“What’s the difference between a canyon and a gorge?” I’m asked, as I’m standing on a small plank of wood suspended 100m in the air and attached, precariously it seems, to a sheer cliff face. Quite honestly, I don’t really care right now, as I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to look down through the gaps in the wooden walkway at the river a LONG way below me. I’m at the start of the Caminito del Rey, the King’s Path, once known as Europe’s most dangerous walkway. As I get used to the vertiginous drops, I realise I don’t know the answer to that question – however, it’s irrelevant as, whether it be canyon or gorge, it’s a pretty spectacular sight!

Encouragingly, the path has now been restored so is completely safe, but there are still moments when your heart is in your mouth as you look over the edge to witness the river gushing through below, particularly when standing on a clear glass platform.

The narrow path is pinned to the cliff’s side and makes its way through this tiny natural slit in the rock for about 4 miles, so there’s plenty of time to soak up the scenic beauty and marvel at the audacity of nature.

Joining me on this incredible hike are my son and his mate Bobby – it’s perfect to experience this with fellow thrill-seekers and adrenaline junkies! These two have known each other through top level dinghy/skiff sailing, surfing holidays, Scottish wild camping and loch swimming……basically, anything connected to water. The “Waterboys” (just had to be, with that introduction!) were meant to be teaching sailing in New York right now, but Covid had other plans for them and I’m the beneficiary, as it’s just lovely having them along for the ride.

We had arrived at the reservoir (formed by one of the dams connected to the hydroelectric power plant that required the construction of this precarious path over 100 years ago) the day before and the Waterboys relaxed by its Caribbean-like turquoise waters while I trekked through the mountain to the ticket booth. This trek has been on my bucket list for years and is booked up months ahead……but I’d heard rumour that a few tickets get released on the day, so was compelled to check it out. Yes, the hour’s hike (partly through a slightly spooky tunnel) was worth it, although it would be a very early start to ensure that we were there in time to get the golden tickets.

By the time we’ve had a beer overlooking this blue-est of lakes, got all our ingredients and cooking implements together, hiked down to a picnic table at the water’s edge and cooked our dinner under the stars, it didn’t turn out to be the early night that we had planned, as we tried to find our way back to Gloria in the pitch black at midnight!

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After completing this wondrous walk, we got bussed back to the start (the pathways aren’t designed for passing traffic, so north-south is the only option) and I marvelled at how the bus driver took on the windy mountain path so effortlessly. At one point, we passed another bus just at the apex of a hairpin bend with just inches to spare, reinforcing my approach of taking these mountain roads at a snail’s pace when behind Gloria’s wheel! A truly relaxing afternoon by the side of the reservoir was in order after our early start and exertions of the morning.

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Now fully relaxed and recovered, we head to Ronda, a place that I’d heard about since my childhood as my grandparents had loved it. Cycling up to the famous Puente Nuevo (the “new bridge” was started in 1759, giving some indication of the character of this charming old moorish town in Andalusia, one of the oldest in Spain), we’ve timed it just right as the sun is close to the horizon and it looks even more dazzling in the late evening glow.

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Another late night, as we had to cycle back to camp (bit of a race UPHILL!) and cook (delicious steaks cooked by George!) and cool the sweatbox down (Endless Breeze fan, best £100 ever spent!). However, the following morning was a relaxed and chilled one, as we had treated ourselves to a campsite (essential about once a week to get everything charged, fill up with water and have a general sort out) and we appeared to be almost the only guests, so had the beautiful pool all to ourselves.

The Waterboys are now in charge of our route and they found an oasis underneath a huge cave for us to spend the afternoon. The water was incredibly cold, so I chose to read my book – and when I heard the lifeguard whistle, I was in no doubt that the Waterboys were responsible. Sure enough, they had found a way to climb up behind the waterfall and jump in!

Very sensibly, the route-planners decide to skirt the huge HOT city of Seville and carry on further to find a spot beside a river – but at the end of a 3 mile long downhill single track road. There was some slight trepidation from Gloria’s driver at this, but nearly 7 weeks on the road has increased confidence and. dauntlessly, I just got on with it. Definitely the right decision, as it’s a wonderful wild camping spot and we enjoy our meal under the stars, listening to the splashes of some VERY big fish …..the talk of ‘River Monsters’ TV show finding a 4m fish in a Spanish lake puts me off swimming til the morning though. However it was worth waiting for and, clean and refreshed, I wait for the Waterboys to cook my brunch!

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Whilst they decide on our route for the day (so long as it involves one of the items from the title, then we’ll all be happy – I’ve put in a request for a vineyard stop tonight too, if so I’ll be doubly happy!), I look up the answer to that initial question; a gorge is a deep cleft that usually contains a river whilst a canyon is a cleft between escarpments. Gorge it is then!

• Thoughts so far:
• Canyons and gorges are both deep valleys – a gorge sometimes is a ravine which is narrower than a canyon. Confused?!
• There were 5 deaths at Caminito del Rey around 2000, causing the government to close it.
• Ronda is home to Spain’s oldest Bullring and is divided by a ravine with the Grande River at the bottom…..but doesn’t then that make it a gorge?!
• The Sierra Nevada Mountains of Andalusia are the only place in Europe where you can ski in the morning and bask on a beach in the afternoon.
• Portugal is the 11th largest wine producer in the world (hic! 😝)

Footnote: Written in the midst of grapevines in the Alentejo – wish 2 granted!