A Much Needed Vacation to El Chorro, Spain

The sun didn’t seem to rise very early and most folks get a lazy start from the dark mornings.  The sunrises were spectacular those times I was awake to behold them.  Colors split from a varied skyline scattered by faint high clouds sending out a peaceful morning vibe throughout the camp setting a positive tone for the day.  Normally the only thing that would spoil it was someone smoking in the kitchen or burning a gourmet breakfast.  There are certainly other ways to ruin a perfect morning and one of the campers shyly offered up this tale at some point during the trip.  He had waited for a restroom and was unable to get in between folks taking showers and ended up going for a walk deep into the olive tree grove on the step terrain of camp.  He ended up slipping on loose rock after relieving himself only to fall and dirty himself and clothes, we laughed for quite some time when we heard that story.  Anyway that is not the way that you want to begin a day.

Each new day began with a walk to a new crag, making new friends and getting really pumped on each and every pitch.  When there was no breeze and it became too hot, a nap in the shade was a welcome rest to the hiking and onsighting.  My confidence on the stone and with the style of climbing grew with each new route and the fitness slowly began to come back.  I also became accustomed to the hike home ice creams in the fading colors of the day. 

One of the things that surprised me was how well everyone cooked back at the finca.  I remember when while living on the road years ago how my meals were simple affairs of rice and beans, always consisting of the cheapest way to get carbs and protein.  At the finca arriving after dark everyday I was always greeted with smells of fabulous meals that were not typical climber fare.  These dinners took longer than six minutes to make and required more than a pot and a lid.  Fish were scaled, fine cuts of steak or chicken were prepped and sautéed and fresh vegetables were chopped and cooked.  My companions knew how to do it right. 

After too much climbing and when we were in a dire need of rest, the days were easily filled with mini trips.  One easy trip is to head back into Malaga on one of the trains that pass through town for groceries, Picasso, or the famous Moorish castle.  Spanish meals always were satisfying and just like anywhere, you know when you are going to get a poor meal.  What I really noticed was that the Spaniards enjoy, coffee, smokes and tapas.  I can say that there were times where it was difficult to find a restaurant in place of eating tapas.  Tapas are like finger food and when you desire a real meal with a salad and meat of some kind, tapas don’t cut it.

One rest day trip took us to the nearby landmark at the entry of the Mediterranean, Gibraltar.  I didn’t know much of what I was getting into as usual and quickly discovered that it was owned by Great Britain and that there was a real city there on the “island”.  It is a place where oil refineries dot one coastline and beautiful beaches the other.  Where a giant mountain stands out of the water and where many fought for the control of the straights of Gibraltar.  A great tour took us through St. Michael’s cave, the great World War siege tunnels, Moorish ruins, and the local monkeys.  I would have to say that one of the highlights of the day was when a monkey tried to grab the bag of cookies on the dash of the rental car and my friend reacted quickly punching the little guy out the window.  My advice to others is to not walk around with food or even leave it insight when you park you car.  The word is that there is climbing on the mountain and even a guidebook, I am sure more of a novelty but it looked ok for an outing.

The next day took us across the sea on a large boat to step on African soil.  The trip was cheap and we were there so we decided why not hit another continent and see something new.  Our feet were tired after the hours of walking and later that night searching for a quality restaurant.  The streets were filled with many locals and it was cool to experience the holidays in Europe.  Everyone is so excited to be out and about people watching, eating, consuming, you know being American!  There were many displays and local venders filling the alleys adding to the great experience. Again, the second hand cigarette smoke that I received will surely give me cancer in the near future.

We woke early only to be locked into what some would call a tenement hostel, but the price was right and I didn’t find any bed bugs so we tried it out.  After nearly breaking down the door and missing the boat across the sea someone showed up to let us out and we stood in line like tourists to get on the boat to yet another adventure.  What I noticed was that other then tourists there were no women traveling across the Mediterranean.  I guess it’s a cultural thing.  The place was full of men and it wasn’t long before my friend was being offered hash by some cross-eyed man local in a nearly drunken stupor.

The African soil well let me tell you was… wow.  Well, it may not have been so dramatic and we walked till our feet were sore taking in the touristy sites and hit the local market for food and headed back to Europe.  The rest of the time at El Chorro went well, there was a wild and catered New Years Eve party that thumped until I woke up in the morning and I guess that everyone had a great time because the crags were empty the next morning.  In the last few days we had the opportunity to bum rides on the twisty roads that make a veteran driver sick to nearby crags and right when I was in need of something more I was shown crags that made me want to stay for weeks.  Steep huge north facing caves with wild and exciting routes of all grades and styles.  When I hopped on the plane home I knew that there was some exploring to be done and Spain would be the site of my interest.

Rob Pizem is one of the most enthusiastic climbers you'll ever meet. When not climbing he is a High School teacher in Salzburg, Austria.