So Thibault announced we would be ascending Spain's second highest peak today, Veleta, at 3394 metres - 11,135 feet in old money (compare highest peak in UK, Ben Nevis, at a paltry 1,345 metres). Some nice views on the drive up....
We drove up to a ski resort, parked and set off, noting warnings about taking layers (it can get cold at these elevations) and water (as there is nothing between the car park and the peak but rock). Actually the temperature was never anything but pleasant, although increasingly breezy.
Now the thing with this hike (and it is a hike more than a climb) is that there are alternative routes. There is a very well paved road all the way up, but it is incredibly winding. And there is a much more direct "cross-country" route straight up along the rocky ground. And it is very rocky. There is not much in the way of vegetation.
As you can see, there is a very distinct path. While I certainly needed a few breathers on the way up - there are convenient stops as you climb another stretch of trail and hit the winding road as it crosses - I felt I did pretty well, as nearly everyone else coming up was a lot younger than me, and few were passing us. (Of course Thibault will only moan at how slow I am as he strides out in his 6 foot frame at half my age....)
Further up we gave up the path and stuck to the road. For a good but to me surprising reason. Altitude sickness. Something I had never experienced before but Thibault had. Symptoms of nausea (I think more Thibault than me) and dizziness - I certainly felt very light headed. And eventually common sense took over from pride. We gave up about 200 metres from the peak. You really don't want to be dizzy on a mountainside at over 3200 metres. I guess the problem was that we had not acclimatized - just driven up high and set off.
So back down we went.
And returned to Granada for a further mooch around and dinner.
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