February hikes in New Zealand

I booked a place to walk the Heaphy Track and the Old Ghost Road at the top of the South Island, with a short hike that I hoped would work out to fill the days in between.

14 February I got the shuttle bus to the start of the Heaphy Track by Brown River in Kahurangi national park. After only 5 minutes walking I stopped at Brown hut to make coffee. The day's walk was all gradual climbing in the forest, nice on this hot day, ferny and green, cabbage palms, beech. Good window views as I climbed high above the river looking towards the Mt Olympus massif. The trail crossed several flowing streams and I stopped by one at the half way point.

I stopped again at Aorere shelter (a robin for company) and soon after reached the high point of the trail, Flanagans Corner (915 m); nearby was a fabulous lookout over the mountains.

It wasn't far to Perry's Saddle hut/campsite (wekas hanging around). Lots of sandflies. 

I had a break then embarked on the climb up Mt Perry; it was nice to walk without my pack but this wasn't the easy stroll I was expecting. After a stretch in goblin forest I had a narrow overgrown path then loose scree and finally big rocky chunks, but it was great at the top (1238 m) with so many tree covered mountains in every direction, the coast and the hut a dot far below.

The descent wasn't too bad. Still and starry night. 20 kms

15 February Soon I was on the very beautiful Gouland Downs, an area of reddish tussock grass, flax, low manuka and heather hemmed in by mountains. Several wide bridged creeks. Robins and wekas. I had coffee at the hut and went on into forest for slight climb to Saxon hut for another coffee. Little swallows. No takahe. 

Another climb in forest: ferns, cabbage palms and beech with nice little creeks but no views for ages, then patches of the golden tussock and boardwalk (reminiscent of Tasmania south coast track). Clouds came and a few drops of rain. There was a stretch with huge boulders. 

I descended towards Mackay hut/campsite, the vegetation changing. From the veranda I could see all the way down the valley to the Heaphy River mouth, tomorrow's destination, and to the south a long mountain range. The wekas came right up to my tent. 24 kms

16 February A prolonged downhill in the forest, really peaceful and quiet. After a couple of hours there was suddenly a series of amazing views of the Heaphy River with its gravelly shores far below and mountains beyond.

The trail came down to Lewis shelter overlooking the river. 

Then a pair of suspension bridges across the Lewis and Heaphy rivers and a huge old rata tree on each side of the second bridge. The trail was beside the river, not always in sight, and crossed other minor rivers. There were plenty of wekas in the forest scavenging around and masses of nikau palms (a falling frond made a big din). The trees came to the edge of my bank of the river but on the other side were white pebbly beaches. I saw a rare blue duck (whio). The river widened. Near the end I saw a couple sitting by a creek and they said there was a cave there; I walked through the creek water inside a low limestone cave that appeared to stretch back a long way, dripping, rocky floor and stalactites. I ate lunch by the creek.

Heaphy hut/campsite was on the estuary with a wide sandy beach full of washed up driftwood; the hillsides covered with nikau palms gave the impression of being on a South Sea island. It was hot and while it was windy the sandflies were bearable - until I went to the beach to watch the sun set over the ocean. Good sunset. Great to hear the surf in the night. 20 kms

17 February I went along the track to Heaphy Beach, long wide expanse of sand, and walked along the beach, lucky to find a way back to the trail because the beach was backed by dense flax.

Then I stayed on the winding trail through the nikau palms passing the most beautiful beaches

and crossing headlands, could see headlands all the way down the coast. Every hillside was covered with lush podocarp and palms.

After a stop at Katipo shelter (wekas) I continued through this wonderful scenery, the trail now undulating high above the beaches and crossing several waterfall type creeks on swing bridges. There was a great view over long Scotts beach from Crayfish Point

then a descent to the beach and a climb to a lookout, where I had lunch. 

I descended to Kohaihai Creek for a final swing bridge, climbed a very steep path to a lookout over Kohaihai beach and came back down to the shelter which marks the end of the Heaphy Track. I intended to camp there but after checking out the beach, walking around a bit and finding it rather an anticlimax, rain, plus the unbelievable sandflies, I got a lift to the campground in Karamea and went to the pub. Very wet night. 18 kms

This hike total 82 kms

18 February Beautiful sunny morning and I headed out along the road to the Fenian Track trailhead. Cows, a few houses, walking towards mountains. I turned into Kahurangi national park to follow beside the Oparara River and reached the trailhead. Only minutes in I met a hiker who said there was a tree down on the trail making it impassable and a DoC guy working on it. I was devastated as the good stuff was all beyond that point and I had just changed my plans from walking this trail in the other direction. I went on up the trail to have a look at the situation; after two kilometres of climbing high above the river in beech forest I reached the fallen tree, branches across the trail and the DoC guy cutting away. I sat there for ten minutes before he noticed me and said I could now walk through. Phew!

I went on up to Maloneys Bluff, granite outcrop and a big sheer drop to the river, then started the caves circuit. The first cave, Miners Cave, had a gaping opening and loads of thick stalactites and a tiny creek running through it, I walked in a little way.

The second was Tunnel Cave which was 80 metres long and I had to walk through it; there was a sort of path over the rocks inside but also two small drops and it was tricky with my pack. I took it off and lowered it to the cave floor at the first drop so I could get down myself. There was a bend in the cave at the drop and after turning I was relieved that I could see the exit in the distance. The creek running through the cave was shallow. The track to the last cave over Cavern Creek was a real obstacle course of mud, tree roots and awkward steps, this cave was full of water. After this circuit I went on and found a lovely spot by the Fenian River, very shallow with tiny sandy beaches, for a break. A hiker appeared and we had a chat.

I turned onto the Oparara Valley Track in beautiful forest, beech, ferns, moss and had a lovely winding trail over creeks and along the shrunken Oparara River, at one point there was a difficult fallen tree to negotiate and some fantails watched my struggle. I got to Sunshine Flat shelter in a little clearing, view of 1200 metre peaks, and a robin was very attentive all evening. A weka turned up. I put up my tent in the shelter and the forecast showers were not long in coming, another wet night. 17 kms

19 February I continued along the track, more bridges, the trees happily dripping, and soon the rain stopped. I came to the Moria Gate, an enormous archway accessed via a cave, the wide river flowing through, thick stalactites.

Then Mirror Tarn, a black pool that had become detached from the river and lived up to its name.

Further on I dumped my pack and walked along the river to the Oparara Arch, an even bigger arch/cavern/tunnel over the river, 200 metres long and 40 m wide.

Lastly I walked to Box Canyon Cave which had no water, a huge cave with tiny side tunnels and completely black inside. I returned to the car park and got a ride back to Karamea. 13 kms This hike total 30 kms

22 February I started my Old Ghost Road hike from Gentle Annie on the coast (calm today unlike yesterday) and walked along the road by the Mokihinui River (without seeing it) and crossed the wide river then went through farmland. I walked the old Seddonville railway line, through a tunnel, past a lookout over the river,

across a swing bridge and ending at a point where one branch of the river went through a tiny gorge.

I reached the Seddonville pub and was irritated to find it closed as I was counting on eating there; luckily someone was there to tell me it would open later. I walked another kilometre to the low key campground with a nice view of forested peaks, some in cloud. Went back to the pub for dinner. 7 kms

23 February A few kilometres out of Seddonville heading towards those mountains I joined the offical Old Ghost Road in Kahurangi national park and entered lovely green forest. The trail climbed high above the Mokihinui River, now much narrower and in a gorge, and undulated along a ledge contouring the hillside, crossing a number of creeks and waterfalls gushing down noisily to the river. Dappled sunshine. There were great views over the river. Tall tree ferns, skinny rimu, beech, robins and a few weka. I had a break by one of the waterfalls. 

