus.

It is here that the currents from the Atlantic Ocean entering through the Strait of Gibraltar (further to the west) collide with the Mediterranean currents and make sailing difficult and dangerous.  Cabo de Gata, for the ancient Greeks and others, therefore represented the edge of the known world.  The Greeks considered the area to be the entrance to Hades, and the dangerous rocks you see below were supposedly inhabited by dangerous mythological creatures including sea monsters, and the sirens and Sycylla and Charybdis of the Odyssey.

We left Granada early in the morning on two buses, driving up through the mountains on the windiest road I’ve been on since Bolivia.  Almost immediately before getting on the bus, I had chugged a mug-full of hot café con leche.  Not a good choice.  The views were, nonetheless, very beautiful.  I have never seen so many miles of olive trees in my life (actually, I had never seen even one olive tree before, but that’s not the point).  When we arrived in Almería (a town nearby Cabo de Gata) we picked up our guides and divided into small groups of about 20 students.  Our hike began literally right on the coast of the sea – we climbed over rocks, walked through the water where we could not – as our guide, Rafa, explained to us the geological history and the mythology associated with the area.  We then started climbing up, into the dry hills, which had some absolutely amazing views.

It was a long, hot hike.  There are no trees anywhere, and very few rocks or cliffs large enough to give much shade.  All of us burned at least somewhat, and we used up drinking water quite quickly.  At about 2 in the afternoon (Spanish lunch and siesta time), we stopped for an hour or so at a beach to eat and swim.  The water was a beautiful light, cloudy blue – and warm like a bathtub.  We then regrouped and continued walking, up and down hills.  We stopped twice more at beaches to swim.  They were clothing-optional – a fact that, after a few minutes of shock, was quite inspiring.  I can now cross off my list of things to do in life (which I have never actually had, and if I did I don’t think this particular point would be on there) “skinny dip in the Mediterranean” right here:

In the late afternoon, we walked to the other side of this bay:

… to a small town called San José, where there was a restaurant run by a single Italian family that IES had reserved for us.  No one in the family spoke Spanish very well, so the tri-lingual negotiation that went on between the students and waiters was a bit like a game of charades.  This is what San José looks like:

We took over the entire space and tables from the back had to be brought out and put on the sidewalk.  They were expecting us, with an enormous dinner waiting.  For each table of about 6 people they brought out liters and liters and liters of water (we were all dehydrated); then liters and liters of orange soda; then liters and liters of coca-cola; then liters and liters of beer; then salad; then 3 different kinds of lasagna; then grilled vegetables; then a pizza.  Then another pizza.  And another.  And another.  After 2 hours, they were still bringing out food.  By the time we were on the third or fourth pizza, no one could eat another bite, but they kept bringing more – another pizza, half a chicken with a pile of potatoes and roasted vegetables, and more beer.  While we were contemplating the incredible quantity of food that we could not possibly eat and discussing what we should do, the imposing-looking matriarch of the family – who was also the boss of the business – wandered around the restaurant, looking disapprovingly at us and the uneaten food, angrily insisting that we eat more with two well-delivered words: “¡¡¡la pizza!!!”  We were there for a total of 3 hours – undoubtedly the longest and biggest meal of my life, including Thanksgiving.

We were sore, sunburnt, covered in salt and sand, and stuffed full; our exhaustion was almost complete.  So we got back on the bus to go back to Granada, arriving in the city past midnight, and then walked back to our homestays – Emily’s and mine was a half hour away, across the city.  We had classes the next day at 9:00 am, but if I am correct about the strategy behind the trip, our IES directors planned well – I don’t think I’ve ever slept so soundly.

The hectic pace of the first two weeks here has slowed down a bit and the seasonal fall rain has begun in Granada, so I will soon be writing about many more adventures!  Let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to hear about!