hiking ALONE!! (SO EPIC) (NOT CLICKBAIT)

Friday, September 21st was my first day off after a wild and wonderful beginning to my teaching year. I intended to spend it creating a plan of attack to clear the last few ((painful)) bureaucratic hurdles of moving to Spain, since nearly everything important closes at 1 or 2 pm every week day, and I'm in school four out of five possible days to go. First, I went to the photo shop on the other side of town, where it's not only possible to make photocopies, but also to buy postcards, shop for clothing, have t-shirts printed, and surf the internet for 0.50€/10 minutes. The role it plays in the valley is sort of like how in rural US high schools, the English teacher is also the drama teacher, cross country coach, assistant track coach, and senior class advisor, among other things (Alana Cunningham of Fort Frye High School lore was all of this for me!!). 

Here you can see an example of the vast distances I must cross to do important things

After making an obscene number of passport photocopies, I hoofed it up the hill to the Ayuntamiento to retrieve a form, then stopped by the bank to pay for the processing of a different form. Since I'm the first and only Fulbrighter on my island, I'm kind of flying blind through these steps, which are undoubtedly subtly different from those my friends are taking on the other islands and on the mainland. The poor Commission team has been working nonstop to update our online guide with instructions, but they only have as much information as they can extract from the individual offices if and when they get people on the phone. Multiply the relaxed no pasa nada Spanish attitude by island time and you get ........... very little done!

I finished all of my errands much earlier than expected, so after buying some kiwis, plums, and a papaya from my favorite fruterías, I returned home and ate a big lunch. As the afternoon rolled on, I started to realize I had nothing to do and a whole empty weekend ahead of me. For normal people, this is a treat. For people who operate like Border Collies, this is anxiety-inducing. Lately, I've been trying to acknowledge but disregard my discomfort with free time by following the impulses I get to do things. So, when I looked up the valley and saw the marine layer breaking up to reveal blue sky, I decided it would be a nice time to go for a walk. 

Behind me...

And in front of me!

The very nice French photographer staying in the AirBnB room of our house had told me the day before that he had a great walk up to El Guro, which is the next village up the valley, tucked back into a cliff. He also mentioned visiting a nice little waterfall, and that in total the hike was about 1 hour each way. Perfect! I'd burn a couple of hours and then it would be dinner time, and I would bridge the gap between activities with more activity. I put on my old pair of running shoes and set out for a nice stroll. 

On the dirt footpath running up the valley, I passed multiple farms growing so many interesting things. I saw trees loaded with mangoes, avocados, and oranges, and saw a few vines growing what I think is maracuya (passionfruit).

Look closely and you can see everything I've ever wanted

After a while, I saw a staircase cut into the cliff on my right, and decided to take it. Much to my surprise, at the top was La Ermita de los Reyes, built in ~1515 and strategically hidden in the landscape so that pirates would not spot it from the sea. It was locked tight, but the outside was beautiful enough that I didn't mind at all.



I descended the stairs and decided to continue up the valley just a bit more to check out El Guro. It was siesta time on a Friday, so everything was very quiet. I had actually forgotten about the waterfall until I came across a sign that said "SALTO DE AGUA", and immediately hopped on the trail. The signs made it seem like it was pretty close! I started listening for rushing (fresh) water, which was going to be a sight for sore eyes after settling down in a place where it never rains.

El Guro from the beginning of the trail--already much greener!

Boy, was I wrong!! I hightailed it up that trail like a bloodhound on a scent, especially once the vegetation got a little more lush. Around every bend I expected to see the cascade, and was wrong each time. Time was passing slowly as it does when I'm totally alone, and 10 minutes of walking felt like an hour. The trail markers started to wane, especially once it became clear that the trail was actually just a mostly dry creek bed. I was freaked out about getting lost for a while until I realized that following the creek bed HAD to get me to the waterfall at some point. So I went on.

It was clear that this was a fairly well-trafficked path, with detours cleared around deep water and a couple of ropes and ladders engineered to help with tricky passes. But (probably since it's the low season) I only passed 7 people total (not counting three goats), all in groups heading back to civilization. It was quiet, with very little bug or bird noise, and it was dark, with deep palm shade making me forget the late afternoon sun still beating on the cliffs above me. I checked Google Maps a couple of times to see if I could tell how close I was, but after a while I lost service and then had to force myself not to feel like a forlorn subtropical Gretel.

There were a couple of times I came upon micro-waterfalls and sat down to rest, wondering if this could be what the signs were referring to. But they didn't seem spectacular enough to warrant a walk of this distance, so I went on each time (curiosity, meet cat).

After what felt like 4 hours of walking by myself (I have lost all concept of time so I have no clue if this is accurate), I sat down and weighed my options. Lacking constant positive reinforcement from trail markers, I was losing courage and steam, and was getting nervous about nightfall. It was only about 5 pm, but getting nervous about nightfall felt like the thing to do. I was seriously contemplating turning back and trying again some other day, but then remembered that mama didn't raise no bitc--... uh nvm you get the picture. So I GOT UP, put on a BRAVE FACE, walked 3 MORE MINUTES and what do ya know: there was the waterfall!!!!!!!!

As one German tourist put it on his travel blog, "it's no Victoria Falls", but it was beautiful and enchanting and worth the walk. Though it confounded my camera, the best part was the golden clifftop looming in the background. Amidst the cacti and sun, it's so nice to know that fresh water is coursing down from the mountains and jumping off a cliff somewhere nearby.

The walk back was much more enjoyable with a goal obtained and a familiar path to take. I filled the silence with the closest thing I know to birdsong--Lorde's 2017 album Melodrama--and enjoyed the ride. I did happen to get a few life birds along the way despite not bringing binoculars like a total fool. My favorite was the bouncing Gray Wagtail.

Photo by Thomas Varto Nielsen of African Bird Club

My multiple mid-hike crises paid off when I moved back into view of the ocean just in time for the sunset. As I descended into the valley via the winding street of La Calera, I stopped to buy some jamón flavored ruffles to carb up after the big game. I had, after all, walked 10 miles that day!

Mightily pleased with myself, I settled down for the evening feeling my favorite feeling: much more grounded! I Am Here!