Cabo del Gato
In the late summer of 2008 I drove to Cabo de Gata near Almaría. I had heard that the sea there was good for snorkelling. When I was married I had always liked to snorkel in Tenerife, where the sea is clear and you can see for ten or fifteen metres. The sea quality at Conil de la Frontera, my other favourite place, is unpredictable, sometimes clear, sometimes murky.
I had not seen the inland mountains of southern Spain and the route I chose would take me through them. If you remember the painting I did of the Sierra Nevada after a spring snowfall, then the contrast of the Sierra Nevada after the heat of the summer will be striking.
My route took me past Granada on the motorway, curving north of the Sierra Nevada. I was in a hurry to see the coast before the weather changed to Autumn and the rains arrived, so I did not make many stops on the way there. The return journey would be a different story.
I arrived at a little village called Cabo de Gata the edge of the National Park east of Almaría. Because it was out of season the beach was deserted The hotels were closed, as were the campsites The only food was from the bars in the village where they served local Spanish food, with which I no problem. My little companion and I slept in the car, where we had the benefit of air conditioning or central heating on request. We had a car stereo system and all our favourite music. The boot was full of wine or beer and the moon was rising over a wine dark sea. The stars above us were like an insight into the whole universe.
After all those years working in the factories I was at last free, sitting listening to the waves breaking on a beach which had never known frost. The most amazing thing was the number of people doing the same thing as me. The beach road was full of motor homes
The next day we began to explore. There is an old military outpost along the beach with the signs proclaiming Torre de Guardia Civil. This would be from The Franco years when the beaches were patrolled and shipping watched. Apart from this one dark relic of a nightmare past, the beach was bright and sunny, the sea clear and warm.
From the coast road at Cabo de Gata you can walk along the beach to the lighthouse on the Cabo. The road winds up the hillside to the lighthouse.
It then passes along the coast to the headland beyond where there are only rough tracks for cars, but good walking tracks along the coast. We walked perhaps five kilometres along the coast, which is very rough and mostly volcanic in origin. Eventually stopping at a beach of milk chocolate brown igneous sand in a little cove. From my little rucksack I pulled out my facemask and snorkel and put on my swimming trunks. My little canine friend was not too happy about being left on the beach alone.
The water was crystal clear. I could see for five or ten metres. I swam along the two or three metre contour following the fish as they scoured the sand for food. Whilst I was watching what was going on two metres below me, a shoal of fish 30cm long, but pencil thin swam within a metre of my eyes without the slightest concern. There must have been a hundred of them. As I swam nearer to the beach I saw a rock maybe 30cm. in diameter which seemed to have fingers. Not only fingers, but eyes popped up over the rock. I was looking at a squid that was looking at me from behind the rock. I stopped breathing and hung still in the water. The squid looked at me for maybe thirty seconds and then shot away at speed.
I don't know all the species of fish that live along this coast, but I would guess that I saw ten or fifteen different kinds in the few days I was there. In all I had three days of swimming from these beaches until the weather cooled and a different wind brought a stronger sea.
I found a beautiful pueblo called San Pedro with a harbour and beach. Of all the places I visited, this was my favourite. I would love to spend a summer there. Maybe one day....
I began to think about the return trip to Cadiz province. But this time I would take my time and sightsee. Once I had passed Almería on the A92 I climbed into the highlands to where the N340 turns off to Tabernas, which is famous for the films that were made there or in the countryside nearby. Almería is a semi desert and the constant clear skies mean uninterrupted filming.
There is a theme park just off the A92 on the N340 which uses the old scenery props from films to put on mock western gunfights as entertainment. Unfortunately it was closed on the day I passed. I climbed a nearby hill to have a look down into the fake town and have a look around at the surrounding countryside.
It really is a desolate place.
The list of films made here and stars that have been in them over the last six decades is impressive. Peter O’Tool, in Lawrence of Arabia, Richard Burton and Liz Taylor in Cleopatra, Harrison Ford and Sean Connery in Indiana Jones and the last Crusade, Of a different genre: Arnold Schwarzenegger in Conan the Barbarian, as well as many Spanish films largely unknown outside of Spain. In all 171 westerns were shot here, by far the biggest percentage, with 62 adventure films, 60 dramas, 37 comedies, and 17 war films.
