The Harvest Moon

As the sun started to rise in the Southern region of Spain,called Andalusia. I brushed of the sand from the beaches of the touristic Costa del sol, and headed inland towards an area called  “The Serrania Ronda”  Where I planned to spend my time in the mountains and surrounding villages, where time stands still. To witnesses the rise of September's full moon that is named the Harvest moon.

As usual I had no real plan in place to how I was going to get there. In the end I hitchhiked “hitched” a ride but got dropped off a little short of my destination. It was a really beautiful mountain village just on the border of the Serrania Ronda, a place that captured my heart in that blissful moment, so I changed my plan and decided to spend the rest of the day and night there. As dusk started to set in I found a great spot to camp, fortunate enough to witness the sunset and the moon rise whilst having a brew. This was the start of what was to be a brilliant adventure.

The next day I headed out to where I originally planned on getting to. I hitched a ride at a petrol station after talking to someone who was filling their car up with fuel, by asking them if they were going that way and making them laugh by doing the funky chicken dance “it helps” I Later arrived at another village where I was greeted with warm gestures of “Hola” and smiley faces. I headed to the bars and parks in search of Information on the surrounding area knowing that these places are the local haunts of the community, and that the old boyz who were born and bred in these parts are a good catch who hold secrets from the past, and can leed you to some pretty cool adventures. After meeting some great people and sharing some interesting stories and laughter, I got a plan up together with a rough idea to where a trail started from, and where I hoped to roughly finish back  within view of the ocean. I grabbed my supplies and set off in search for the starting point eager to reach a nice spot for the coming “Harvest moon”

Going a little wrong to start with, nearly ending  up in the jaws of a snarling snapping unhappy dog, that looked like a bad version from the dog out of the comedy film “Beethoven” I remember thinking to myself “My, what big jaws you have” Before back tracking rather rapidly hoping there were no holes in this rather tatty looking fence, that seemed to hold this unhappy hound behind it, from having his snack and using my bones as toothpicks. “However I did have a backup plan that worked for Crocodile Dundee when a water buffalo wouldn't move out his way;

Soon after I found the trail that took me upwards into the mountain range. As I wandered on the trail I passed through Spanish cork oak forest, before heading to higher ground. “I believe the Spanish harvest the bark for corking wine bottles and making cork flooring” It was a great day with a lot of varied terrain from small forest, to mountain passes and olive tree plantations, river beds and much more trekking around 28km. Without a map, but with some common sense along with the information from the village locals, the day worked out nicely. The day’s temperature was bearable whilst the humming sound of mother nature played music to my ears. I even managed to have a dip in some water holes that I found along the way to freshen up from the day’s trek, along with a few rest stops whilst enjoying the panoramic views of the Spanish countryside.

Time was  moving on, and I was now reasonably close to a village. I started to look for a place to camp where I was attracted to a high point that looked appealing, and from where I would get a view of the sea. Should be the perfect spot for the full moon “I thought to myself “ I had to scramble a little through some rough ground that had a lot of gorse bush and loose rock underfoot . It was not the easiest of climbs, trying to find a trail that would take me to what seemed out of reach at that moment in time, but still I battled through.

After a while my battered and scratched legs that took the brunt of the harsh Spanish scrub found a goat's trail that took me to the higher ground whilst getting a nose full of the wild aromas of the Spanish great outdoors.

It was a beautiful evening, as I climbed higher I looked out to a mountain range in the distance, the colors had started to change from their daytime dazzling oray of terracotta colours, to a more sutul light misty colour. Whilst looking out I saw the Spanish imperial eagle (Aquila adalberti), also known as the Iberian imperial eagle, along with the giant Griffon Vulture’s, that have a wingspan of 2.8 metres and weighing in at around 8 kilos. Gliding in the air with their impressive wing span across the valley and above my position, they looked so peaceful and tranquil, The Griffon’s came closer and closer to me, so I took my pack off and had a rest using my pack as a backrest. I lay there comfortable in the warmth from the early evening sun, letting my mind wander whilst watching these magical mystical creatures. I started to imagine what it must of been like back in the jurassic time when dinosaurs ruled the world, and the flying Pterodactyl  properly called “pterosaurs” ruled the skies. What a world it must of been “I remember thinking to myself “

