Tag Archives: Landscape

Cami de Cavalls day 14 – In the Bini

Sunday September 26 2021 – After a reasonably  comfortable night, but a breakfast which using the word “adequate” to describe would count as fulsome praise, we set off on our way, officially some 14km, to Binibèquer Vell; there was one small diversion planned to the Cami route. As ever, if you want just to se the route and some photos, there’s a video of today’s walk up on Relive.

Having said that, the first thing we did appeared to be a diversion from the official Cami trail.  The interactive map which we had been consulting occasionally on our way showed a straight road, whereas the route markers on the lampposts and street signs took us off to the right.

The interactive map track is the orange path in the above. We decided in the end that the Cala en Porter Marketing Board had got to the official Cami route organisation to make sure that we passed a viewpoint so we could see a couple of attractive views.

We rejoined the straight bit and then plunged off into the undergrowth, heading steeply down a rocky path and then, yes, up another steep path for some farewell views of Cala en Porter

on a fairly broad, level path.

The diversion we had planned to visit was a little way away from the Cami trail, and we had a choice of a country trail down to it, or to keep with the Cami path.  Jane opted for the latter, on the basis that it might be an easier surface.

Ah, well, never mind. We got down anyway and went to the “cove caves”, a necropolis in use to bury people from the 11th century BC until the Roman invasion, after which it was used for a wider variety of purposes.  All one can see from the cove is caves in the cliff.  Thanks are due to Jane for the second photo which was quite difficult to get because it was more or less directly into the sun and I frankly couldn’t be bothered.

Once again on our way, we passed views of a hillside community called, I think, Binicalaf, that we didn’t actually visit

before the path took us into a change of landscape to farming country.

We saw another wild tortoise, a bit larger than yesterday’s

Before the path suddenly jinked left

Past some impressive rock formations

and into a place called Es Canutells

at the top end of which is a pretty substantial tourist village.

The next couple of kilometres were, frankly, dull and hot; simply ploughing along a road and occasionally diving out of the way of oncoming traffic (including some motorcycle gangs – it seems that there are commonalities between England and Spain when it comes to lads on a Sunday morning).

There were a couple of handsome properties to see as we toiled along, such as this one

which we assume is a farmhouse – it appears that farming is a lucrative business to be in here –before we once again headed onto country track.  It’s worth recording that the road itself gave us a clue as to when to head off into the country, via a red-and-white band on the road surface itself which stopped when we were due to turn off.

We stopped for a rest and an apple to fortify ourselves before heading off through farmland again, marked out by some fortified farmhouses such as Sargossam (now disused, it would appear)

And Santa Caterina (still, it would appear, operational).

We also passed other farm buildings and evidence of fortifications, so it was clear that at one stage this was an area where the farms had a role in defending against various marauding riffs.

This last place had a nice vegetable garden outside, mainly ploughed and awaiting new planting, but with crops at one end such as chillis and lime and persimmon trees.

The path then led us (gently, fortunately) down into a ravine called Barranc de Biniparratx

(where it became clear we were on the flight path into Mahón airport)

and up again until we caught sight of the town marking the end of this stage of the track, Binisafuller.

Sadly, much as we would have liked this to be the end of the day’s walking – it was very hot in direct sunshine – we had a couple of kilometres to go to reach our overnight accommodation. There were some handsome houses to look at as we passed

and a nice view over the beach.

There was clear evidence of fairly brutal clearing of bushes to keep the track passable

and we stumbled along this and back on to the road which fairly soon led us to our overnight stay – the remarkable place called Binibèquer Vell.

This is a sort of designer fishing village, which we had visited before a couple of years ago, and so we were quite looking forward to staying here, to satisfy our sense of curiosity about the place, which we regard as being Menorca’s answer to Portmeirion, the unique Italianate village in Wales used as the set for The Prisoner and also a popular tourist destination. “Vell” means old in Catalan, by the way, which is rather an ironic word to use for something built in 1972.

