Spain Again 5, Finca Walks and Acebuchal

We had a few shorter walks around the Fincas and coast but not the precipitous walk that scared me..

A Finca is a bit like a croft as far as I can see. A plot of agricultural land with a house. Here in Andalusia it is dotted with them up the sides of hills and mountains. Most are are white with tiled brown tiled roofs. Most I suspect are holiday homes in this area.

The flowers at this time of year are amazing with names like Spanish Vetchling and Moroccan Knapweed. We saw lots of butterflies, one in particular called a Festoon.

The walk I particularly want to mention is to the little pueblo (village) of Acebuchal.

In August 1948 Francisco Franco’s Guardia Civil, evicted the people who lived in the tiny little village of Acebuchal just north of Nerja and up in the wooded mountains. It was sudden and they were forced to leave everything behind and some had nowhere to go.

The villagers were supposed to be and probably were, sheltering and supporting desperate guerrillas some of which were local men who were fighting against Franco’s regime and still hiding in the mountains since the end of the civil war in 1939.

Up until then this little village was poor and a stop off for muleteers taking goods between Nerja and Málaga along the mountain tracks.

In the 1950’s the last guerrilla was shot above a nearby village of Frigliana (in front of his daughters apparently) and his body was paraded through the streets much to the horror of the locals.

In 1975 Franco died the people of Acebuchal, or what was left of them (because many had died or just remained away) started to return to their derelict ruined village. Up till 2003 there was no electricity in the village and a track cars could not travel on.

Now only a handful of people live there but most of the properties have been restored. It’s rather misleadingly called the lost village or the village of ghosts. There is one unmade (for the most part) road that goes through the village and I would not care to drive it.

Anyway this was the destination for one of our walks.

We were up early and arrived at a carpark near to the town of Competa. It was by now just Clare, Chris, Margaret and I (Vicky and Anna having gone home). It was a lovely day and we began our walk along a track into the Parc Natural and a gentle climb into pine forest. We forded a clear stream leaving Margaret with a wet foot but hey ho! The walk meandered around the hills and around the base of El Fuerte which I already had attempted to walk and was on the list Clare and I need to later in the week. It was very imposing from this side, quite sheer in fact.

This was the easiest part of our walk and we ambled down to the village. I had tried to book a table at the only bar and restaurant but never got a reply so I was very thankful they made some space for us when we got there (we had packed lunch just in case). The food was special, I had wild boar, Margaret had Fallow Deer!!! It was truly a fantastic place, sitting outside, Chris in the sun and the rest of us in the shade. Chris was a lizard in a former life you know, hahahaha.

Reluctantly we moved on and out the other side of the village. We walked up and out of the Valley and it’s pines into the arable Fincas.

However there was a slightly challenging bit to our walk as we turned off into a rocky uncultivated area. It was silent and it felt slightly eerie to me. The shotgun cartridges didn’t make me feel much better!

The path also became precipitous with loose stones as we descended into a ravine, the walking poles came in really handy here. Chris has a more dodgy knee than me but it was slow going for all of us. At the bottom of the ravine is a shallow stream which we crossed and started the steep climb up through an avocado orchard, if that’s what you call it. Disconcertingly there was a large gate across when we finally made it onto a track and although there was a way around it was right on the edge of a rather steep hill and all of us had to use both hands to hang onto the concrete post to get past it.

Finally a long steep hill up to the car. A six mile walk completed.