If you study a map of Spain, in the south-east corner you’ll see a strip of empty space along the edge of the Mediterranean. It contains no major towns and barely any roads. Its coastline is equally barren – no ports or resorts; just a few tiny villages tucked away in intriguingly named coves – “raven”, “coal”, “bitter water”. This patch of emptiness is the Cabo de Gata-Níjar national park, a protected haven of desert wilderness on the edge of Europe.
Having been forced to cancel an expedition to the Algerian Sahara earlier in the year, this park appears to be the answer to my yearning for the arid warmth and stark beauty of desert travel. Zooming in on the satellite view, a network of paths appears, suggesting a walking route of around 40 miles (64km) – from the Cabo itself, up the coast, along the cliffs, to the beach town of Agua Amarga. My husband, a keen Iberophile and relentless explorer of España vacia (literally, empty Spain) is always up for a wilderness adventure, so we get in the van and head south.
