Spain Again 3, Catminito del Rey

Not for those with a fear of heights!

I’m all behind with my blogs so you might get a cluster.

Clare, Margaret, Vicky and I booked months ahead to go on this trip. We set off at 6.15 in the morning and drove to the north west of Málaga. Our destination was at one time, the most dangerous footpath in the world the Catminito del Rey or literally ” The King’s little walk“

We wound up the snaking roads into the Subbética mountain range. It’s the greenest I’ve seen it here for a long time. This area had rain this winter for the first time in about three years.

Then we started to look for the recommended parking but, once again it was all rather vague as the signage seems to be here and we ended up on a forest track. It was good enough and the adventure began.

First along the road (‘up up’ but, not in this case) we go, ‘then a tunnel’ ( I hope you get the reference, Lee will) which in this case is a foot tunnel hewn out of the rock and cuts right through the hill.

That was exciting in itself and then we walked along a track next to a reservoir, through pine forest and up to the entrance to the walk. Once we arrived, it was well organised as we waited for it to open. The number on the trail is limited and it’s just as well.
The Caminito del Rey is an aerial trail built in, onto and hanging off the walls of the Gaitanes gorge above the Guadalhorce river. It’s about 7K in length.
The path was built for access between two bodies of water for the Hydroelectric Power Station at El Chorro, it was needed to facilitate access for maintenance operatives, materials etc.

Works started in 1901 and finished in 1905. A railway was also constructed and in 1921 King Alfonso 13th travelled to the Conde del Guadalhorce dam crossing the trail previously built. This when it started to be called the “Caminito del Rey”,

The path fell into disrepair and in my Lonely Planet guide of 2008 it suggest only going with a suitably qualified climbing guide but after restoration it was reopened to the public in 2015.

Anyway we collected our hard hats and set off. I think Clare had been quietly anxious about it but, really it was quite safe with wire rails and wooden slats all fixed with a substantial steel struts. Looking through the slats onto the original crumbing cement path below was a bit off-putting especially when it dropped away.

The walk was stunning, 100 meters above the river and another 200 meters of sheer rock on either side. Clare wasn’t daunted at all. All of us were awed by it but none more than Margaret.

Margaret was trailing behind us, photographing every few feet. Every time I looked back all I could make out under her hard hat was her apple cheeked grin, she was ecstatic!

The rock had been sculpted into huge cauldrons below us over millennia. Dark rock doves flying everywhere. At one point a high-speed train thundered by making everyone jump. Blink and you missed it! Above the remains of other trails suspended at terrifying heights.

Part way along it became a regular wooded trail and we saw ibex up on the hillside. In this area there was a Helipad and dilapidated buildings, modern and old sat side by side.

Then back onto the rock face. In places the striations in the rock were vertical giving it a peculiar bark like appearance.

The towards the end there was a suspension bridge with a wire floor.

Vicky went first, then as Clare approached it the up draft lifted her fairly floaty dress and the woman behind me in a Spanish accent exclaimed “Marilyn Munro”!

I know Clare was nervous of the bridge but, she was so distracted trying to hide her nickers she marched across until someone stopped to take a photo of the view, how inconsiderate! I went across and then Margaret crossed grinning dreamily. She had had the best day!