Our first task as to find a reception desk among the jumble of buildings, so we wandered sweatily around for a while past apartments, restaurants, car hire desks and supermarkets before Jane spotted a small sign saying “Reception”.  After the usual Charlotte Hayward discussion, we were allowed to get to our room, a small studio apartment – with no Wifi! Shock!! Horror!!! – where we could hose ourselves off and relax for a bit.  We went out to the (Spar) supermarket to get milk, water and other supplies, so that we could award ourselves a Nice Cup Of Tea (oh, and an ice cream!) and thus fortify ourselves so that we could find some lunch.  The main body of Binibeca Vell looks good from a distance, but it’s very much a beach- and swimming-focussed enterprise, with a very touristy feel to it.  So we went a short way, back to where I took the above photo, to a restaurant and “pool chillout bar” called Sa Cuina, which was altogether calmer and more restrained – but also no Wifi! (I begin to detect a pattern, here).  Jane opted for refined food like tapas and salad, and I had a burger; and the beer (me) and gin (both of us) were very, very welcome indeed.  We’d only covered 10 miles, but most of it was in direct and sizzling sunshine; I’m only glad the going was not too difficult, as this would have made it a very trying day, I think.

Today was our penultimate day of walking the Cami, which must mean that we will complete the circuit tomorrow as we make our way along the last 18km back to where we started in Mahón .

Our stats for the day:

  • 10.08 miles walked
  • 210 metres climbed

Therefore we’ve covered over 130 miles, according to Garmin. I have one pair of clean socks left which I have carefully saved for the last day’s walking, but I’m certainly going to need to order a fresh sock stock for continuing exercise once we get back to the UK, as the ones I’ve been using here are utterly shot.  Remarkably, though, we are not suffering from any walking-related injuries from this trip, despite the miles covered.  You’ll have to tune in again tomorrow to find out how the day unfolded.

Cami de Cavalls day 9 – Wet Wet Wet

Tuesday 21 September 2021 – Fuck me, what rain! Oh, and wind!

Much of what follows is a long moan about the utterly, cataclysmically shitty weather we had to stumble through today.  So you can avoid several paragraphs of my moaning by watching the route and photos on Relive. But you’ll get a lovely dose of schadenfreude if you read on instead.

There had been a few straws in the wind about possible rain today, and so I looked at the various weather forecasts available to try to understand how the day would play out.  The UK Met Office suggested heavy showers with possible thunder; the Spanish website suggested by the Cami360 folk forecast grey skies with some rain.

They were both wrong; and I’m never going to trust the Spanish site again. Based on its more sanguine forecast and the choice of available dry socks I decided to go out in the running shoes which had proved so comfortable for walking in during the first five days of the trail.

This turned out to be an unwise choice.

Our pick up time at the hotel was 0830, for a lift back to Cala Morell, where we would start a 20km walk of easy grade – two stages of the trail, 9 and 10 – leading back into Ciutadella, where we were staying.  In our visualisation the day before, we thought we could have a nice easy walk to the outskirts of the city, where we could see lots of restaurants and bars, and stop for a Nice Lunch before tottering back to the hotel to sleep it off.

This turned out to be wrong on almost every level.

Deposited at the Cala Morell necropolis, we thought we might as well check out the one cave we hadn’t seen the day before; and very impressive it was, too.

Then we moseyed on to the start of the day’s first stage and set off along what looked like a reasonable path – maybe a bit rocky, but surely not too bad.

There was something of a sharp shower of rain, but it passed soon enough, and we carried on our way, amid some great light and bidding farewell to Cala Morell.

There was even a rainbow, nicely framing a stone hut, to wish us on our way.

I noticed a slightly ominous-looking cloud formation that clearly was carrying rain, but thought that the wind would carry it away from us.

Reader, I was wrong.

From this point, it basically hurled it down with rain for the next four hours.  Occasionally, the rain’s ghastliness was amplified by gale force winds, the only redeeming feature of which was that these came from approximately behind us (over the course of the day we met several groups coming the other way along the trail who had therefore to walk into hissing rain and lashing gales; our combined misery was such that we didn’t even spare the energy to acknowledge each other’s existence). The mix was leavened by the odd occasional flash of lightning and crack of thunder, much of it quite loud.