Then the trail was closer to the river and descended before climbing and passing beneath high cliffs. The river was constantly changing: wide then narrow with rapids; winding or straight; sandy beaches, pebble beaches or vertical banks. At Specimen Point hut where I had booked to camp I met a bike rider and a walker who had recently finished the TA and we chatted for about an hour. A robin sat on my shoe and on my head and was determined to steal some food. The hut was beautifully situated on a bend in the river but I decided to continue on so tomorrow's walk wouldn't be too long. 

I had a good view of the Mokihinui widening before dividing at Mokihinui Forks around a big sandbank, backed by higher mountains than before (1300 m plus).

Soon I reached the Forks hut with a view of grassland, bare rock and forested peaks and a sandy fork of the river. Nobody there. Nowhere I could put up my tent so I slept in the hut. 23 kms

24 February I left the hut as cloud was lifting over the river.

The trail went away from the river into damper, darker forest, mossy then returned to the south fork, fairly wide and pebbly.

Eventually I crossed this fork on a long high swing bridge although the river was shallow. I detoured to Goat Creek hut, crossing the creek on stepping stones, collected some water and walked uphill into the forest above the creek. Saw/heard a couple of wood pigeons. I stopped to make coffee and three robins came very close to me, but in the end they spent most of their effort chasing each other away; only one stayed.

I had a very long gradual climb, mainly in forest but with patches of grass, with great views back the way I came; it got tough near the top with the hot sun. Lots of bikes. The top of the pass came with little fanfare and I began descending, looking for somewhere to get water and stop; it was all really dry. Out of the forest I had a view down this new valley with two small lakes in a scrubby bowl.

The trail went below high rocky peaks passing huge scattered lumps of rock and crossing several scree slopes. I found a trickle of water and sat under a rock for a break. 

The rough descent to the lakes had multiple switchbacks, then I crossed a creek and continued descending across grassland and back into beech forest, crossed Stern Creek on a swing bridge and finally reached Stern Creek hut. The tenting area was a meadow beside the creek. 22 kms

25 February Almost all uphill today. I began with a contouring climb in the forest, with two openings to pass under huge granite slabs giving great mountain views. I came around a corner for wonderful views of endless mountains to the south,

and when I emerged from the forest I was surrounded by mountains. I went up a lot of steps and reached the Skyline Ridge, great views and I could see the hut way up ahead on a mountain ledge.

The trail descended into forest then continued climbing. The forest became more mossy and damp and I stopped at a lovely spot beside a creek. A robin visited but soon lost interest.

The last stretch was more switchbacks up to the hut. I passed Ghost Lake in a cirque, green and uninviting, and got to the hut.

A fabulous setting at 1200 metres looking out over an unbroken line of mountains to the east and a full view of the trail I walked up.

But my pre-booked tent site had been taken and I didn't like the vibe at the hut.

I sat a while then decided to carry on to a shelter only four kilometres further. The walking was above the tree line, along an exposed ridge over the Lyell range passing outcrops, with views westwards and later eastwards.

The weather was packing in with dark clouds but I was sheltered from the wind. Top Shelter (1271 m) was in a perfect spot opposite rocky peaks among flax and scrub, a few gentians.

Even a pair of wekas hanging out. By early evening it was pouring and I couldn't see a thing. 16 kms

26 February The sky was clearing when I got up and I had an amazing view of the mountain tops above the clouds.

It was dead quiet and a weka was stealthing around. The cloud came back down and eventually I left the shelter. Soon I was in a goblin forest then descending in mossy beech forest with shafts of sunlight. I saw a lot of hikers and a wild goat. I stopped for coffee by a little trickle of water.

I got to Lyell Saddle hut in a small clearing, looking out over a cluster of mountains which gradually revealed themselves. It became very hot. Up above the hut was a lovely spot to see the surrounding peaks and watch the birds: yellow heads, tree creepers, tomtits. 7 kms

27 February My tent was in a cloud overnight. I continued descending with a few window views out of the forest, the mountains were visible but it was cloudy. The trail crossed numerous slips and waterfalls, I could hear Lyell Creek far below and after half way I was back to the large tree ferns, the forest was brighter and no more moss. The trailside waterfalls continued, giving good places to have a break. Lots of bikers and walkers. I detoured to a former gold battery close to the creek and passed the little cemetery, then arrived at the car park at the end of the trail. The sandflies were vicious. 19 kms

This hike total 94 kms

South to North bike crossing of Tasmania

I wanted to combine a south to north bike crossing of Tasmania with visiting some parts of the island that I've never been to. This involved initially heading south from Hobart to Southport along the coast and going north from there, then checking out an unvisited section of the north coast. 

16 January I got to Hobart late afternoon and headed for Snug along the Sandy Bay road. Busy and I couldn't take my eyes off the road to check out the views. Leaving Hobart there was a massive hill and then the far side beyond Kingston was decidedly rural. After another climb I was surprised to come to a rough fire trail through bush descending to the water and to a road following the coast of the d'Entrecasteaux Channel to Margate. From there I had a nice gravel bike path to Snug. I ate dinner sitting on the beach at the caravan park, lots of ducks and seagulls. 34 kms

17 January I wanted to stick to the coast as much as I could - very indented - and I began with a big hill and descent in a conservation park on a gravel road. After that the constantly undulating road would briefly go by the water at the bottom of each hill (with a view of Bruny Island) and I was getting sick of the incessant hills; this was more a workout than a scenic ride. I had a coffee in Woodbridge and the traffic lightened.

From Gordon onwards the road was right by the water passing many tiny pebbly bays and one long sandy beach, the bays sheltered by Bruny. There was a cold wind and the water was choppy. The hills became muted apart from one whopper. At the top I turned onto a quieter road and returned to the water with some really pretty sandy bays. I camped at the Cygnet campground, full of visiting cherry pickers. 65 kms

18 January I had a very enjoyable ride by the water, still and sunny; views of Bruny, across to the other side of the Huon River where I would be later on, and towards the ranges west of Hobart. Lots of fruit growing. Brief stop in Cradoc then a busy road into Huonville and the bakery I always go to. 

From there I was on the main road via Franklin to Geeveston, alongside the river with a good shoulder. Geeveston was its usual dead self so I decided to continue to Dover as it was such a beautiful day.

I returned via a hilly country road to the main road and turned off onto the Esperance Coast road following the river and then inlets on Esperance Bay. It was a lovely quiet road (so quiet that an echidna was ambling across) with many water views and stretches of bush but the hilliest yet. I was glad to reach the white sandy beach on the edge of Dover and see Mt Adamson beyond set against the blue sky. I went straight to the caravan park and got a spot by the river; now very windy. 93 kms

19 January I went around the shoreline in Dover and got onto the main road for Southport, lined by forest and not too busy. Long hill. Five kilometres from Southport I turned onto a dirt road for a longer but nicer route deep in the forest (saw my first wallaby), stony and I was rattled to bits. Out of the forest I reached the bay, climbed again into forest and came into Southport and its pier and beach. 220 kms from Hobart. I celebrated with coffee at the shop (after an anxious moment when I thought it was closed).

