June 7
It is truly breathtaking. We chose to stay in Capileira because it is the gateway to the Spanish National Park nearby. It is also the jumping off point for the highest peak in Spain proper - which of course Nic and I wanted to hike. Mulhacen peeks over the town with its snowy face inviting the brave to come and take a look. To give us enough time for a good hike, we planned two days here. This proved wise as we both really needed a bit of down time and the ability to find a grocery store.
We expected some natural beauty. We did not expect this. It is truly breathtaking. Not just the mountains, but Capileira is one of the most beautiful towns I have ever seen. Carved into the mountainside, blanketed in flowers and cats, Capileira is magical.
We booked Hotel Real de Poqueira, which is located down the world’s tiniest street in the world’s tiniest town. Nic bravely drove as far as we could down into these steep, narrow roads WITH a stick shift. Yes, Ramona is a stick. Of course she is. The real Ramona insisted the Europe uses stick shift cars. Everyone knows that. “Who’s in charge?” Not her, but whoever is insists on stick shift cars. It was a stressful experience. I think we are both scarred for life - and Nic grew up and learned to drive in England. Even he will tell you this was intense.
Here are the tiny streets and the adorable little houses stacked upon each other.
Our hotel boasts a beautiful pool too. The back opens into the community garden of the town. Many folks were drinking and enjoying their Friday night just next to us.
The hills are very steep. We walked all over town trying to sort out our food situation. Our key goal for today was to figure out how to eat in Spain. We found a grocery store where I learned NOT to touch the produce. We found a pizzeria, which was amazing.
We also found so many adorable cats throughout town.
Just steps from our hotel is the town church. Nic and I took a few minutes to sit in the silence together and appreciate the glory that Catholic Churches in Europe are. I thought a lot about my mother and this tiny church. I thought she would love it, so I took pictures for her. The church bells chime every hour outside of our room. It is almost perfect in every way.
It is important to now mention our planning for our hike the next day. As soon as we arrived in town, Nic checked in with National Park office. “Not now,” they said in Spanish. “It is siesta. Back at five o’clock.”
Because I was obsessing over groceries and that was also closed for siesta until five, we did not get to the park office until almost six. There was no one to be seen. Nic searched the web for maps and information. I sat and stared at the Flamenco dancer in pink pants who seemed lost.
Not long after, a very rushed man came to the office, opened the door and immediately picked up the phone and began shouting in English to an American on speaker phone. They were arranging some kind of plan for next week. It was very confusing because Paco (that was his name) could not locate the email of the man on the phone. This was crucial information. None of us were sure why. He rushed about the office shouting at the man on the phone and at us wanting to know why we were there. We tried to explain, but there was a lot going on. Paco was running back and forth from his computer and his huge paper calendar on the counter, while also trying to sell us a map in Spanish. He hung up on the man at least twice and called him back demanding he text the email. The man insisted that he had, in fact, texted the email to Paco, but would do it again. Meanwhile we managed to ask if we could hike the mountain tomorrow. “Impossible.” Paco told us without explanation and turned back to his phone conversation about next Thursday, which was, apparently, possible.
We waited hoping for some explanation as to why our hiking goals were impossible. Paco, who, it became increasingly clear was very, very drunk. Nic and I were not sure what to think. Finally Paco turned to us and said, “Shuttles full tomorrow.”
We asked if we could drive up ourselves.
“No.” or “Well, yes, but is very long hike.” Paco explained.
How long? Paco was not sure. Keep in mind HE WORKS for the National Park.
Did he offer us other ideas for hikes or options to climb this mountain? No. He turned back to his conversation with the American on Thursday who is named Greg. Or maybe Graham. Paco was pretty drunk.
We left the office deciding that we thought we could drive up and hike it and we are experienced hikers. We can hike ‘very long hike.’
Further research revealed it is a 20 mile hike. Can we do that? Yes. Did we want to? Maybe not. Not surprisingly, Capileira calls to many a hiker, so we found some other hikers and chatted about our plan. They said yes, you can do it. Is it hard, not really. Is it long? Yes.
Nic and I decided to wake early, go back to the park office and see if we could steal a seat from someone who did not show.
There we were with cafe au lait and forty-five other hikers AND Paco, who was a little less drunk, but not a lot. Nic managed a semi normal conversation in which it was revealed that drunk Paco had oversold the shuttle bus and could not even fit the people he had promised to take up the mountain, much less us.
So, we drank two more cups of coffee and pondered what to do. Actually Nic pondered and searched the net, I uploaded pictures. Everyone has a role. Stay tuned for what almost happened in our lives…
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