Los Sierra Nevada's

It started as just a simple desire to get out and do some hiking. It ended up being one of the better stories I took away from that semester I spent in Spain.

There was a weekend planned somewhere in October when the lot of us, students and professors were to take a long weekend 'educational' trip to Granada. When I originally caught wind of this, I pulled out my little english guidebook to the mountains of spain quite sure that there were mountains somewhere in the city's vicinity. Sure enough, just to the east of the ancient moorish capital were the Sierra Nevada's. The guidebook listed a little two day trip up to the countries highest peak that seemed completely feasible. So getting permission to excuse myself from the last day of touring historical sights, I made plans for a solo trip.

The first sign that things were not going to go just as planned was at 7 o'clock in the morning. I had woken early to catch the only bus that went up to a little resort town about midway up the mountain. When the bus pulled into the highest possible parking lot, the bus driver said something I didn't understand and the few four other people ahead of me got up to get off. The first to get off the bus was a couple of girls who were about my age and as soon as the driver popped open the door, a cold gale wind caught the two girls off guard and pushed one back onto the other.

I got off the bus and started shaking immdediately because it was cold.....I mean really cold. After putting on all my layers, I tried orienting myself and realized I couldn't make out anything due to a very dense fog. By this time the others who had rolled up the mountain with me were already back on the bus. Whatever they came up for that day, the cold wasn't worth it and when I asked the bus driver when he was to head back into town, he replied not until 4 o'clock that afternoon. He actually said much more, but the time of the return was the only thing I actually understood.

At this point I figured I might as well go for a some kind of a hike since my ride wouldn't be leaving for another 9 hours. So I zipped up my bag which now only had in it the guidebook, a bivy sack, some food for the night and the guide book and went wandering around looking for the trail.

After a good amount of strolling around the edges of the parking lot in the thick fog I found a sign for the trail and started along the path sure that once the sun had risen a bit more the clouds would dissipate and blue skies would prevail. I had only walked about 15 minutes when before I knew it, there were two men and an official looking jeep parked in the middle of the trail. It's safe to say they were just as startled to see me walking towards them and when I got closer they approached me and started asking many of questions. Again, I had only been in the country about a month and the Spanish accent is something they don't tach you in American spanish classes so much of what they were saying to me was just noise and lost on me altogether. However what they were able to make incredibly clear was that there was no way I was going to be allowed to pass them and hike any farther.

Frustrated by having to accept that I would be spending the rest of the day sitting in a bus, I turned around and went back down to the parking lot only to find the bus was no longer there. A rational Luke would have turned right around and went and asked what I assumed were National Park rangers for help. The irrational, pissed off and stubborn Luke ate some bread and decided to just walk down the mountain along the road figuring he had 8 hours to figure something else out.

Let me remind you of how cold it was, because at that point in time, that is all I could think about. The wind still blowing so strong that I was having walk at a forward angle lest I be blown backwards and in addition to that I could see nothing beyond 20 around me due to the dense foggy/cloudy weather. I'm not entirely sure how long I walked before I started passing big houses. The type of houses that are rented out in winter to families and groups of friends on ski trips. They were all empty and locked. This I know because I eventually stopped at one for a break from the bitter cold and to mull over my situation.

I considered breaking into the place after trying all the doors and finding them locked because at this point I just wanted somewhere to spend the next 24 hours because I knew at very least the bus would be back up at the parking lot the next morning. But as I was considering my first foray into the realm of breaking and entering, the thick clouds blowing by broke up just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of long staircase that cut straight through the zig-zagging road that led up to the previously mentioned parking lot.

So down I decided to go and much to my pleasure the farther I walked the more houses and condo's appeared. Fifteen minutes later I reached the bottom of the staircase and walked toward just barely visible lights that led me into the middle of a some sort of town square. Somewhat relieved, I was still incredibly uneasy becasue everything was empty with doors closed, and "not open" signs hanging in the windows. There were no cars, no people but the street lights were on.

It was close to noon by this time and I was edging on the realm of hungry. Not yet ready to accept I had found myself in the middle of a deserted resort town, I walked every road, alley, nook and cranny to find somewhere to escape that persistent cold. And wouldn't you know it, just when I was about to give up and just start walking down the road again, I came upon some kind of little cafe and for those next four hours I read Count of Monte Cristo, drank bottles of wine, wrote several postcards and polished off a baked chicken and fried potato plate that filled me to the brim of contentment. The keepers of this little cafe found my presence quite humorous, and again, I couldn't follow any of the dialogue as to ascertain why it was so funny. But the room was warm and I got to sit by myself in front of a huge window from which I could see nothing but clouds blowing by.

With the help of those jovial cafe employees I found where the bus would be stopping in town so I could catch it and be back in Granada to meet up with the others and relate my day's follies with friends on the way back to Seville. But as I sat in the designated spot, and five minutes turned into an hour, and then two hours and the day's light gray turned darker in color I didn't become angry, but just plain disheartened.

I walked back to the little cafe and after a painful session of trying to decipher anything being said I came to understand I had only 2 options left. I could either have a taxi come pick me up that would cost me more than I was willing to pay for a ride OR I stay in the only place open that evening, a 4 star hotel that luckily enough for me, was still offering off-seasons prices that were just less than the cost of a taxi.

So I walked to the hotel, whipped out the plastic and charged what I hoped would be the last of a day full of disappointment. The room I got was of course far to large for just myself, but I took a long bath, read the rest of Monte Cristo and just as I was about to fall asleep that night I got sick. At this point I assumed it was food poisoning from the chicken but regardless I couldn't fall asleep in between the frequent trips to the bathroom so I watched the only channel my antiquated TV could pick up.....some sort of German MTV.

And let me tell you this...if you're ever up for a different kind of 'trip', just try the delirium delivered from bad chicken combined with SUPER WEIRD german music videos...it'll straight mess with your head.

So, believe it or not, morning came. And from my excellent view of the valley below where the city if Granada sat I could see nothing but blue and beautiful skies. I checked out midmorning and as I stepped out of the hotel lobby I was stunned by the bustling little community of shops selling winter clothing, stores selling sweets, and little food markets all around the little village I was in just the day before.

In utter disbelief, I walked back up the stairs to the infamous parking lot to find vendors selling food, drinks and evens kites for kids to play with. The parking lot was jam packed with cars and the grass area all around it was littered with picnic tables and happy families enjoying a lovely day out. The bus was also there and I immediately bought a ticket making sure the bus driver knew I would be needing a ride back down that day.

I hiked a little ways up the trail I had meant to the day before and became grateful to the men who turned me around as it was not only a rocky trail but difficult to navigate even in beautiful weather. That afternoon I made it back to Granada and then to Seville by another bus....exhausted and very tired of surprises.