Now I'm heading for the north coast. I went on the main road back to Dover and continued to Geeveston. Nice king ferns in the roadside forest. Constant hills. In Geeveston I went to the One Stop Shop and the Tasmanian Trail campsite. 69 kms

20 January It started raining in the early morning so I packed up quickly and hoped to sit in the bakery but everywhere was closed; Geeveston, already low in my estimation, plummeted further. When the rain stopped I set out for Judbury on the TT. Soon I was climbing into forest, a little respite then an extremely nasty climb that I struggled even to walk up pushing my bike (then I remembered avoiding this track but looking up at it last year). Higher up were some cleared patches then more gradual climbing on a rough trail; the roughness was getting me down. At the top I came to a better quality gravel road on a ridge with great views of the southwest and soon a very long nerve wracking descent. I had lunch at the park/TT campsite by the Huon River in Judbury and called it a day. 28 kms

21 January Today's ride to Bushy Park looked horrific on the map - two huge hills and nothing else, but I could avoid an unrideable section of the TT. The first climb was tedious, in forest with no view and constant climbing. Then a bone-jarring descent to Plenty River (where I was about to rest when a big group turned up) and soon an even prettier creek where I made coffee. The second climb was ok, more rolling and with little clearings. Near the top I had mountain views northwards and the more open descent passing very young pine plantations was smoother. Black cockatoos. Out of the forest I joined another road for the last part, descending further in a wooded gorge and headed for the Bushy Park roadhouse, same baking hot weather, same lunch of pie, slice and coffee (instant offered with an apology) as last year's visit and, amazingly, same day! 56 kms

22 January I sat at the roadhouse while it rained lightly. Much cooler day, strong wind mostly from behind. Crossed the Derwent River and had a nice ride through rolling countryside, grassy, with an especially good section on a gravel road. Some views of mountains around the central plateau. Came to Bothwell and booked a room at the pub. Cute compact town with old buildings. 50 kms

23 January Grey day, almost light drizzle. I started my climb onto the central plateau on the A5. It was rolling at first then I had steep Shannon Tier; I met a cyclist with his dog on the back of his bike for a long chat at the top. It was bushland from here, a short level section then Bakers Tier. At the top (actually it wasn't yet the top but I thought at the time that it was) I checked out the Steppes rocks with metal sculptures of wildlife and had a coffee break in the clearing at the Steppes homestead cluster of timber huts. Once out of the bush and crossing the plains on the plateau it was freezing and I was riding into the wind. I turned onto a lesser road and had one more stiff climb (a double header) before reaching the Arthurs Lake roadhouse. I had a long break there; a cyclist showed up who was fed up with the TT and we had a good chat. Then I went off the bitumen to the lake, went past my campsite from last year to a different one at Jonah Bay (initially on a road of shale chips that was hard to ride) and picked a spot right at the water's edge. Rained a little in the night. 60 kms

24 January Cold. I returned to the bitumen road (saw several wallabies) and continued climbing for many kilometres until I was right beneath Mt Blackwood. I had glimpses of the Great Lake. Quite suddenly I was on the edge of the plateau, green farmland far below, distant Western Tiers and some very sheer cliffs to each side of me. I had about 12 kilometres of continual winding descent at a pleasant grade and the road to myself. There were little waterfalls beside the road. At the bottom I passed the Poatina power station and tail race pipe coming almost vertically down the cliff face. I turned off for Poatina hydro village and a lovely cafe.

A little more descending then I was riding past cabbage fields and other crops. The cliffs of the plateau looked formidable behind me. The roads became long and straight and it was hard going into the wind. I stopped at Cressy and watched the wind pick up becoming very gusty. The last stretch to Longford was unpleasant on a busy road with minimal shoulder and a crosswind blowing me towards the traffic. I found a side road for the last bit and headed for the bakery and then the campground by the river. 73 kms

25 January I crossed the river out of Longford and had a nice rural road for half the way to Launceston. Then I went on the highway which had a good shoulder until the final scary descent into Launceston where the shoulder vanished. Went to my usual maccas in Launceston. 

Long climb out of Launceston which continued when I turned onto the hilly Bridport road. When I got to the top of the first range I went onto a nice gravel road heading into the bush but after only three kilometres a sign said no through road; I asked a passing driver about this and she said the road on my map was blocked off with no outlet from where I was. So I returned to the bitumen, had a good descent to farmland and started on a gravel road shortcut to get off the busy road. This featured a completely unrideable hill and at the top, where I could see the main road far below and some forested peaks, I talked to someone outside his house; he said this was also a no through road but wondered if I could get through on a bike, and fortunately I found a rough track which I could walk down. Then I remained on the main road, it went through denser bush and passed newly replanted hillsides and was much quieter, a real roller coaster and making this a hard day. I reached Pipers River and was surprised to find a shop, nothing else. 

I was on a busier road for a while before turning onto a bush lined gravel road to the metropolis of Lefroy (10 houses max) and finally a narrow sealed road to Beechford. The hills continued to the very end. I walked out to the crescent of sandy beach backed by dunes: the north coast. It was extremely windy. The campground shown on my maps appeared to have been built on but I found a spot out of sight behind some bushes (with an ocean view and I could hear it). 92 kms

26 January I had breakfast overlooking the beach, much less windy but a grey day. Then I took a back road to George Town on the eastern side of the Tamar River passing scrubby grazing land and low hills. I came upon an open cafe and had a long break, also booked a room. 

I took an easy ride out to Low Head and the lighthouse, going along the Tamar estuary. I just happened to be there for the weekly sounding of the restored foghorn (after 30 blows, three at a time, it got a bit old).

The weather had become hot and sunny and the views of the sandy beaches along the north coast were good. 32 kms

27 January I left George Town on the highway, went onto a lesser but busy road and onto a lovely quiet road through grazing cow country with low hills around, one valley across from my route to Pipers River. It was raining lightly and a bit misty. This joined a busier road until I turned onto a gravel road and finally the highway to the Batman bridge across the Tamar. From high up I had good views of the wide river and at the top of one hill I stopped for blackberries. I made coffee at the picnic area under the bridge, which was high and long. 

On the other side I was on a road right by the river and then climbing inland a couple of whopper hills to a ridge with vineyards, Western Tiers on the horizon. It got sunny. Long descent to Beaconsfield where I sat for a while. Last section to Beauty Point (big marina and little else) and the very quiet campground was a welcome return to the Tamar on an off road path. Then in the late afternoon I went back to Beaconsfield, with several stops for blackberries, to buy food, as there is no shop on my route between there and Port Sorell. 72 kms

28 January Beautiful day. Not far out of Beauty Point I turned onto a gravel road going into the forest of the coastal range; it was lovely riding with ferns and a creek and climbing. The last part was too steep to ride and at the top there was a burnt out car and no view. The descent was long and horribly corrugated and native pine, drier. At the bottom I met a cyclist on his fifth lap of Tasmania.

Soon I was in Narawntapu national park crossing scrubby ferny land. I checked at the visitor centre that the campsite near the beach had water and rode there, into an awful headwind. This beach was on the Rubicon River estuary looking across to my next destination Port Sorell. There were four taps but no water. Someone gave me water to make coffee and I sat there, while a blue tongue lizard came right up to me and tried to steal a coffee sachet.

Then I decided to pack up and go back to the campsite at the visitor centre which had water and I had a speedy wind-assisted return. I walked over the dunes to Bakers Beach, a beautiful sweep of sand between the estuary and a headland. It was very hot and I had a restful time sitting in some shade on the dunes reading.