In the 60’s a young American actor was offered work on a string of seedy looking westerns the first of which was being filmed near Tabernas. His friends told him this would be a bad step. (In Spanish, mal paso.) After the films were finished and Clint Eastwood had become a huge star he called his own film company Malpaso. Clint, Lee Van Cleef and the haunting music of Ennio Morricone had put Almaría and Tabernas on the world stage forever with just one film. A fistfull of dollars. The rest is history.
In the late summer of 2008 I drove to Cabo de Gata near Almaría. I had heard that the sea there was good for snorkelling. When I was married I had always liked to snorkel in Tenerife, where the sea is clear and you can see for ten or fifteen metres. The sea quality at Conil de la Frontera, my other favourite place, is unpredictable, sometimes clear, sometimes murky.
I had not seen the inland mountains of southern Spain and the route I chose would take me through them. If you remember the painting I did of the Sierra Nevada after a spring snowfall, then the contrast of the Sierra Nevada after the heat of the summer will be striking.
My route took me past Granada on the motorway, curving north of the Sierra Nevada. I was in a hurry to see the coast before the weather changed to Autumn and the rains arrived, so I did not make many stops on the way there. The return journey would be a different story.
I arrived at a little village called Cabo de Gata the edge of the National Park east of Almaría. Because it was out of season the beach was deserted The hotels were closed, as were the campsites The only food was from the bars in the village where they served local Spanish food, with which I no problem. My little companion and I slept in the car, where we had the benefit of air conditioning or central heating on request. We had a car stereo system and all our favourite music. The boot was full of wine or beer and the moon was rising over a wine dark sea. The stars above us were like an insight into the whole universe.
After all those years working in the factories I was at last free, sitting listening to the waves breaking on a beach which had never known frost. The most amazing thing was the number of people doing the same thing as me. The beach road was full of motor homes
The next day we began to explore. There is an old military outpost along the beach with the signs proclaiming Torre de Guardia Civil. This would be from The Franco years when the beaches were patrolled and shipping watched. Apart from this one dark relic of a nightmare past, the beach was bright and sunny, the sea clear and warm.
From the coast road at Cabo de Gata you can walk along the beach to the lighthouse on the Cabo. The road winds up the hillside to the lighthouse.
The water was crystal clear. I could see for five or ten metres. I swam along the two or three metre contour following the fish as they scoured the sand for food. Whilst I was watching what was going on two metres below me, a shoal of fish 30cm long, but pencil thin swam within a metre of my eyes without the slightest concern. There must have been a hundred of them. As I swam nearer to the beach I saw a rock maybe 30cm. in diameter which seemed to have fingers. Not only fingers, but eyes popped up over the rock. I was looking at a squid that was looking at me from behind the rock. I stopped breathing and hung still in the water. The squid looked at me for maybe thirty seconds and then shot away at speed.
I don't know all the species of fish that live along this coast, but I would guess that I saw ten or fifteen different kinds in the few days I was there. In all I had three days of swimming from these beaches until the weather cooled and a different wind brought a stronger sea.
I found a beautiful pueblo called San Pedro with a harbour and beach. Of all the places I visited, this was my favourite. I would love to spend a summer there. Maybe one day....
There is a theme park just off the A92 on the N340 which uses the old scenery props from films to put on mock western gunfights as entertainment. Unfortunately it was closed on the day I passed. I climbed a nearby hill to have a look down into the fake town and have a look around at the surrounding countryside.
In the 60’s a young American actor was offered work on a string of seedy looking westerns the first of which was being filmed near Tabernas. His friends told him this would be a bad step. (In Spanish, mal paso.) After the films were finished and Clint Eastwood had become a huge star he called his own film company Malpaso. Clint, Lee Van Cleef and the haunting music of Ennio Morricone had put Almaría and Tabernas on the world stage forever with just one film. A fistfull of dollars. The rest is history.
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