I've been blethering on about the GR 130 for some weeks now. Poor David. It seems that recently all my sentences either end or begin with 'The GR 130' or at least feature somewhere in the middle. In mitigation, quite a few of our guests for the bed and breakfast accommodation are 'doing the GR 130' and I can't help but feel a little bit of input on my part would make it a more enjoyable experience for people – especially when they don't have the benefit of living here and we do.
For example, I have noticed that many websites suggest that you walk right from Barlovento to Santo Domingo – the hardest part of the entire route and right across the north, all in one go. Perfectly possible of course, but you would probably need to be scooped up and poured into your own rucksack at the end of it.
Ah well, that's all OK if you like pain I suppose. Not to mention an eleven hour walk, almost all of which is up and down ravines.
Hence me doing a new website and my own suggested itinerary for the route.
Anyway, imagine my surprise when I said this morning, out of the blue (well, whilst preparing breakfast for our guests), 'why don't we catch the 10 o'clock bus to Gallegos and walk back?' and the reply was, 'OK then.'
Not that we haven't walked this section of the GR 130 before – just that it's been a couple of years. And it's a relatively short walk given that we needed to be back for more guests arriving. Ah, playing hookey when I should be making beds - lovely!
The adventure begins with catching the bus. There is something completely surreal about it – from the speed it is driven at to the subject matter of its occupants, which generally revolves around goats or potatoes. As usual, the bus was fairly empty, just us and Miguel who thought our plan hilarious and the further away we got from our start point the funnier he thought it was.
'Ha, ha, your house is so far away,' and 'Ha ha, your going to have to walk all the way back again,' and 'Ha ha, ...,' etc. Since this was the entire point, I thought it pretty funny too.
The other bit I like about the bus journey is when you get to Gallegos and the bus driver takes you at great speed down a steep single track road, closely lined with houses. 'You have to watch out for loose dogs,' he calls out to us as we cling on to our seats. Yes, we know from previous experience when there was an oncoming vehicle that at any given second we will make a screeching stop and we all go flying off our seats. It's like having a bit part in a disaster movie. The bit you don't want.
And then of course, arriving in Gallegos, is another adventure. The people there are so different. Our neighbour says it is because many are Cuban or Venezuelan. I can't explain it myself without being rude about certain individuals but you do get the impression you have just blundered onto a hospital ward where everybody is suffering from some sort of physcotic illness. Or just that the party started long before you got there. Enough said.
So of course I haven't even explained yet what the GR 130 is. Well, it is the ancient route which goes right round the island, is approximately 200km long and takes seven or eight days. Preferably more. I call it the Palmathon. David and I however are taking a laid back approach – completing it in something like 8 years. No, no really, this year, we promise to tackle the southern sections that we haven't done yet ....
The walk was wonderful you will be pleased to hear. For most of the time (not the steep, slippery bits with a vertical drop off), I had a daft grin on my face and exclaiming, 'It's just amazing ... what a view ... just look at it ...' and so on. Luckily, we took 71 photos and now that we are back, I can look at the them all again, still with a daft grin on my face.
Photos:
Spying on La Fajana
Going Mexican in Barranco de Franceses
Back at Franceses, consulting the map for the next adventure
