Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 2/2

by C. Rochfort‏ Scott

The view is remarkably fine; to the westward, extending as far as Cadiz, and in the opposite direction looking down upon a wide, smiling valley, watered by the numerous sources of the Guadalete, and upon the little castellated town of Setenil, perched on the rocky bank of the principal branch of that river. This place was very celebrated in the days of the Moslems, having resisted every attack of the Christians,[61] until the persevering “Reyes Catolicos” brought artillery to bear upon its defences.

The road to Ronda descends for two miles, and then keeps for about the same distance along the banks of the Guadalete, crossing and recrossing it several times. The surrounding country is one vast corn-field. Leaving, at length, this rich vale, the road ascends a short but steep ridge, whence the first view is obtained of the yet more lovely basin of Ronda, which, clothed with orchards and olive grounds, and surrounded on all sides by splendid mountains, is justly called the pride of the Serranía.

A good stone bridge affords a passage across the Rio Verde, or of Arriate, about a mile above its junction with the Guadiaro; and the road falls in with that from Grazalema on reaching the top of the hill whereon the town stands.

CHAPTER VI.

RONDA TO GAUCIN—ROAD TO CASARES—FINE SCENERY—CASARES—DIFFICULTY IN PROCURING LODGINGS—FINALLY OVERCOME—THE CURA’S HOUSE—VIEW OF THE TOWN FROM THE RUINS OF THE CASTLE—ITS GREAT STRENGTH—ANCIENT NAME—IDEAS OF THE SPANIARDS REGARDING PROTESTANTS—SCRAMBLE TO THE SUMMIT OF THE SIERRA CRISTELLINA—SPLENDID VIEW—JEALOUSY OF THE NATIVES IN THE MATTER OF SKETCHING—THE CURA AND HIS BAROMETER—DEPARTURE FOR THE BATHS OF MANILBA—ROMANTIC SCENERY—ACCOMMODATION FOR VISITERS—THE MASTER OF THE CEREMONIES—ROADS TO SAN ROQUE AND GIBRALTAR—RIVER GUADIARO AND VENTA.

RONDA and the road from thence to Gaucin have been already fully described; I will, therefore, pass on, without saying more of either than that, if the road be one of the worst, the scenery along it equals any to be met with in the south of Spain. The road was formerly practicable for carriages throughout, but it is now purposely suffered to go to decay, lest it should furnish Gibraltar with greater facilities than that great commercial mart already possesses, for destroying the manufactures of Spain—such, at least, is the excuse offered for the present wretched state of the road.

From the rock-built castle of Gaucin we will descend—by what, though called a road, is little more than a rude flight of steps practised in the side of the mountain—to the deep valley of the Genal, and, crossing the pebbly bed of the stream, take a path which, winding through a dense forest of cork and ilex, is directed round the northern side of the peaked mountain of Cristellina, to a pass between it and the more distant and wide-spreading Sierra Bermeja.

The scenery, as one advances up the steep acclivity, is remarkably fine. I do not recollect having any where seen finer woods; and the occasional glimpses of the glassy Genal, winding in the dark valley below; the numerous shining little villages that deck its green banks; the outstretched town of Gaucin and ruined battlements of its impending castle covering the ridge on the opposite side, and backed by the distant mountains of Ubrique, Grazalema, &c., furnish all the requisites for a perfect picture.

Soon after gaining the summit of the wooded chain, the road branches in two, that on the left hand proceeding to Estepona, the other to Casares. Taking the latter, we emerged from the forest in about a quarter of an hour, and found ourselves at the head of a deep and confined valley, which, overhung by the scarped peaks of Cristellina on one side, is bounded on the other by a narrow ridge that, stretching several miles to the south, terminates in a high conical knoll crowned by the castle of Casares.

The road, which is very good, keeps under the crest of the left-hand ridge, descending for two miles, and very gradually, towards the town. The view on approaching Casares is remarkably fine, embracing, besides the picturesque old fortress, an extensive prospect over the apparently champaign country beyond, which (marked, nevertheless, with many a wooded dell and rugged promontory,) spreads in all directions towards the Mediterranean; the dark, cloud-capped rock of Gibraltar rising proudly from the shining surface of the narrow sea, and overtopping all the intervening ridges.