Our timing getting to Spain was apparently perfect. Not only did we sneak in just after the ash fiasco but we arrived to perfect blue skies after weeks of rain! Being as we did not know up until the morning of the flight whether or not we would make it to Malaga, we did not book anywhere o stay yet.  When we arrived at the airport we found a pay by the minute internet station and looked up a hostel and the directions to get there.  We hopped on a train and then a bus as the directions dictated.  We told the bus driver where we wanted to get off and he agreed to let us know when we were there.  After a solid half hour on the bus we started getting further and further out of town.  When we asked the bus driver about our stop he informed us that we had missed it about 20 minutes ago.  We then had to catch a bus going the other direction. This bus driver was unsympathetic, making us pay again and refusing to tell us when to get off.  We ended up getting off after 20mins and somehow found the hostel.  Luckily it was worth it because it was by far the nicest hostel we have stayed at yet.  We spent the afternoon on the beach, cooked a nice meal (we finally had a decent kitchen!) and spent the next morning on the beach again before catching a train towards El Chorro.

I say towards El Chorro, not to El Chorro for a reason.  There is only one train a day to the tiny town of El Chorro, which we missed, but plenty of trains to the larger town of Alora, about 20 kilometers away. We got off of the train in Alora and started walking in the direction which we assumed town to be with a sign we had made that read "EL CHORRO." Within 30 seconds we were picked up by a little British guy with John Lennon sun glasses who looked like a serial killer that Kevin Spacey would play.  He informed us that he was not going to El Chorro but offered us a ride to the center of Alora.  It turned out to be a good thing he did because it was a few kilometers up a steep hill just to Alora.  He dropped us off on what he told us was the road to El Chorro.

Taking his word for it, and hoping he did not do justice to his appearance, we started walking down the road with our sign out.  This time it took us all of five minutes and a few hundred feet to be picked up.  The guy who picked us up this time had a much less concerning appearance, plus his mom was in the car so we felt pretty good.  Neither of them spoke any English so it was our first real chance to give our Spanish a test.  I'd like to think we did ok but maybe we were just so bad we couldn't understand him making fun of us.  We were at least able to get across that we were staying at the camp ground and he was nice enough to drop us off right at the gate.  To our disappointment the camp ground was like 17€ a night just to pitch our tent, not exactly a deal.  Luckily it was only a couple of euros more to stay in a air-conditioned bunk house, and being as it was the off season we got an eight person bunk house to ourselves.  Pretty much a no brainer.

We got a good nights sleep and headed towards the canyon for our first day of climbing.  You have two choices for approaching the climbs with in the canyon itself.  Either you can take the Camino del Rey, an abandoned walkway precariously tacked to the side of the canyon 300 ft above the floor; or you can walk through 4 or 5 railroad tunnels.  We opted for the tunnels.  I was picturing us hearing a train and having to feel around in the dark for a crevous to tuck into to avoid being rail kill.  Surprisingly this was not the case at all.  There was plenty of room to not get hit by a train.  We had picked out a crag that was just off vertical that the guide said was the best intro to climbing at El Chorro.  The rock was perfect bullet proof limestone full of really fun pockets.  Lisa was a bit upset because the rock was literally crawling with bugs.  Little red mites of some kind as well as larger silver fish.  I suppose she had good reason because when you came off of the climb you hands were polka dotted red from smashing the bugs.  On another route, Lisa looked into a pocket in which she had just had her hand to see a bat staring back at her.  I was pretty sure she was full of it, but sure enough when I went up I saw a little bat face with chalk on its nose peeking out of the pocket!  At this point we were starting to get a little nervous about the climbing here.  Apart from all of the critters, the climbs were really sandbaged (for all you non-climbers that means much harder than the published grade), we were getting shut down on grades that we would usually cruse up.

We told ourselves that it was just because it was slab climbing (less than vertical) and that is not our forte.  Luckily we were right.  The next day we went to a nearby vertical crag and again got shut down, but at least at grades where we would expect to get shut down.  We had a great time slowly tag teaming the routes to the top anyway.

We decided to take our third day as a rest day (at least from climbing).  Since we had not been climbing our usual five days a week, two days had made us nice and sore.  This was the day we would tackle the Camino del Rey (Walk of the King). This would have been a sketchy endeavour in its hayday, let alone now after 90 years of neglect and corrosion. The walkway was built in the 1920s as a way for workers to access remote sections of piping for a hydroelectric plant and was walked by King Alfonso VIII for who it is named. After the death of a tourist the hydroelectric company officially closed it and removed the first and last 30ft to keep tourists off. Luckily a few years ago some climbers installed a via ferrta system to allow access to the walk as well as to make walking it a (semi) safe adventure.