Some of these Griffins seemed to be landing behind a huge rocky outpost, that was to the right and just below me, but I couldn't really see. With my camera in hand  I snuck down to a point where I thought i’d be able pear over the edge to get a better look. As I peered over the edge to my amazement, there was a giant Griffin just the other side perched perfectly on this ledge, overlooking the valley like a church gargoyle.  I'm not sure who was more startled me or the prehistoric giant. I was that close it was almost like I could see myself in the reflection of his big black eye, where I am sure this Species must of felt the same. He hunched down took another look at me, then launched himself off into the open air circling back around to view this strange creature that had popped his head out to say hi. I moved away and lay back down watching the magnificent birds for a while with the mountains in the background, and the smell of the aromas that filled the open air before finally moving on.

I reached the top of the mountain adventurly in time to set up camp. It was the perfect spot ! I had the sunsetting in the west, mountains that stretched from west to east, with the moon appearing  northeast over the ridge of a mountain that later showed itself over the mediterranean sea, to the south I could see Gibraltar, and behind Gibraltar in the far distance Morocco, that lite up in a golden orange color as the sun started to fade behind the horizon in the west.

I sat on rock watching the sunset, a cloud passed in front of the sun for a moment that made it a deep red colour at the bottom, and a orangy yellow at the top, how beautiful it was. With a gentle warm breeze floating up from below the valley floor, drifting in from the warm mediterranean sea that glittered in all it’s glory like a bowl of diamonds from the last rays of the day's sunlight, was a truly warming experience. As I sat there on my rocky outpost I could hear and see the soft distant sound of daily life from the village way below me coming to an end with the odd dog barking, cars moving from place to place snaking around the windy mountain roads to reach where life would take them to. The sound of the insects still busy going about their daily tasks for survival and the mountain goat bell’s with the sort warm mediterranean breeze blowing gently past my ears where the noises that kept me company whilst dusk settled into night.

The moon took it’s place and a new scenery stepped into show it’s oray of light and glory along with the hidden gems. The moon's light now taking over from the sun's rays sparkling of the sea, distant villars now appeared that were hidden in the strong sunlight of day, came out of their hiding places all lite up like palaces from the Arabian world, and it’s riches.

Now the daytime insects a sleep, it was time for the bush crickets to keep me company  by rubbing the upper and lower parts of their wings together making that all too famous chirping sound called “stridulating”  I sat there watching the moon and stars picking out the different star constellation as time gently drifted by. I finally hit the sack and slowly started to drifted off to sleep whilst listening to the army of mosquitos trying to penetrate my impregnable fortress, that sounded more like a second world war film as the Japanese dive bombed Pearl harbour, whilst aggravating them by smiling and blowing air in their general direction knowing full well I was not on there vampirish “A la carte menu”  that they seemed quite upset about.

I woke very early the next morning as the full moon beamed into my face like a bad wake up call that most have experienced in life, from the switch of a light where we condemned the invention of electricity. My weary eyes now use to the moon's dazzle, I lay there for a moment in time lapping it up whilst  watching through the mesh of my tent, I then decided to get up and sit on a rock that overlooked the Med. It was stunning to witness such a phenomenon, with shadows that played amongst the rock formation to where I was sat. I eventually packed my kit after watching the sunrise and started my descent to the village and it’s inhabitants.

As I finally reached the village I stumbled into a bar, with my proud, sweaty smelling body, dirty rags and rough travelers look. I ordered a coffee where I got talking to some locals at the bar who were of to work. They mentioned a place in another area where they spoke of canyons and waterfalls that sounded irresistible. It just so happens that they were going in that direction,

And that is another story !  

I hope you have enjoyed this week's blog whilst sipping on your coffee or gulping down a smoothie. Why not get involved and give me some feed back and spread the word to keep me blogging.

Thanks to the people who gave me some advice on “grammar” And to those willing to help. “I still need to work on this;