There were lots of wallabies and native hens st the camping area. 37 kms

29 January I had a nice ride through rural countryside under the coast range, still hilly, crossed the two arms of the Rubicon River and had a busy road to Port Sorell where I had a scone break.

I went on a bike path along the estuary beach to Shearwater and continued on a road above the water along Hawley Beach which was broken up by orange tinged rocks. I could see across to Narawntapu.

Returning past Port Sorell I found quiet roads through patchwork farmland to Latrobe, very pleasant. 58 kms

30 January Sunny day; it's hard to believe I've had an entire trip to Tasmania without serious rain. I took the Mersey River bike path into Devonport and went around the coast: climbed Mersey Bluff and passed several beaches. Then a bike path west (not flat) alongside the highway, with coast views at top of big hill, to Leith and across the Forth River to Turners Beach. Long beach and a cafe by the highway. I went back to Devonport the same way and on to East Devonport to relax before tomorrow's ferry. 43 kms

Total 864 kms

Two bike rides to end the year

I decided to ride the Great Victorian Rail Trail over four days, starting at Tallarook.

19 December I had a coffee at the Tallarook general store and started out on the trail. The countryside looked great in the sunshine: hills and grazing land, all relatively green. Some bush. I rode past the assortment of station sites, crossing the road many times, crossed the Goulburn River and got to Yea where it was already hot. I had a sandwich and went on, the going was harder as I gradually climbed to the Cheviot tunnel - I hadn't appreciated that the tunnel would be near the top of a hill. The tunnel was about 150 metres long and dead straight so I could see the exit but I found it slightly unnerving.

Nice downhill afterwards to the Alexandra spur turnoff. There were some welcome avenues of trees along the trail and the trail was mainly well away from the road. A ruined trestle bridge in a paddock. I stopped at the Koriella station site for a break then went on to Eglington Gap for a view over the area and the Cathedral ranges.

It was really hot in Alexandra. I got some water and returned to Koriella to camp on the grass; it was too public for my liking but I appreciated the toilet and water. 86 kms

20 December Deafening din of cockatoos woke me. I went back to the spur trail turnoff and on towards Mansfield. I stopped at Yarck for coffee and then had a long uphill to the Merton Gap, highest point on the trail but no view as the trail went through a cutting. It was getting hot again. I saw an echidna beside the trail. Again some bits of tree lined trail and lots of cockatoos. I followed the river into Bonnie Doon and Lake Eildon had plenty of water. I had a rest in Bonnie Doon then crossed the lake on the non-traffic bridge and went along a levee above the lake. The rest of the way into Mansfield had good views of the Mt Buller foothills. Mansfield was busy and hot. The way back seemed easier. I went to a campground by the lake, the last 3 kms was downhill and I was exhausted. A cockatoo tried to eat my noodles while I was putting up my tent. 94 kms

21 December Deafening cockatoos again. Much cooler. I rode back to Yarck, first with a tailwind and then into the wind as I climbed to the Merton Gap again. I saw a blue tongue lizard. Parrots. As I was going into the recreation ground in Yarck a group of about 8 people descended on me asking questions about my bike and one guy took lots of photos of my set-up. I made coffee and returned to the headwind. Lots of sheep. Lots of cows. It has all been very pretty. I stopped for a sandwich in Molesworth. All these places look so different from when I've driven through. I saw a kangaroo. Then I climbed to the tunnel, which I didn't like much this time either. On the other side I chatted with a couple of women riding e-bikes. I had a nice descent to Yea and went to the bakery; the e-bikers soon arrived for another chat. I did a quick tour of the Yea wetlands and went to the caravan park. I went into town for fish and chips. Then chatted with 4 riders who turned up and made a fire. 70 kms

22 December Cockatoos screeching. Even cooler. I got lost in Yea again, then back through grazing land; once my route was barred by a large flock of sheep. I stopped for coffee at Granite station site. Finally a corridor of bush, sightings of the Goulburn River and descent to Tallarook. Only a short day so I continued to Seymour (also more choice of cafes) on a pleasant gravel road and last bit on busy road. 54 kms

Total 304 kms

A week later I did a ride from Ballarat in a different variety of Victorian summer weather.

28 December I left Wendouree station and rode on bike paths then gravel roads in sunshine, windy, fairly flat apart from two stiff climbs, with grazing cows. I got to Lake Learmonth and made a full lap, it was pretty and I could ride quite a bit right by the water. There were volcanic hills surrounding the lake. Crimson rosellas and tiny birds with bright yellow. As I left the lake the sky had clouded over and soon it rained; I sheltered under a tree for a while. Then the sun came back out and I could see Mt Arapiles in the distance. I could see other lakes. The roads were very quiet but I was going into the wind all day. It rained again and then heavily enough that I had to shelter when I was only a kilometre out of Beaufort. I got to the Beaufort bakery just in time but everything else was closed. The low key caravan park was beside Beaufort Lake with ducks, swamp hens, egrets, pelicans, herons - a pleasant surprise (so close to this uninspiring town) with nice bush, and I walked around it. 66 kms

29 December Freezing cold and the lake was covered by mist. I rode along a narrow sealed then gravel road through farmland with the only other traffic in 26 kms being one bicycle. Saw a fox and a kangaroo. I needed a break in Skipton, only the servo was open. Then I went onto the rail trail, mostly bush lined with several irritating gates. It finally warmed up. I stopped in (chilly again) Linton where the cafe was open. More bushland reserves as the trail went along an embankment and I came to Nimons high trestle bridge, the highlight of the rail trail.

I went down below the bridge for the best view. After that the trail was more open, going through Scarsdale to Smythesdale where it took me ages to find the free camping, a large area with scattered trees and about 8 caravans. I had to go to the servo to get food. 76 kms

30 December Coffee from the servo then I did the last part of the rail trail in open grazing country to the outskirts of Ballarat. Crossing the city took a long time, with a short stretch along the lake. I was heading for Ballan; I found some fairly quiet narrow sealed roads and gravel roads, crossed Moorabool River, sometimes parallel with the railway line. Hillier than the previous days. Nice to ride in the sunshine. I came into the compact little town of Ballan and went to the bakery. 60 kms

Total 204 kms

Mt Bogong circuit

2 January I reached Watchbed Creek parking area just past Falls Creek at 7 pm and set out on my Bogong loop walk, a lollipop shape. It was a beautiful evening, still and sunny as I walked along the plateau, initially snow gums then low flowering scrub and Mt Nelse ahead. I turned off for the kilometre to Edmondson Hut in a little patch of gnarled snow gums and found a spot for my tent. Small group there. The hut was fairly typical, old and worn. At sunset I could see Mt Mackay with its tower and distant Mt Feathertop outlined in red. Clear starry night. 5.6 kms

3 January I returned to the main trail, contoured around Mt Nelse and had increasingly good views of the mountains northwards. I turned onto a grassy narrow trail through snow gums to Ropers Hut and began the long descent on Duane Spur to Big River. All in gum forest, some steep bits, a few honeyeaters chirping and I startled a large blue tongue lizard. The river became noisy as I approached it but it was completely hidden until I reached the bank. I held the chain to help me across, the water was shin deep and cold but the pebbles were not too slippery. On the other side was a small clearing so I had a break. Then I had the long climb up T Spur; steep at first and unrelenting with lots of fallen trees across the trail, some tricky to clamber over. Hot. From the first saddle I had lovely mountain views

and then I wound along among snow gums to a creek running through a valley where I had a break. I reached a larger valley and took the detour to Howmans falls: several sets of falls along the creek ending with a thin cascade between basalt cliffs right down the face of the escarpment. It was hard to access a view of the entire falls. I had another break by the creek and went on to Cleve Cole hut, a snake curled up on a step; I had heard there was a crying baby there so I decided to walk on and I ended up camping by the last stand of snow gums before the treeless slopes of Mt Bogong.