The rain was bad enough.  We had shower-proof jackets with us, which weren’t rated for a category 5 rainstorm. The occasional periods of gale force wind made things worse. But what really made progress not only miserable but even somewhat unsafe was the surface.  The rocks became slick, the ground turned to slippery mud, and the general misery of the weather was compounded by the general fear of taking a tumble on the rocks.  (I did slip and fall once, but “only” into a mud bath; it could have been much more serious.)

Yes, there were sights along the way:

stone huts, presumably used for storing food for farm animals;

caper bushes amid the rather bleak landscape;

a load of rocks with a cross on top (which, later reading showed, commemorates the wreck of General Chanzy’s steam boat in 1910 with only one survivor, but at the time I could frankly have cared neither one jot nor one tittle about);

a sight of the lighthouse which signalled the end of the first stage (dear God! is there another one to do as well?);

and some sheep, sensibly heading for shelter in the lee of a wall near the track.

But mainly, there was the rain, which by this stage had turned the path into a small river.

(I have video proof of this, but my soul rebels at the task of uploading it somewhere to share with you; just use your imagination, OK? And stop laughing, will you?  It’s not funny. No, it’s not.)

By the time we got to the end of the first stage

the road leading to the lighthouse had become a river in flood. Jane had suggested that we go and take a look at the lighthouse, but I demurred as politely as I knew how at the time, which was to say “Fuck off”.

The ghastly bloody mud-and-rocks path carried on past a few other sights.

We think this was a Naveta, something the Talaoitic-era folk used as a burial chamber, and which had possibly been modified to use for animal feed.  But it was clear that The Authorities didn’t want anyone exploring it, as any possible entrance hole was blocked; it was also (had I mentioned this?) raining, which lessened my interest in further research.

By this stage, I had completely lost interest in taking photos as we went along, or indeed in  anything other than simply getting into Ciutadella and outside a stiff drink, but Jane, bless her, took some shots of one or two things as we went by:

another stone hut;

a rather impressive rock arch, Pont d’en Gil;

and the outposts of civilisation, at which the heart leapt, for two reasons – there were only three miles to go, and it would be on lovely smooth tarmac. It would also, according to our original plan lead us past several possible refreshment stops, but since we were soaked to the skin and (certainly in my case) frozen to the marrow, this seemed a less tempting proposition than it had the previous evening.

Also: we had reached the “beach communities” outside Ciutadella, similar in principle, if you’ve ever been there, to Palma Nova on Mallorca or the cheap end of Paphos on Cyprus.

The restaurants and bars were (a) not very tempting and (b) unsurprisingly quiet.

The rain had obviously taken the local drains by surprise.

Eventually, the walk led us to some coves and inlets close to the city, such as Cala en Brut,

(which, incidentally, was the scene of further evidence of how unexpectedly heavy the rain had been, even if it was now easing to the point where I was prepared once more to take photos

I call this “wet stonewalling” and the policeman didn’t want me to take any photos.  So I reassured him by gesture and smile that I hadn’t.)

Playa de sa Farola

(you can see, in the distance, the ferry which brought us to the island a couple of years ago and started this whole thing off)

and Cala en Busquets.

And then we were right at the outskirts of the city itself

and then could cop an eyeful of the great view over the old town.

This was the end of the stage, and so all we had to do was to get ourselves to our hotel and hose off the accumulated mud, blood and weariness of the day.  We had covered 12.83 miles, or very nearly 21km, in five-and-three-quarter hours, which, given the conditions and the fact that neither of us sustained any serious injury was pretty damn’ impressive. Yes it was.

Having shed the worst of the day’s detritus, we headed out to find some lunch and had some tapas at a place called, rather unnervingly, Es Pou; but it was nice food, good coffee and lovely gin. Of course, by this stage, the weather had changed.

and long may the sunshine last (although I’m not too optimistic about tomorrow).  When we got back to the hotel, there was a lovely vignette of a balcony across from ours where a bunch of Spanish ladies were gathered having a good old gas among their rain-soaked clothing as it dried around them.

And thus the day came to an end.

