Heads under or it doesn't count - New Years Eve Swims

Went on another little mission to find a New Year's Eve swimming spot today. It was still pretty windy, so checked the map and forecast, to work out where the best places might be. Opted for the secluded beach of Canuelo.

About a kilometer along a small track led us to the beautiful empty beach. It was sheltered from the wind, but the slight swell was pushing up some waves onto the beach, making it less inviting for a swim.

Beautiful place for a walk along the edge of the water though...

Back near the car, we found a climbing wall - made from rocks that had been glued onto a concrete wall!

We also found the access path down to the beach beyond the headland that looked like it should be sheltered from the wind and waves. Some steep steps led down by the cliffs, to the perfect swimming spot! Our luck was in at last after wanting to swim for the last three days.

And the water was warm(ish). At least it was warm once you got out - ait temps were around 21 degrees and the water was only slightly less at 18.

Clare was first in and dived straight into the crystal clear water - we have an unwritten rule that if you don't get your head under the water, it doesn't count as an official 'swim'.

I took a bit longer as well as some coaxing, but managed to fit the swim criteria in the end! Although it felt bracing, it was warm enough to dry off in the sun without needing a towel. Lovely.

Above the beach, there also happened to be a small cliff with some recorded rock climbs on it - naturally, we went to investigate...

It involved an easy, yet adventurous approach.

The rock was baking in the afternoon sun and glowing an orange colour - the only problem was that the bolts had all been removed!

We retreated and went around to explore the other side of the buttress, which happened to also have a  few routes on it.

They were only short, but we decided we should do our final route of the year - of the decade in fact!

It was very steep, with small crimpy holds, meaning that even though it was a short climb, I finished the year completely pumped! Ha Ha!

Afterward, we just had time to get back down to the water's edge to watch the sunset, which was fabulous.

Once it had dipped below the horizon, we took a seat at the only open bar on the beach (and possibly in the entire town) of Zahara and had coffee and wine while the skyline glowed orange and the moon began to shine. Saw the new year in on the rooftop of the apartment in Facinas where all was quiet. 

Happy New Year!

Tarifa - City of the Wind

Our last chance for a surf today and although we already knew it would be too windy, we went down to the beaches of Tarifa just to be sure...

Again, it was another delightfully bright day, but the wind was way too strong.

But on the plus side, we got to explore around Tarifa and watch some inspirationally amazing kite surfers.

After watching a few windsurfers doing 360 degree flips on the windward side of the bay, we settled into a more sheltered beachside cafe, where we had prime viewing position for the kite surfers who were doing incredible tricks. One guy was in the air for a whopping twelve seconds, which must have felt like an eternity.

The town is the most southerly point of mainland Europe and the mountains of Morocco were clear to see on the other side of the Straits of Gibraltar. 

The power of the waves and weather was evident all around. The council had an emergency team of workers on the street behind the cafe, shoveling sand off the road as it was accumulating fast and building small dunes across the one-way system. I found and smashed up surfboard on the rocks, while a diver with speargun emerged from the water.

Check out how high the kite surfers were jumping/being dragged up into the sky! Amazing!

In between the new town are remnants of an older era...

We left town after lunch, waved goodbye to Africa and the Straits and went up into the hills to go for a rock climb.

It was just as windy up at the cliffs and Clare had a bit of drama clinging on through a particularly ferocious gust. She was trying to clip a long extender that I had placed when I led the route, but when she got there she could not reach it as it was blowing out horizontally and out of reach. She had to tuck in and hang on until the gusts receded and the clip dropped back down with gravity.

The crag had a mixture of old and new bolts that were in a mixture of good and terrible conditions. Thankfully I didn't have to clip this old rusty one:

Or this new one which seemed to have worn through and been snapped off!

With enough windswept-ness for another day, we set back off home...