It was a great spot with a view of tiers of mountains to the southwest and the wind from earlier had died down.

20 kms

4 January The wind came up really strong in the night. I packed up quickly and started walking towards Mt Bogong through a sea of alpine daisies; it wasn't pleasant, the wind buffeting me so much that it was impossible to stay in the groove of the narrow track and I kept stumbling. Clouds were rolling over as I reached the summit and it was sufficiently cold not to linger but I had reasonable views. I contoured along West Summit as the sky cleared and from Quartz Knob I had great views of mountain ranges leading into the distance in all directions. Walking along Quartz Ridge with wide open vistas should have been a highlight but my experience was diminished by the wind. Then I began to descend, going into snow gums and a series of grassy clearings where I was finally able to have my first coffee. The grassy trail went over a few knobs with good views south towards Spion Kopje, sheltered from the wind, then descended to Little Bogong Creek, and descended more to Big River, this crossing was narrower and slightly shallower. I had lunch on the south side. The climb up Timms Spur was long but a good gradient on a grass track with a few obstacles. It was hot work, first in gum forest then snow gums then open tops, from where I could see Mt Nelse once again. At my next break I could see Mt Mackay. It was nice walking, just a bit windy. I reached the junction with Duane Spur meaning I had completed the circular part of my lollipop, and then retraced my steps down to Ropers Hut to camp. Four tents there, the first people I saw all day. A calm evening among the snow gums and I could see Mt Bogong, West and Quartz Knob from my tent. 23 kms

5 January The wind came up in the night again but this time I was sheltered. I set off back towards the car,soon passing a big snake slithering away. Nice open walking with light wind. I turned off for Johnstone Hut on the opposite side of the trail from Edmonson; it was less rustic and situated among predominantly dead snow gums. Then I walked the last bit alongside Watchbed Creek to the parking. When I got among the snow gums it was again hot. 12 kms

Total 60 kms

Andalusia Coast to Coast walk

Returning to Spain I found a walk route that followed an arc through the Baetic mountains (Cordillera Bética) in Andalusia starting at the Mediterranean and finishing on the Atlantic. Sounded like my thing but I was concerned about the reliability of the guide book and lack of accommodation at the end of some sections so I intended to use a variety of trails and improvise where necessary.

14 November I took the bus from Malaga to Nerja to start my Andalusia coast to coast walk. Once I was out of Malaga there was no sign of there having been a huge rain and flooding event yesterday. In Nerja I walked to the southern edge of the town, to a plaza with a balcony overlooking the Med and views of the mountains I would be heading into. I chose this to be my start line.

I walked through the town, passing some fairly average beaches, crossed some roads and heathland and came into a lovely gorge with high sandstone cliffs and little caves, some dripping. I was climbing gently. Nice birdsong. The day was misty. After 7 kilometres I joined the main trail, GR 249, and climbed more steeply, soon reaching a large picnic area and the Sierra de Almijara. I continued climbing to a pass

where I looked into another valley, dry tree covered mountains, and then descended steeply, corkscrew like, to a vigorous mountain stream I had to cross. I climbed to another pass, with views across the mountains to Nerja and the sea,

and then a third pass followed by a fourth, both with sea views. The trail was narrow and stony. I came down from the last pass to a dry pebbly river bed and repeatedly crisscrossed it for a while. Suddenly I could see Frigiliana high above me. I climbed a steep concrete road and I was in the centre of the village, houses all white and perched on the edge of the hillside. There was a huge deck area with cafes overlooking the terraced hillside and the road down to the coast. 19 kms

15 November Perfect blue sky so I wanted to set out early; I walked around the village for over an hour looking for somewhere open to get breakfast, and came across the striped brick church. At 9.15 I found a cafe just opening and within a minute it was full. 

I walked along the road out of Frigiliana by mango and olive trees and agriculture in the valley, then turned onto an access road through pine forest to the lost and now restored village of Acebuchal. At a turn in the road I saw the village, small and tucked below high mountains. I stopped for coffee. 

I descended through the valley then turned north and headed up a pine filled ravine with a noisy stream I couldn't see. At the head of the ravine I turned back up the other flank, having to jump across the stream. I walked on this side until I was back above a much larger cultivated valley and tried to navigate my way to Cómpeta. Some of it was a complicated rough track but I had lovely views over the valley. Finally I looked down on Cómpeta with white buildings and a distinctive brick church tower, and I descended the steep narrow streets to the church and main square. Swordfish for dinner. 17 kms

16 November I walked out of Cómpeta along a road flanked by olive and avocado trees on a path that was like a balcony overlooking the valley and Canillas de Albaida. I passed a small chapel, went through the town and had a zigzagging stony path down to the Rio Cajula which I followed, repeatedly crossing it on planks of wood. 

Then I climbed away from the river into the Sierra de Tejeda, Almijara y Alhama and came onto scrubby hillsides where I was surprised to meet a couple walking. Shortly after I found myself scrambling through thistles when the path disappeared; after climbing to a ruined building as instructed and seeing no way out I gave up and scraped my way over to a path I could see across the ravine. (I knew those walkers must have found a way through.) This path went through olive groves with views across to my ruin, which looked better from a distance,

and I reached the main trail again. I was soon on a ridge with views across to the white houses of Sedella and I crossed a high pass. Now the walk was cruisy along the ridge, gradually descending. I left the ridge for a track initially along a water channel then descending towards Sedella with great views of high mountains, scrubby, and the bare granite face of La Maroma to the north.

The descent spiralled steeply and roughly to the river until I could see a gorgeous single arch Roman bridge.

I crossed the bridge and walked up into Sedella at 2pm. There were several cafes on the small square but nowhere to get any food. 16 kms

17 November Sedella looked pretty in the early morning light as I climbed above it and started my long ascent towards La Maroma in the Sierra Tejeda.

At first I was on a wide dirt track then I came onto a narrow rocky path. I stopped at a spring beside a sheet of granite. The view towards the face of the mountain was amazing and I could see a very long stream I would be crossing.

Soon I was having trouble staying on the overgrown trail as it descended into the first of many ravines and I became worried, but I found it, and then met some hikers who said the path was in better condition where I was heading. I also felt better once I could see the path winding along the mountainside ahead. I got to the big stream, one of several where I could get a drink, and spent hours climbing in and out of ravines and valleys (some had active streams, others had dry stream beds) and contouring the mountainside.

I went over one pass, then another at 1420 metres, and through a couple of notches between rocks, and as I began descending the path was lined by pines - with the ground covered in pine needles it was easier to walk. From the top I could still see the Med. I started to get views to the west over several valley villages and a reservoir, and mountain ranges in every direction. It felt odd to see houses and roads yet be somewhere so remote. I undulated along and was pleased when I saw I was on a signed trail and then I saw walkers ahead of me on the trail which was reassuring. I had a very long descent on hairpins, passed big outcrops, and emerged above Alcaucin, which I had not seen at all from high up, then walked into the village and had a plate of chips. There was a nice 5-spout tiled water fountain and a white church on a tiny square, and the usual steep streets.

