Walking with Andalucia Life

Climbing La Concha - Puerto Banus, A Report by Joe Holliday

For many a long year I had wistfully eyed the rugged and very pointy peak of La Concha looming over Marbella and wondered if it were climbable and, if so, how and from where. Then I had heard from some friends who had made the attempt but chickened out of actually conquering the summit due to a precarious arête that has to be crossed in the final 200 metres to reach it.

However, a good opportunity arose when two old climbing mates, Bob and Andrew, from Scotland came down for a holiday and we made our plans to do the ascent on 26 April 2005. Magnificent as this lump of rock looks from Puerto Banus to the south, the south face is definitely not for climbing - unless you are Chris Bonnington. So, we set out from Puerto Banus and took the long and winding road to Istan from where we drove to Alto de Istan and parked at the hotel. This is the start point recommended in the Costa del Sol Rutas Para Senderistas and is probably the only safe way to climb the mountain - although it does entail a 5 kilometre, steeply ascending hike up and an equally treacherous 5 kilometre, steeply descending hike back down again.

After leaving the hotel car park, there is a signpost pointing you off to La Concha and advising that it will take 3.5 hours. This is your last real clue. However, as we found in the initial stages of losing the trail, some thoughtful person or persons had laid a boy scout style trail of mini-cairns along the route. This consisted, essentially, of just a couple of stones perched on top of each other - initially at 10 metre intervals and, as the way became steeper and more difficult to follow, as close as 1 metre intervals.

The trail ascended quickly and steeply from Istan to an elevation of about 800 metres and then contoured round three broad valleys until, finally, we reached a shoulder from which we could actually see the peak of La Concha for the first time. As we started at around 9.00 am in the valley of the Reservoir de la Conception, on the west side of the lower slopes, the sun was only just beginning to cast its light on the hill slopes - and this is when the local snakes awaken and come out from their layers to sun themselves on a stone and warm up to give themselves a wee energy boost. And where better than on the path? I disturbed a small ladder snake, Elaphe scalaris, in the middle of its wake-up sun bathing session when I almost stepped on it - and I was surprised by the speed at which it slithered off into the scrub. This was a juvenile, about 50 cm long and easily recognisable by the black ladder pattern along its back. A few minutes later I disturbed a big one - about a metre long and dark with no markings. (Only the young ones have the ladder mark). Stepping on a snake always gives you a bit of a fright - even though these particular snakes are harmless, non-venomous species. Do not let this put anyone off having a go at La Concha!

The toil and strain of this earlier part of the climb is well rewarded by the wonderful views of the reservoir below and out across the Mediterranean Sea to Gibraltar and the Atlas mountains of Morocco beyond. After two hours of trekking ever higher along our winding trail, we reached a point from which we could actually see the summit of La Concha with its scary sheer cliffs falling off into the valley below. Here we had some food and loads of water. Be warned, there is no water at all along this trail and it is essential to carry your own water and keep drinking it all the way. From here we ascended to the ridge that runs from La Concha to the Cerro de la Zarina to the north east. One and a half kilometres to the north east of La Concha there is a peak called Cerro de la Lastonar, which at 1273 metres is 58 metres higher than La Concha. Being so close, we just had to climb it and so added 3 more kilometres to our journey and a wee bit more ascent before going back and tackling La Concha. I'm sure it was worth it but don't ask me to explain why.

The final part of the trail back to La Concha involves crossing a sharp ridge, or arête, which is about 200 metres long and drops off precipitously on each side. We had come prepared, as a result of our previous warning, and had climbing ropes, pitons, harnesses and karabiners with us. But the day was warm and still and there was not a breath of wind to faze us as we boldly strode out along the ridge, ropeless, onto the summit. The views were spectacular but fading fast as the heat of the afternoon sun was causing a misty haze to form across the sea and surrounding countryside. And so, another little food stop and another litre of water and we were ready to begin the descent. Thus far, it had taken us four hours - spot-on for the guidepost estimate - plus half-an-hour for our little detour to Cerro de la Lastonar.

As we prepared to leave the summit we spotted a madman running up the mountain from the direction of Istan, dressed only in shorts and trainers and, apparently, with no backpack full of energy bars and water. He turned out to be a mad Norwegian who had escaped from an asylum. He did have a little bumbag round his waist containing about 500 ml of water and a map. He advised us that he had made the ascent from Istan in one and a half hours but that he was not particularly fit at the moment. How he'd do when he was in peak condition I hate to think. He had a quick look around and then took off again on the downward trail. (We later found his map on the track - either he'd lost it or thrown it away to reduce the huge weight he was carrying).

The descent proved to be as arduous and difficult as the ascent - not a phenomenon any of us had experienced before on mountains. The trail was hard to follow and the little cairn markers proved to be a Godsend in helping us to stay on track. The sheer steepness of the descent and the slippery scree trail had our feet sliding forward in our boots and putting serious pressure on the old toenails. (Two days later I had a fine assortment of black toenails - most of which I will probably lose soon - but, hey, it's worth it for that much fun).

We arrived back at the hotel, exactly 7 hours after our initial outset, desperate for a large Cruzcampo - but that was not to be - the hotel was closed. Try it sometime. Once you recover it will give you a tale to tell in the pub.

Thanks to Joe for this entertaining and informative article. Please note: Climbing and high level walking in the heat of summer is not recommended. If you decide to do so then take twice as much water as you think you might need, large tubes of sun cream and wear a hat with a brim. Set off at first light (around 7am) and aim to be back by midday.