San Bartolo - Zona de Arriba - Cernicalos: (15m)

- Banana Split, 5b** (two bad bolds at the top)

- Parpujita, 4b**

- El Eterno asegurador, 4b**

Searching for Claudia's Baths

The initial plan was to go surfing on this Atlantic stretch of wild coastline. But as is the way with planning any surf trip, unfortunately, you can't pre-order the conditions. Slightly frustratingly, the conditions had been great last week. We almost had everything we needed. We still had the blue skies, warm temperatures, a nice swell, and an off-shore wind. All sounds good on paper. However, the slight snag is that the offshore wind was pretty much gale force! We could barely stand up on the beach, let alone catch a wave. The windsurfers had got the dream conditions, but staying on dry land seemed the only sensible option for us today. 

About three kilometers along the coast from the small town of Bolinia, is an area called Playa los Banos Claudia - Claudia's Bath; a natural swimming pool by the sea. It seemed a worthy objective as surfing was firmly out of the question. We set off into the strong headwind...

The coastline is beautiful here - no waterside hotels or developments at all - just rugged coastline.

Leaving the windsurfers behind at Bolinia, we literally fought our way south into the wind. The beaches here were deserted - and for good reason. The sand was whipping along the beach, sandblasting my bare ankles. We pressed on, sometimes on the sand by the water's edge and sometimes, higher up on the coastal footpath.

After almost turning back a few times, we made it to our destination.

The geology is fantastic here, with lines of weirdly eroded sandstone created some sheltered pools (or indeed baths).

Looking at the photos now, from the comfort of the sofa, it seems incredulous that we didn't get in for a swim. It looks so inviting.

But if you look closely at this next photo, you can see the spray from the constant crashing waves blowing over the pool. We were well wrapped off and although we did dip our feet in, felt no desire to take off our clothes in the gale!

After a token paddle, we walked back to the village, this time with a much more pleasant way, with our backs to the wind and airborne sand.

On the way back to the house, we stopped off again at the crags of San Bartolo and enjoyed a couple of pitches of climbing on the blissfully sheltered side of the crag. By the time we got home (via a trip to Tarifa to find an open Supermarket - we'd forgotten that it was Sunday where all the shops are generally shut), we got inside and finally out of the wind. It felt like a bit of a relief to not have the wind blowing around us...

San Bartolo - Zona de Arriba:

- Esto si que no es seis a, 5b**

- Harry el fuerte, 5c**

Spanish Gritstone - Climbing at San Bartolo (and the drama of Spanish Accommodation)

When you're away from home as much as we are, it's no surprise that we've slept through a full range of accommodation experiences. Some good, others less so. I don't know what it is about Spain, or more particularly, Spain at New Year, but of the three trips I've had here over the years, during the festive period, all have involved some sort of accommodation drama; this year has been no exception. Easy to look back on now on a relaxing walk across a deserted beach, but not at the time.... 

The first Spanish New Year experience was many years ago at Siurana - an excellent rock climbing venue in North-East Spain. Having returned from a fine day on the cliffs to our less than salubrious Hostel, we found that the New Years' eve party was already in full flow in the bar. Upstairs, however, things were not so cheery, as we discovered that our bags had been moved from our room and into the dirty corridor. I still to this day don't exactly know the reason, but the gist seemed to be that the owner had re-let the room to a bigger group who had just turned up during the day and were willing to pay more than us for the room. This was pre-google days and unable to converse in Spanish, we were out on the streets with no bed for the night. 

We returned back to the climbing area, where there were some climbers camped up by the Refugio. By chance, we'd met a friend of a friend at the crag a few days before, who said he was staying there. On arrival, the guardian made an apologetic face and shrugged her shoulders as the Refugio was already full. By now it was dark and very cold, but we were saved from a homeless New Years' Eve, by Rob (the friend of a friend), who did some negotiating on our behalf. We were stood on the porch considering our limited options when the guardian returned holding two karrimats and gestured that there was room for us to sleep - on the floor underneath the big bunk beds in the dormitory! It seemed like pure luxury compared to the cold cramped interior of our hired Fiat 500.