18 kms

18 November I made up my own route to Riogordo and it was successful although I had some anxious moments. Dogs were barking at me all day. I descended to the valley floor, great views of a ruined castle, rugged mountain faces, olive groves and scattered white buildings. I passed a lot of orange trees full of ripe oranges and stopped in Puente de Don Manuel at a cafe full of English people.

Then I was on a busy road for a while, turned onto a minor road heading for a river crossing I was unsure about. I got to the river and paddled across easily but had difficulty finding my trail on the other side, got stuck in thistles and ended up on a different trail. I followed the next trail until it evaporated and walked up through an olive grove to the main road. Great views to the north west of mountains with bare rock faces and to the southwest hazy blue tiers of mountain ranges. I tried some alternative trails which were muddy and hilly, and decided that walking along the road was fine. When I was still a few kilometres from Riogordo I stopped at a petrol station (dominated by an impressive mountain) for a snack, as I was exhausted, then descended into the town, really tucked into the valley. A big flock of goats was being herded along the dry river bed.

I had a coffee on the square and asked if the bar was open for dinner, the guy said yes, what time would you like; google said they were closed on Mondays, maybe that's why I ended up eating there alone. 23 kms

19 November A breakfast toasted sandwich in the bar where the locals were guzzling brandy. I climbed past ploughed fields and through olive groves (trees full of ripe olives) on a wide track, then a road stretch; where I turned off the road I was surprised to find an open bar so I stopped. 

Next a muddy farm track passing bare fields and olives, climbing until I reached the main road, where I went on climbing. From the road there was a view in all directions: the peak Peña Negra right there, La Maroma distant but still looking huge, and ranges southwest. Later on I could also see the El Torcal massif ahead. Also a town and farmhouses. And olive groves.

I had over an hour of road until I turned off for Villanueva de Cauche, a small village that is apparently unchanged since the 17th century. A cute place with just three streets (cafe closed) but badly positioned next to the motorway.

I was worried my hotel/restaurant down the road would also be closed and I had no food. So I rushed on, adjacent to the motorway, to the hotel beside it. Open. I was hungry and had no choice but to have the rather average menu del dia for lunch. 18 kms

20 November Easy day. I set off on a dirt road in howling wind and cloud all around so I couldn't see anything that was higher up. The trail climbed past bare fields and olives and I had a glimpse of my destination Villanueva de la Concepcion lower down in sunshine. Once I started to descend I had good views to distant mountains to the south. I was now on an 18th century historic route that ran between Madrid and Malaga; three of the original elaborate bridges remained, two in stone and one of red bricks. I passed several farmhouse ruins and saw goats being herded down a hillside. It was sheltered here and the sun came out and I got to see this side of El Torcal.

I climbed the hill into the town and hoped it wouldn't be too quiet; a woman directed me to a bar and it was busy. Then I had lunch on a square in the sun, but the wind was still cold. 14 kms

21 November I chose to walk a section of the Camino Mozárabe to Antequera. I left V de la Concepcion in sunshine and walked below the blocky face of El Torcal for several kilometres,

then turned north and suddenly I was going into an extremely strong wind and the mountain was being engulfed in cloud. I was climbing in farmland and then contouring low slopes of the mountain with grass and boulders and unusual karst formations. I passed a farm just before the highest point on the trail and came to the Puerto de la Escaleruela, a strange area of eroded karst limestone (on the ground and outcrops and a peak I could just about make out) and - I read - a view to Antequera and its surrounding mountains. It was freezing cold. The trail descended very steeply and soon I could see Antequera in the distance and a patchwork of farmland and neat farmhouses directly below. The wind was gone.

I came down rapidly through this rugged terrain, at the bottom a farmer held his sheepdogs at bay as I passed, and had a cruisy stroll to Antequera. As I approached the town I had great views of the castle looming above the old town and the curiously shaped rock Peña de los Enamorados.

I stopped at the first bar I saw to get warm, with a perfect view of the castle.

I was able to go inside three churches (keen on emotional statues beneath cupolas full of plaster angels) and looked right at one from my room.

I walked out to the site of two Neolithic (3500 BC) dolmens: Dolmen de Viera which had a corridor and small chamber, and Dolmen de Menga which had a corridor, large chamber divided into sections and a well. Later I toured the Alcazaba with its arched entrance, two towers, double walls, mosque ruins; then the adjacent church (simple round arches) and ruins of Roman baths. I was just too late for the next church, and when I got back to my hotel the church opposite was open: lots of gold-encased statues. I ate tapas in two places, including snails. 22 kms

22 November A day on the GR 7. A long dull road walk out of Antequera on a grey day, improved when I went onto a dirt road, climbed steeply alongside the Camorro Alto massif which was in cloud yesterday and had other mountain views. Lots and lots of olive trees full of black olives. Lots of barking dogs. I descended then climbed again, crossed a field and reached a dirt road along a ridge with great views west over olive groves and the distant Guadalhorce River. I came down on a winding path going around a conical mountain

and got a fleeting view over the houses of Valle de Abdalajis before descending more. In one place I had to negotiate a landslide at a stream crossing. The town was hidden until I was right above it and had a huge cliff on one side, the Abdalajis range. 20 kms

23 November I climbed out of the town right below the towering blocky limestone cliffs of Sierra de Abdalajis, passing under a huge curving rock face.

Then an unusual six-basin water trough. Soon there was nature park with grass and boulders and some miniature palms to my right, but farms and farmland to my left and views into the Guadalhorce valley. I came into a more rugged area with outcrops ahead and alongside the high mountains of Sierra de Huma.

Griffon vultures floating around the cliff tops. From the highest point I descended in pine forest passing below the Escalera Arabe where I could see rock climbers really high up. Lots of people were walking up the trail. I had views of the Guadalhorce reservoir surrounded by both green and bare mountains and reached El Chorro village, just a few buildings and a station, surrounded by cliffs. 12 kms

Nothing to do in El Chorro so I got the train to Álora 15 minutes away and visited the Arab castle remains. The castle was high above the town, which was itself on a steep hillside, and featured a tower, a small part of a church and its tower, and some walls. There was a vast view over the countryside and the Guadalhorce River, a trickle here but I could still see mud from the recent flooding.

24 November I went out early to walk up the Escalera Arabe. I cut all the switchbacks from my descent yesterday to El Chorro and turned onto a path contouring the cliffs. Soon I saw a group of ibex snacking on grass and then several more, but they ran off.

I started on the steps, which were all sizes and right against the cliff, in sections.

I could see limestone outcrops all around and the reservoir below. The steps (maybe 200) finished and with a bit more climbing I was on a plateau with a farmhouse, and the 200 metres higher cliffs of Pico de Huma behind. It was very beautiful with today's absence of cloud.

I decided to return the same way rather than continue the loop through the forest. I could see griffon vultures hovering around the cliff tops as I descended. 8 kms

In the afternoon it clouded over. I went to walk the Caminito del Rey. I was gobsmacked by the number of people - a group of thirty starting every ten minutes. After walking to the start along that Guadalhorce River (brown from the heavy rain ten days ago) I joined my group and went into the Gaitanes gorge. Immediately the path hung off the gorge wall, 100 metres above the river, where the gorge was only seven metres wide.

