Flanked by the northern foothills of the Sierra de Gador and the
southern slopes of the Sierra Nevada, the area around this long section
of meandering road is home to more than 50 villages that became the
final fragments of the Spanish Muslim dynasty. They comprised of the
many who refused to convert to Christianity, choosing instead to take to
the hills and settling in remote inaccessible areas.
Despite
the planned resettlement amongst the villages of the region, of some
12,000 Christian families from the north of Spain, they have retained
their distinctive Berber architecture of terraced white-box houses and
flat, clay roofs, still synonymous with dwellings in the mountains of
Morocco.
*****
A
more intended climb and well worth experiencing was the Calar Alto,
located approximately 30 kilometres from Instincion. Requiring a
considerable detour, one I'd pay for much later in the day, it's located
in the north-western edge of the Desierto de Tabernas, the only true semi-desert on the European continent.
The Calar Alto
has been climbed in the Vuelta on three occasions, in 2004, 2006 and
2009, each time from Gergal and on each occasion finishing at the the
white-domed astronomical observatory on its summit. But supposedly more
encapsulating is the mountain's western route, via the white-walled
village of Aulago. A 30 kilometre climb to a height above 2,100 metres,
the attraction of this side is the changing landscape-should you be
patient enough to persist over its 4.7% gradient-and its sheer
isolation. A world away from the crowded slopes and summits of the likes
of Mont Ventoux and Passo dello Stelvio, there's more chance of meeting an observatory employee on top of the Calar Alto than another cyclist.
Steadily
uphill, with just the rare short ramp to look forward to along the way,
it's not the gradient that makes this climb so difficult but the
searing heat (often in excess of 35 degrees) and the absence of any
shade whatsoever until you're almost halfway.
Our accommodation at the Hotel Kabila, Instincion. |
Following the fatigue of almost two hours of
climbing, the final seven kilometres to the summit offers some reprieve
at last. The depressingly uninterrupted views of the steepness ahead
eventually give rise to more gentle twists and turns in the road, thinly
lined with low pines. With the benefit of some shade and the
white-domed observatory making ever-closer appearances the nearer you
get to the top, you might even finally begin to feel justified that it
was worth the indulgence after all.
Before heading down
the mountain towards the village of Seron, and a long way beyond it,
our overnight stay in Cuevas del Almonzora, I momentarily absorbed the
panoramic views from the summit. Still prominent to the south-west were
the peaks of the Sierra Nevada and perhaps even further, if I used my
imagination, views to the north as far as Madrid.
Reluctantly
drawing myself away from what could have been the quietest place on
earth, I felt mildly bemused that I hadn't yet seen a solitary person or
vehicle on my time on the mountain, let alone another cyclist; and
nothing was about to change during the next hour of riding, virtually
until I reached the busy A-334.
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