Episode two was about 5 years ago in Tenerife when we were first dabbling with AirBnB. On arrival at our apartment in a remote farmstead on New Years Eve, we found a party of old folk in full flow in the courtyard. After some confusion about who we were and who was the owner, the lady in question denied all knowledge of our booking - even though I was holding a print out of a confirmation email sent from her, with her photo in the top right corner! It wasn't really worth arguing much though, as the place was filthy and generally pretty gross, so we got out of there as fast as we could - but not before asking for a recommendation of another local place to stay. A sketch map was drawn and we beat a retreat from the strange little compound that we'd unwittingly booked into (or not).

Arriving at the suggested apartment block, all was locked and deserted, except a beer drinking man on the upper balcony. He was German, so using my best schoolboy language skills, (Miss Walsh would have been proud), I explained our plight. Before we knew it, the man was on his phone making some calls. Ten minutes later the owner arrived with a key. The place was not ready for guests, but by now, further inquisitive neighbours had arrived and set about helping us out. Someone provided bedsheets and set about making the bed, another lady got the tv working and went to great lengths to show us how to choose a channel, while another produced oranges and lemons in a bowl for us along with fresh towels. Such kindness, with very little shared language!

This year, the now traditional Spanish New Years faff, began at this apartment in Barbate. The photos were as promised, and as I've previously mentioned, the view was great. However, the listing neglected to mention that the balcony is above the main area of bars and clubs on the promenade. Below us, hundreds of happy Spaniards were congregated, drinking, singing and trying to chat over the thumping music that was blaring from each bar. Even with the windows shut and the blinds down, the noise was so loud that we couldn't hear the music from our own stereo! We booked a new apartment that night and checked out in the morning. To be fair, the music did stop and things did quieten down when the bars closed up, but this wasn't until 03:40am. We'd decided that we'd just have to take the hit, move on and pay for the new place. However, in the morning, AirBnB came good for us, with some excellent customer service. A guy called John phoned to say that he was sorry to hear we were having a bad time, so would confirm our next booking and refund us our money from this place. He then went the extra mile and said that it was going to take about half an hour to contact the new host and sort things with the current one, so recommended that we pack up, go and buy brunch in a nice cafe (on AirBnB) and relax while he took care of things. So we did (pic above).

Then, as promised, the new pad was confirmed, monies refunded and a time set to pick up the new key. Incredible service. The new place is a short drive away and much closer to the climbing as well as Tarifa, where we hoped to surf, so better in every way. And very quiet and cheaper too! It's a really old village and full of friendly locals. When I say old, I mean it - this was the traffic situation when we arrived!

Once all the drama had been resolved, we took ourselves off to sample some of the nearby climbing. It was brilliant! The routes were a bit short, but the rock and bolts were excellent and all in the sun. Hoorah!

The rock type here is different - a type of Sandstone. It felt similar to the gritstone of the Peak District, just much warmer and with bolted protection! Maybe it was just that we needed to get used to the new style of climbing - lots of under clings and smears for your feet - but I felt the grades were also a bit harsh? It was all super enjoyable though and a world away from the morning's drama.

The bolts were all shiny and new, but there were still traces of older times - I found an old screw placed into one crack!

The climbs were all great and the views extensive - the hassle of the morning had faded away and could now be laughed about.

From the top of the cliffs, we could see Morocco in the distance across the Straits of Gibraltar.

In the evening, we walked up into the village and got some fruit and veg from a very friendly old lady in the village shop. She had a cash box, not a till and added all the items up by hand using a pen a paper. What with the mule riders and robed villagers from earlier, it felt like another era entirely. 

However, some of the 'old desert/bible' dress code was explained later, when we chanced upon the village fete - a full-scale nativity play was on, complete with live animals, three splendidly attired Kings and Mary and Joseph in the Stables. There was singing, dancing, guitars, local foods, and a really lovely community feel - it couldn't be more contrasting from the blank faces of the coast this morning.

We slept very, very well.....

San Bartolo - Zona de Arriba - Sector El Cancho:

- Rianxeira hey, 6a

- Variante Rianxeira, 4c**

- Pinky Route, 5a***

- Dulce Belen, 5c

- Tripitite, 5c**