The gorges were the best parts where the path was cantilevered out along the gorge wall, looking across the gorge to the railway line (many tunnels and viaducts) and the amazing 300 metre high cliffs on the other side, often gouged with caves and hollows.

The derelict original path was often right under the new one. Near the end was a suspension bridge high above the river, parallel to a pipe. The route finished at a huge snacking area. 8 kms

25 November GR 249 today, which is usually well marked. I climbed up above El Chorro on a narrow rocky path right under cliffs, across the reservoir from the town, and reached a dam wall. Then I followed a ridge with a fabulous view across to the area I walked yesterday: the plateau with farmhouse and cliffs of Sierra de Huma and the Gaitanes gorge.

A little further on I was pleased to get a view of the Bobastro 9th century ruined Mozárabe church far below - the site was closed today. Then I noticed a track going straight down the mountain to some signboards so I scrambled down and helped myself to a tour of the rocky ruins: a couple of arches, low walls, some deep cavities and a few columns.

I tried to leave via the official entrance but there was a locked gate and I had to scramble back up the hill.

A long stretch winding upwards along a ridge with views into green valleys either side, and I came across sheep being herded along my road. Then the route suddenly went on a rough stony track and into pine forest with sand underfoot. I passed chapel ruins and a shrine and it started raining lightly. I emerged from the forest above Carratraca, white houses and a prominent yellow town hall and tower; next to the town hall was a pretty terraced garden with orange trees. My first stop was Casa Pepe restaurant to see if my room booking done with help from the receptionist in Antequera had worked - it had! I had lunch at this Carratraca institution: gazpachuela, chicken drumsticks, chorizo and chips, flan. It was a nice little village with some grand buildings that had seen better days when it was a spa resort, and an occasional sulphurous smell. 18 kms

26 November The other side of Carratraca faced a new mountain range, Sierra de Alcaparain.

I climbed past scattered houses and orchards of oranges, lemons and pomegranates, and helped myself to two oranges from an unfenced tree.

Then I was up in pine forest, more climbing as I contoured around the mountains seen earlier. I took a slight detour and my reward was finding dozens of goats sheltering by a low cliff.

Soon after I came onto a ridge with an extraordinary view over all the mountains I've walked by, from La Maroma to El Torcal to La Huma and even a shining sliver of the Med; it was quite unreal to see this vast area of ridges and valleys and I wasn't that high up, 700 metres. I returned to forest, passed a disused marble quarry (could see the veins in the exposed marble) and had a few kilometres on the road.

I turned off to walk right under Sierra Prieta on a minor path, limestone rock with pinnacles to one side and farmland below.

The path petered out and my route was supposedly marked by cairns; I didn't see many of these but I was able to follow goat tracks - literally. It was rugged country: the mountains, outcrops, scree, and rocks lying everywhere. The second time I had a stretch where the cairns couldn't be seen, below Sierra Cabrilla, the goat tracks didn't last long and I got very confused. I had noticed in the distance a man standing by a van on a ridge between fields; after a time of me bumbling around I heard him yelling El Burgo, El Burgoand gesticulating, so I walked over to him through the thistles and he showed me a dirt trail near where we were standing, which was my route. Then I had a long descent to El Burgo on a concrete road passing olive trees and finally crossing the Turón River (clear water) on a single arch Roman bridge. The town was quiet and I walked the whole length to find a bar. 23 kms

27 November I had all my meals at the same bar in El Burgo. I crossed the Turón and had a nice walk alongside it, then climbing gradually through a gorge, pine trees on my side and high cliffs of the Sierra des Nieves with circling vultures on the other side. It was freezing cold but I knew I would get very hot once the sun hit me higher up. I could hear the river but not see it until further up the gorge where it became gravelly and eventually dry. After a lookout over the Valle de Lifa and the ruins of Torre de Lifa on a rocky hilltop I descended steeply to cross the dry river bed and climbed out crossing little grassy terraces. Some lovely autumn leaf colours.

The path, now narrow and stony, steepened and I had sweeping views back to the gorge, across the rocky valley and to high rocky walls. It felt quite like wilderness until I reached a plateau with a farm. I had to cross some fields and pass the sheep enclosures, where a barking dog crawled under a fence to sniff at me (but nothing worse). More climbing on a farm track brought me to a pass at 1169 metres. 

I descended on a dirt road, all around very green, and could see Ronda in the valley. Once I reached the valley floor I could no longer see the town and it seemed hard work walking for a couple of hours past ploughed fields with nothing to look at. Coming into Ronda was not impressive: just boring appartments and busy roads. 27 kms

Once I walked around the old town I enjoyed the place more: the Puente Nuevo straddling the deep gorge is certainly spectacular, lots of churches, grand buildings, the Roman bridge, town walls and archways.

28 November I checked out the Arab baths and saw the third of the bridges and left Ronda at midday. I walked across the Puente Nuevo and descended a steep cobbled path down the gorge to the river, getting good views of the bridge and stopping to look at the waterfall on the way.

Once at the bottom I walked through the valley beside the sheer cliffs that the town sits on top of, and headed towards another mountain range.

I crossed a railway line and started climbing into the Sierra de Grazalema. The path got steeper and steeper until I reached a pass with giant agaves and a view ahead of strange karst limestone peaks;

a few metres beyond there was a chapel Ermita de la Escarihuela and the amazing sight of a semicircular ridge above Montejaque.

I descended to the town, tucked into these weird mountains, on a pristine cobbled path. As I walked through the town, passing the exhibit of the former wash house, I was disappointed to see that absolutely everything was closed. The shops opened at 5 but nothing else. 12 kms

29 November The village square was lively early. I climbed out of the village on a gravel road and was soon surrounded by the very eroded limestone mountains. Then a brief descent to reach the grassy Libar valley hidden in these mountains, with lots of massive holm oak trees and free roaming cows.

It was peaceful and took a couple of hours to cross, with just one farmhouse at each end. The climb out of the valley was on a rocky/stony single track but easy to follow, crossing several grassy terraces, and I reached a pass; the view into the next, tiny, valley was breathtaking for the sheer size of the mountains around it.

The path contoured above this valley (which had a farmhouse in one corner) and climbed to get above a narrow deep gorge. Once I was past the gorge I began my descent to Cortes de la Frontera, which looked like a big place from above. The rough path corkscrewed down, merged into a road, and then the last part was a no messing around slippery path dropping straight into the houses. I stopped at the supermarket and then the first bar (next to the bullring), just to be sure of getting fed. I popped inside the large church and saw the elaborate town hall. 20 kms

30 November Started out a ho-hum day and became something special. I had a long downhill from Cortes, stopping at Casa de la Piedra where a chapel (who knows?) had been carved out of a lone outcrop with rooms, wells, niches, steps.

I came to the railway line and went through a 2 kms long but narrow village bordering it and then passed farms.

Then the good part. I crossed the Rio Guadiaro and began climbing above it until I was contouring the cliffs as the river entered Cañon de las Buitreras. Further on the gorge narrowed dramatically and from a lookout I could see the narrow river (turquoise water) and railway line between high cliffs.

I even saw a train go in and out of the tunnels on the far side of the gorge. The path stayed high for a while then descended very steeply to a bridge across the gorge where the walls were almost touching and went into a tunnel through the rock with steps where I had to crouch.

Next a long steep climb to a lookout where I had a good chat with two Belgians.

