Sea to summit
They were definitely naked. Sin ropa. Starkers. I couldn’t say for certain whether they were doing yoga or tai-chi but it involved stretching. A surprising start to the morning, but apparently La Caleta is a hippy commune as well as a beach. I’d arrived at just the wrong moment. I was staying in the village of Maro, lured by the towering Pico del Cielo rising 1,508 metre above the white washed Andalusian houses. I could well have started at my apartment, but there’s a special attraction to going from sea to summit. Plus, where better to calibrate an altimeter than with your feet in the waves? So I headed the kilometre down to the beach in the morning sun. It was obvious I was out of place. I wasn’t the only one in clothes, but I suspect I was the only one who didn’t live there and the residents looked... View Article