Day trip to Calp and Penyal d'Ifach (the rock)

Today we went on one of the day trips that looked good when we looked through the brochure I had picked up at the Denia Information Centre. We headed south towards Calp which is an overpopulated and very highly developed town on the Costa Blanca. I'm sure it has its high points but it didn't appeal to me, what did was the huge rock out the back, which rises directly from the sea to 332m. From some angles it looks cut off from the land, but in fact it is well attached. It is now a nature reserve complete with sea birds, interesting flora (we didn't see a lot it being autumn), and reptiles. We stopped on our way up at the information/exhibition area, had a brief look around before climbing higher. We noticed an archaelogical dig happening part way up, (Roman ruins) but there were ropes around discouraging visitors, so we carried on.

The track initially was like a wheelchair accessible path (if you had the umph to push up the gradient) but the surface was pretty good and width also good. It zig zags its way up the lower aspects of the rock until it reaches a tunnel which was put through the rock to the seaward side by private owners in the 1920s.

Inside the tunnel was dark, very dark, but you could just make out a rope tacked to both the left and right sides of the tunnel to give a guide for reaching hands. Once you took a step inside the tunnel it was clearthattheropewas a very necessary piece of equipment as the rock inside the tunnel (sandstone apparently but more like marble or soapstone) had become highly polished after many decades of foot traffic (they have 100,000 visitors a year, multiply that by two feet, by 100 years and that's a fair bit of polishing) and weathering. It was like trying to ice skate up/down a 30 degree slope. 

Hilary and diana looking over the coast to the north. The rock in the background

A view from partway up the hill, looking over Calp, with salt lake (salt flats) in the back-ground

Once we negotiated the tunnel, we were confronted by a very treacherous track over more glassy sandstone with no barriers to the sheer drop and a slight cambre towards the drop. Our shoes had no traction at all, it really was a challenge indeed. Hilary and Diana decided, rightly, it wasn't for them, they don't enjoy cliffs at the best of times, and I mustadmit even I was tempted to turn back on more than one occasion. As it was I took my shoes and socks off, and headed on up the track in bare feet, leaving my shoes and socks ucked into some vegetation not far from where I left Di and Hilary. My bare feet, though bruised and battered by the time I returned an hour or so later, were very helpful in letting me grip the surfaces, and feel a lot more stable.


Di and Hilary exiting the tunnel having gone through from the lower side.




Looking back to the tunnel exit and track, and north up the coast 



Wild kitten (and mother and sibling also up there) at the summit, track in the back ground.

At the summit (self-timer on camera)

At the summit looking north

At the summit over looking Calp

Looking down on Calp

To the south

To the north

The track up to the summit was steep and very rocky at times, I skipped along quite happily, many people feeling the need to comment on my bare feet, including one German man who went on a bit telling me how dangerous it was to have bare feet (I looked at his socks and sandals and thought at least it isn't ugly), I'm not sure what his issue was, but have since read about venomous snakes, scorpians and poisonous toads and salamanders, but I'm not sure if that was his concern or if his concern was warranted. As I said to a very pleasant Spanish man who heard the conversation, I'd rather take my chances with bare feet and snakes, than slippery shoes and a 300 metre drop onto rocks below.
As the photos show, the views from the summit were absolutely stunning in all directions, and it was peaceful (until the nosey German man with bad taste in footwear arrived).
I returned to where diana and Hilary had been waiting just at the tunnel entrance, they seemed in good spirits, chatting and watching dragonflies. Hilary had practised her ice skating by negotiating the tunnel about 15 times down and up, getting more confident with each tr...... until she virtually danced her way through, barely touching the guiding rope.

One of the golden dragon flies Diana and Hilary watched while I  was gone

The rock from the harbour at Calp

It was getting on towards 2pm so we stopped beside the salt water lake, which used to be used for salt production but is now a reserve of sorts. We watched the flamingoes feeding and flying, Hilary tells us that they are only pink ecause of their diet, they start off a browny colour (we saw the youngsters and they were a browny colour) then they get their grown up feathers, but as they age (and depending on what they eat) they go more and more pink through red. Some of these ones were quite bright but most were predominantly white with a blush of pink and redder areas around their wings.

Flamingo having lunch

After lunch we took the road south to Altea, which is a pretty little town with Moorish influences. Most of the town was closed (siesta time) but we browsed around the streets, looked at the outside of the church, admired sea views, helped ourselves to a pomegranite from a tree in the street (and ate it sitting in the sun).


The flower of a dwarf palm, looking down on it



Bouganvillea in Altea

Village street looking north west towards the rocky mountains

One of the domes on the church

Looking east over the Med

Another shot of more bouganvillea

We drove directly back from Altea, we had been going to stop to look at some ceramics shops but it was getting on towards seven, and though we are slowly progressing towards Spanish time, we still wanted to prepare dinne and have time for some play afterwards before bed.