The sight of the tiny river far below was amazing. Then an even steeper descent back to the river with a lookout half way down; the river was widening slightly, the cliffs still extremely high. Finally I walked close to the river's edge, with little pools, gravel beaches and rapids, and I had a chat with a Spanish family. My only real conversations of the walk so far. As I exited the gorge I could not imagine where El Colmenar could be because all I could see was forested hillsides. The village appeared suddenly and was completely dominated by the station (not even El Colmenar but called Gaucin) which split the place in two. 17 kms

1 December I was pleased to find a lively bar open early on a Sunday morning. The mountain tops were in cloud so I felt ok with my decision to walk the Via Serrana at the edge of the Alcoronales nature park. I began by crossing the Guadiaro, now just a normal river again, and climbing through a field then on the road then a dirt road. It was an unpleasantly muggy day and misty. From the highest point I could see San Pablo de Buceite ahead and Jimena de la Frontera beyond, nicely lined up together. I descended to a hamlet where the road was lined by avocado trees and later oranges and crossed the river again.

San Pablo had a large central square where I had coffee - it's been ages since I could have a coffee in the middle of my walk - and continued on some sort of ancient right of way that went between fences. Completely out of the blue I had to climb an embankment and cross the railway line. 

More of the little used path and I reached Jimena: tiered white houses and parts of a castle at the top; the usual narrow streets but with the footpaths slimmed down so the cars could race around.

I looked at a church and found my hotel with a view back over the valley I crossed. Then I had lunch of asparagus with scrambled eggs and ham. I walked around the castle ruins covering a large area - with a round tower, gateway, lots of walls to ruined buildings. The mountains beyond looked especially rugged. In the evening I sat in the square by a Moorish bell tower. 20 kms

2 December This was an uninteresting day and again muggy but by compensation I ended up staying in a castle. I walked for hours alongside the railway line by ploughed fields, the track often muddy, and all completely flat. I forded a river a few times. I had a break at a level crossing before leaving the railway line and I was treated to a train passing.

The track doubled back on itself and when it resumed forward progress I had a glimpse of my castle on a hilltop. The trail became rocky and climbed alongside hills of cork trees which had been left to go wild. From higher up I could see a hazy Rock of Gibraltar. I reached Castillon de Castellar: the castle looked very impressive in being intact, and the hotel entrance was in a castle courtyard. From my room in the castle I looked out over the day's walk; the fields, hedges and trees were pretty from here. The compact white village of Castellar de la Frontera was inside the castle walls. 21 kms

3 December Blue sky, not muggy. I started with walking downhill from the castle on a Roman cobbled track then followed a road passing cork trees. At the end there was a cork processing plant with sheets of cork piled up. Next I had the worst part of the whole route: over an hour on a tarmac bike path separated by concrete bollards from a major road and dense blackberry on the other side. Then suddenly the most extraordinary sight of the route: a section where storks had built nests on top of all the electricity pylons (and in some trees) and were either sitting there making a din or flying around.

I got to a roadside restaurant (of several, the first that was open) so I had coffee.

I had another long stretch of road but more pleasant as there was no traffic and the road wound around green hills. I left the road for a track along a sandy ridge with views over Los Barrios below and huge mountains beyond; half way along there was an illegible signboard about some dwarf palms so I stopped, and when I looked the other way I had my first good view over the bay of Algeciras and Gibraltar.

I descended to Los Barrios and walked to a square with a church with a stone tower (not white) and orange trees and had a sandwich. I went into the centre then got the bus to Algeciras. 25 kms

4 December Day trip to Ceuta, a pocket of Spain in Africa. The best part was on the ferry seeing two continents at the same time. I walked around the town, walked along a pebbly beach and checked out the fortress walls.

5 December I took the bus to La Linea de la Concepcion, passed through immigration and walked across the Gibraltar airport runway into Gibraltar. On to the city centre where I had churros for breakfast, ordered in Spanish from habit and paid in pounds. I walked along a road to the start of the Mediterranean Steps which go up to the southern peak of the Rock; the steps were surprisingly steep but immediately gave great views over the entire area including the Spanish coastline west of Malaga, the massif of Jebel Musa in Morocco, the eastern side of Gibraltar with beaches, the densely developed western side and Algeciras bay. I stopped at a cave and the route went through a tunnel. At the top (426 metres) I looked around a gun emplacement which still had all the gear. I descended a bit and checked out the views at the top of the cable car and some other fortifications and I was going to leave the summit area by the steps of the Charles V Wall but I was jumped on by monkeys who were sitting on the steps and I quickly went back up. This was a blessing in disguise since I ended up seeing heaps more stuff. 

I looked at many more caves, tunnels and fortifications (some with canons and some without); toured St Michael's Cave which was a vast cave with stalagmites and stalactites; a display about the siege in the 1770s; the WW2 network of tunnels; the 1333 Moorish castle tower. I was worn out after that. I traipsed down steps into the city, returned across the runway to La Linea and had to take two buses to get back to Los Barrios to resume my main walk. The main square in Los Barrios was really buzzing, a nice change from all those quiet evenings. 16 kms

6 December I left Los Barrios and was soon on a dirt track heading towards the Parque Naturale Alcoronales, first passing fields and then into the mountains. I went close to a ruined tower on a hilltop and passed a lake. The trail climbed gradually for hours and I could see a line where a river flowed far below. I cut some switchbacks by going deeper into the forest on rocky paths and I emerged at a lookout with an amazing panoramic view over the bay, La Linea and Gibraltar. The Med was the most beautiful blue. Everything was still. I continued on a ridge with this view then went into pine and cork forest with views of extensive forest covered mountains instead.

There were plenty of mountain bikers on the trail. I met a Spanish couple walking who seemed to be locals and I asked them about the highway part of my route today. When I reached the highest point the trail turned due south and I had an unobstructed view across the Strait of Gibraltar towards Jebel Musa and the Rif mountains in Morocco: tiers of mountains rising above a strip of heat haze.

I descended with some sheep until they took a shortcut that was too steep for me, and after a while reached the highway.

From here I wanted to go directly to my hotel which was on the highway. The road was busy but I managed to cross it and walked mostly behind the crash barrier. For the final few minutes I went onto a side road and I was almost done when I passed some houses and heard a dog barking; suddenly this large dog rushed towards me and jumped up at me so forcefully that I fell over backwards, hard. I sat there in shock. Meanwhile the dog had disappeared; I told the owners what happened and they apologised. Luckily the hotel was very close and very nice. 24 kms

7 December I had to walk along the highway some more but it was ok and I had some nice views over the hills and the Strait. Then I turned onto a deserted road for a long descent to the coast, walking directly towards the Strait but it was a cloudy day so the views into Morocco weren't so clear. Down at the coast I undulated on a narrow track on low cliffs past cows grazing. At sea there were rock platforms all along. On the hills were ruins of sentry boxes (lookouts for smugglers). I had an early glimpse of the Tarifa lighthouse. Just before Tarifa the path went inland and on returning to the coast (still the Med) I had a proper view of the town with its castle.

I walked into the old town and had churros to celebrate.

I walked out of the centre and along the beachside path by the Atlantic Ocean for a couple of kilometres. Cold and windy. Then I returned on the sand and went on the causeway that separates the Med from the Atlantic, leading to Tarifa Island, most southern point in Europe.

The gates to the island were locked so I had to turn back here. I returned to the town and when I arrived at the Cafe Central I decided my walk was done. 20 kms

Total 444 kms