  • 12.83 miles, or 20.66 km covered
  • 223 metres ascent, none of it actually steep, but all of it wet

Cumulative distance is therefore some 72 miles in seven days.  We’ve now covered the top half of the island and come half way round, from Mahón in the east to Ciutadella in the west.  Tomorrow we start on the southern half – a series of longer but less arduous days. Officially our next stage is just 13km and the forecast is for some rain, but not, we hope, the biblical floods we saw today. I’ll finish with the answer from the Cami360 team when we asked them about tomorrow’s weather: “The weather for tomorrow is similar to today with showers and localized storms. We hope that not like today”.

Amen to that.

Please come back then and find out how the day developed.

 

Cami de Cavalls day 8 – An Acropolis? No, a necropolis!

Monday September 20 2021 –  Fuck, I’m tired!  Judging by the way I feel, yesterday’s walk enervated me somewhat, and today’s really finished the job.  We covered two stages of the Cami today, nos. 7 & 8, going from  Es Alocs to Cala Morell, a total official distance of 9.76 + 4.90km, which (I had to use my phone’s calculator for this) is 14.66km.  Add in the 2.2km that we have to do before the official start, and this becomes 16.86km, or a smidge over 10 miles. Up and down (official ascent 350metres). In the lovely, bright sunshine.

You can, as usual, do the tl;dr thing and view the route and some photos on Relive. But this blog post will be much more interesting. No, really.

Actually, on paper this shouldn’t have been too bad, but, as I say, I think the combination of yesterday’s steepness and today’s length has used up all of my surplus energy.  Anyway, here’s the story of the day.

We were up relatively betimes, because we had to find a supermarket and some water to refill our bottles – Menorca’s tap water is not, we are told, top quality, and so we are forced to sacrifice our principles and buy bottled water.  The Loar did a reasonable breakfast – good choice of fruit, poor choice of cereals, but we were able to make ourselves a Nice Cup Of Tea and construct Marmite on toast, so that was OK. I had a schoolboy snigger at one of the signs by the buffet which at first blush I read as “our ferrets”.

I also took the chance to pop up to the roof of the hotel for a photo of Ferreries, since the sun was in a more favourable position than yesterday.

We found water and some more apples for snacking as needed, and David from the Cami360 picked us up promptly at 0900, along with a pair of German ladies who are clearly on the same overall schedule as us, and dropped us off as near to the Cami as he could – as I say, some 2.2km down a rather unrewarding forest track

lay between us and the formal start. Which was uphill. Of course it was.

There was a mixture for a few kilometres of fairly sharp ascents

with decent views from the top

with some sections of the track showing signs of formal maintenance/improvement work.

As we walked along, we heard an odd wailing sound, which turned out to be a young goat

presumably yelling for his/her mother, whom we could see much further away and apparently paying no attention. Well, who wants a needy youngster, eh? Our track took us near this goatlet, who was pretty nifty at avoiding appearing in a photo.

It turned out that I needn’t have worried too much about getting goat photos, as there was a small herd gathered around the track, giving the opportunity for lots of photos for lots of people who were also coming down the track.

Jane heard some munching in the bushes….

There were a lot of people coming down the track as we went up – we’d obviously hit rush hour of people heading to the Es Alocs beach. There were even cyclists and runners among them – definitely the most crowded we’d seen any art of the Cami so far.

We passed a track maintenance gang

(gawd alone knows what the drive to that point was like) and it was clear that this section of the track had had lots of work done on it.

There were, as usual, abrupt changes of scenery as we went along.

including a view of Muntanya Mala, Menorca’s highest cliff (200m tall)

which I’m glad to say we didn’t have to climb. Instead, the trail wandered for about 4.5km through forest

and farmland,

which was pleasant enough but which afforded very few interesting things to share with you – just a couple of cavalls

the odd imposing building (probably a farmhouse)

a construction which we’re told is probably a grain or feed store for animals

and some estivating snails

lots of estivating snails.