We opted to start at the down stream end of the canyon. We started by walking out an unprotected ledge that was about 18 inches wide for 30 feet. I guess this part was not protected because it is only 30ft of of the ground; a small hop compared to the beef of the Camino. We next clipped our daisy chains to cables and steel rungs and continued on using a combination of re-bar holds, old rusting railway ties cantilevered out of the rock face that had been used as the beams for the walk, and natural holds in the rock. After about 60 feet of this you head straight up an easy but vertical climb, cruising because there are rungs that double as steps and your protection points. You clip one runner to one, then another runner to the next, alternating runners on every rung such that you always have one connected. At the top of the vertical section the protection ends again for about 30 feet. No biggie because the path here is a wopping 3 ft wide. With a thank god gasp (me only, Lisa was not at all bothered. She obviously does not understand gravity) we clipped back in to cables and we were finally on the original Camino. ( Up until now it was all just shenanigans climbers came up with to reach it!) We went along just walking and leap frogging our daisy-chains for a few hundred feet. The next challenge was a 10ft section where the concrete had completely eroded away. For this section it was a matter of walking sideways on a heavily corroded railway tie that was thoroughly secured to the cantilevered structural members via 14 gauge steel wire, while trying to reach the wall 4ft away for some balance, all the while getting a great view of the river 300 feet below. Have I mentioned even though I am a climber I am afraid of heights?

At this point I was starting to question our decisions. True we were clipped in 98% of the time, but unlike climbing where you can check the bolts and hangers before you clip your life into them, in this cable system you are relying on two bolts, one of which you can check, but you can't see the second until you are finished using it. If either fails you are toast. Luckily all the hardware seemed to be in good condition. After the airy balance beam it was time to cross the bridge. When you are on the bridge you are walking on a 8ft diameter pipe. There are no cables to clip here but not to worry, there are handrails on each side of you. Unfortunately they are so corroded that they look as though they could go at any moment, and due to the wind funneling through the narrow 30ft opening of the canyon, the whole bridge is vibrating like mad.

After the bridge the route became somewhat mundane, just leap frogging our slings and climbing over the missing sections every few hundred feet. At one point we passed a couple of Spainish climbers in neon Lycra getting ready to start a pitch just off of the Camino. There are routes both above and below the walkway, most of witch looked very good, but we did not have our gear and I didn't think I wanted to go through all of this again the next day when there are thousands of other routes to choose from.

The rest of the Camino went very quickly and we were soon deep in the canyon and finished with the Camino del Rey. We hiked down to cross the river and were very pleased to find a couple of orange trees. Lisa enthusiastically hopped up into them to get our post walk treat. We returned to camp via the railway tunnels and found it strange that we ever considered them to be an adventure.

Even though it was supposed to be a rest day we decided to take the afternoon and go climbing. We were so far west in the time zone that it didn't get dark until close to 10:00. After a few routes it was time for our usual 200ft walk to the bar for cheap wine and tapas made by the rude Scottish woman who ran the place.

The next day was our last full day in El Chorro. We headed for Escalada Arabe (Arab Steps) which is a large crag located on the very top of the mountain. The approach took over an hour but it was worth it. It was bullet hard limestone full of huge jugs and pockets and long reaches between them. Our favorite type of climbing. Just as we were about to pack it in for the day I noticed a short route ascending the free standing tower behind us. It was a really fun crack route that because we were in Spain was bolted even though it would have eaten natural protection like skittles. This was good for us since we had just sent all of our trad gear home because Lisa was sick of carrying it. (Can't really blame her as it weights about 15lbs and we only used it once a month or so.) I quickly climbed the route, hooked in to the anchor and Lisa took me off belay for a photo op. I came down and we switched positions. When Lisa was on the top a nearby climber commented that I should have belayed her from the top and he would have taken our picture together. We thought this was a good idea so Lisa stayed on top while I climbed again. At this point we became models as there were several parties of climbers taking our picture from all angles. It was a great way to cap off a good day of climbing.

The next day we were to catch the train out of El Chorro but we wanted to get a few more routes in first. We went to the crag with the shortest approach racked up and both realized at one we had left our Gri-Gri (expensive belay device) at the base of the tower yesterday! I was temped to say forget it but it costs around a hundred dollars and makes life much easier. I said I would run up and get it. Remember it was over an hour approach! I took off running up the trail going in what I thought was generally the right direction. We we starting from a different point then we had the previous day so it was a new trail. After about 10 minutes I came to a sign that read ATTENTION ABEJAS! Hunh, I thought, I wonder what Abejas means. I quickly found out. I came around a corner to find myself in the middle of 50 or so stacked bee hives. It was too late to turn around so I sprinted through. I made it through by about 20feet and sensed one or two still following me. Just as I turned around to swat it away one got me! Not really a big deal, but I have not been stung by a bee since I was 10 and I was really hoping that I was not allergic. I kept running and checking my leg to see if it would swell. Luckily it did not so I assumed I was fine and continued on. After a little while I was in familiar territory and decided to take a bit of a short cut by scrambling up an easy face instead of running around it. About half way up I heard a rock fall and looked up to see a whole herd of Ibex just above me looking at me like “what the hell are you doing here.” It was all worth it in the end though because the Gri-gri was still there and I even got back in time to get a couple of routes in before we had to catch the train.

In typical Spanish style the ticket office at the train station was closed and a sign said it opened at 3pm. The problem was our train came at 2:58pm so we could not get tickets. We figured we were better off just getting on the train anyway. We did. The conductor came around almost immediately to collect tickets. We frantically started trying to explain our situation in our now excellent Spanish. He was not at all concerned and just sold us a ticket on board. We were now officially on our way to Algiceras where we would catch a ferry to Morocco the following day.