Walk Sunday 8 November 2015 Durcal cave

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Hi.
This week was a little different from normal, we had arranged for Conchi and her nephew to lead the walk down to the Baños in Durcal, and then on to Cueva de Moros which I was looking forward to exploring never having visited before. Unfortunately I sprained my ankle in the middle of the week and was unable to go. So Conchi was promoted to La jeffa in charge.
This week the very biased report was written by Mike.
What a wonderful day. Not a cloud in the sky, the rain a distant memory, hardly an ounce of breeze, and a lovely senorita to lead us. What more could a body want?
Twenty six people pitched up outside Flamboyan to follow Conchi, and she didn't disappoint. We set off at a brisk pace up the Durcal High Street; at the Iglesia San Blas we collected Conchi's nephew and headed off down to the "Agua Medicinales." I've been down this road many times and always finished up at some rather uninspiring, ancient, Arab warm baths. Conchi had other ideas.
Approaching the valley bottom she veered off on a track to our left, which I had never noticed before. The brand new sign proclaiming "Banos Grandes" sort of gave the game away. In no time at all we were down by a real dinkum pool, bubbling away and breathing off steam. At this point I thought of offering anybody who went in for a swim a  Brownie Point, but the image of twenty odd, ageing naked Limpers flapping around in the water kept my mouth shut.
Next stop, down in a lovely shaded enclave on the river bank, was the cave; a great gaping hole in the cliff face far above us, well at least ten meters up. The wise ones stayed with their feet firmly planted on the ground while the more adventurous ones, ( I can think of much more appropriate descriptions), climbed up the cliff into the cave. The rest of us held our breath, or shut our eyes, or simply turned away. After an eternity, one by one they started to straggle back, some triumphant, others battered and dirty; the less agile needing assistance back down the cliff. Robin was one of the last to stagger out with what at first looked like the top of his head caved in, but a splash of water and a tissue, applied by our own Florence Nightingale, in the form of Julie, soon had him patched up. Miraculously Jan accounted for all twenty eight of us, all correct and present, nobody left wandering for all eternity in the depths of the cave. We continued our journey.
The small banos, which some of us had seen before, were a bit of a let down after the splendour of their larger cousin and the cave. So we set about the climb back out of the valley. Those who proclaimed at the start that this was going to be an easy walk were rapidly silenced as we trekked up the steep hillside. Some managed it a little easier than others, no names mentioned for obvious reasons. Lunch was taken at the remains of the old castle at the top of the hill, and unlike last week, we were able to see our sandwiches in front of our noses.
On the gentle amble back to Flamboyan I did a snap poll amongst some of the walkers. The feedback was unanimous. Conchi got one hundred per cent approval rating, and everybody I spoke to would be delighted for her to lead us at any time she wished.
Thank you Conchi for a lovely morning. The best walk ever!
Mike.
ps. Don't take it too hard Stuart, we are really looking forward to having you back; but we do need you to explain how you managed to sprain your ankle sitting on the toilet reading a book. On second thoughts, don't bother, too much detail.
We walked 8.1 km and climbed 365 metres.

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