We overtook the pair of German ladies and also a group of Spanish people who appear to be walking the track on approximately the same schedule as us.  The Spanish group were quite jovial, especially one chap, who was being very voluble.  Still, I suppose if a group is large enough you’re bound to get one tosser.  (Jane has just informed me that the group doesn’t need to be very large… I dunno what she means…) We gradually left these behind as we reached the end of Stage 7, at a place called Algaiarens, which is a beach, and evidently a popular one, to judge from its car park.

Sadly, it wasn’t popular enough to warrant anything so civilised as a bar or ice cream stall, so we decided to crack on with Stage 8, to take us to our pick up point in Cala Morell.

The track took us past a cove called Cala de ses Fontanelles, which, we’re told, is normally used as a small harbour, but not so much so today.

We passed the Vierge Fontanelles herself, at a nice little barbecue spot

(there she is, bottom left), and started on the remaining track which led – oh, what a surprise – upwards.

But at least we got a nice view of the clear blue water in the cove.

Once we cleared the cove, the track was a rather unrewarding and very stony path leading relentlessly upwards.  The tedium was relieved a little by a cyclist coming by.

He had to get off and carry his bike up some of the rougher bits, but he cycled along most of this section of the path

and this is the terrain he was alternately carrying his bike and cycling along.

I have to ask the rhetorical question – WHY?  I for one can’t see the fun in going cycling somewhere that you know you’ll end up occasionally carrying your bike.  But it’s obviously A Thing and it doesn’t do anyone else any harm, so good luck to him and his ilk.

The path really was unrewarding to walk along, particularly since we were tiring by this stage, and I found I stumbled a lot as my brain couldn’t make the correct connection between my eyes and my feet to avoid tripping over rocks.  Eventually, though, we saw Cala Morell in the distance

and were reasonably soon walking on lovely smooth tarmac down towards the centre of the town, past some handsome buildings,

some unusual street lights, which looked rather like owls from front-on

and a roundabout which hinted at the town’s Talaolithic heritage.

Cala Morell is a strange mixture, having a Neolithic history that goes back centuries (see below) but also a set of very modern buildings which have rendered it into a prime tourist destination.

We walked to the end point of the stage, just so we could say we had done it, and then sought refreshment, which we were both sorely in need of.  A couple of drinks and some patatas bravas at a chiringuito called Baristiu (which, by the way, gave us the above view of the town) injected a little energy back into our tired frames, and so we went to take a look at an amazing example of the town’s historic roots – the late Talaiotic period necropolis, which dates from 500-100 BC, but which was apparently still used for several centuries after the Roman conquest of the island.  We had a few minutes before our pickup and so here are some photos wot I took of the hypogea where people were buried and an overview of the scope of it.

The Cami360 pickup point was, conveniently, just by the necropolis; we were picked up promptly and driven into Ciutadella, where our accommodation was at the Hotel Alfons III. This bills itself as a(nother) family hotel, but seems none the worse for that.  We had the usual Charlotte Hayward conversation on arrival, but otherwise were soon in a decent-sized room which should be a good base for the three days we are staying here – rather nice not to have to pack up and go after a single day.

So, here we are – properly showered, a little rested and not hungry enough to make us want to go out for dinner.  Ciutadella is a lovely city (we visited a couple of years ago) and not only should we have opportunities to reacquaint ourselves with it over the coming days, but also We Will Be Back for a few days of proper relaxation after we’ve finished walking the Cami. If we make it, that is. at the moment, I’m fairly comprehensively knackered, possibly even too tired to go to the hotel bar for a gin. That’s how tired I am.

Here are some stats for the day (which is, of course, the Cami plus a few extra kilometres):

  • Distance walked in total – 11.57 miles
  • Total ascent 426 metres
  • Therefore we’ve travelled damn’ near 60 miles in 6 days

and my Garmin tells me that I expended as many calories on the walk today as yesterday, and yesterday was acknowledged to be a tough day; so I feel my tiredness is to a certain extent justified.

Tomorrow (if we wake up, that is) we will do sections 9 and 10 of the Cami, and thus have walked around the top half of the island.  It will be a long day – 19km/12 miles, around the same distance as day 1 but allegedly easier, and with the possibility of a lunch stop en route.  So I hope we survive it with dignity. Why not come back tomorrow and find out?