Cave living is dank, dusty and dirty – right? Wrong, writes Sorcha Hamilton, who is an enthusiastic cave convert
THE END OF the world is at the top of a rocky mountain ridge in southern Spain. All of a sudden, the peak gives way to a frightening drop and you’re at the crown of a cliff, the parched, dusty terrain with its looming mountains of rock stretching for miles and miles. The view – as its name suggests – gives the impression that time has stopped.
These are the Badlands of Guadix, where the man with no name once ambled with mule and poncho; where Clint Eastwood fought dirty with Mexican bandits in A Fistful of Dollars.
Guadix is an hour from the coast, but the change in landscape is dramatic. As the turquoise glitter of sea disappears and the lush, snow-tipped peaks of the Sierra Nevada fade, the land becomes drier and turns to semi-desert, green crops and oases dotted between the rocky mountainscape.
At a closer look, you’ll spot little chimneys and even satellites peeping out over the dolmens and hillocks – telltale signs of life below. Guadix is Europe’s biggest cave-dwelling area, with more than 3,000 families.
Nonetheless, I was sceptical about sleeping in one. After all, they’re usually damp, dark – and kind of scary. But this kind of living, while once seen as a home for the poor, is now regarded as rather trendy. The main attraction, of course, is insulation; it is always around 18-20 degrees inside: no need for air conditioning in summer or heating in winter, making them environmentally friendly.
Back in the day – in prehistoric times and, later, when they were excavated by the Moors – the caves were used not only for families, but for keeping farm animals and even as prisons. During the Civil War they were hiding spots. In the 19th century, they became a more widespread form of habitat across classes. Nowadays, most are modernised, with toilets, kitchens and satellite TV.
The first caves we visited were at the Algarves and Camariles exhibition in the Beas de Guadix, where guides welcomed us to this spectacular spot, looking over the Badlands.
Inside, the caves are cool and lit by small lamps. The walls are covered in a special white paint to allow the stone to breathe and prevent it from crumbling. The caves are surprisingly spacious, some with large pits for keeping farming animals.
Most eerie was the cave used as a prison. We put on hard hats and were on hands and knees through some very narrow passages until finally we got to a dusty hollow at the end. There is a sharp drop at the side of the pit – a wonderful view over the landscape, but sudden death for prisoners attempting to escape.
Unlike some of the beach areas, which seem to have a certain tourist fatigue, Spaniards in this part of the country are particularly welcoming. When we arrived in Guadix and asked for directions to the cathedral, an old woman insisted on accompanying us. She cooed at my niece, told us a brief history of the town and kissed us all goodbye.
THE PERSONAL TOUCH is very much a feature of the cave museum in Purullena, a short drive from Guadix. Run by a lovely young couple, Angeles and Paco, the exhibition offers a fascinating, family history of life in this unusual habitat.
Paco, the fifth generation in his family to live in this three-storey cave, pottered around the rabbits, chickens and a donkey in the “placeta” or open ground outside the cave, while Angeles showed us around. The tour started on the first floor, where the couple lives. The kitchen, with a window looking out on to the courtyard, leads to a large diningroom which stretches way into the back.
Angeles, who was seven months pregnant, led us deeper into the cave, through doorways separated by colourful Moorish-style curtains, the master bedroom with its old 1950s wardrobe and dresser, and into the room where the new baby will sleep. At the very back, in a little cavern to the left, there is a pile of rubble – a room yet to be converted. When I ask Angeles if they’re thinking of extending deeper, she says: “Well, we have got neighbours.”
Scythes, rakes, rows of large, ancient keys – to where? you can’t help wondering – a sweet-maker and hundreds of other random and religious artefacts cover the walls on the second and third floor of the museum. Most of it is donated from members of the community, a majority of whom live in caves. Most interesting, perhaps, are the photographs dotted around the walls: a young woman baking bread at the side of the cave; a man standing at the dinner table, his arms folded and a mischievous look on his face.
After a brief wander around the nearby shop where Paco’s mother sells beautiful, hand-painted ceramics, we waved goodbye and headed back to our own cave for the night.
This turned out to be a more comfortable, cosy experience than I had expected. Decorated in rustic, country style, the cave felt more like a pretty, country home – two bedrooms, a kitchen with open fireplace and a lovely, private terrace.
If I did find it difficult to sleep, it was only because my mind was teeming with stories of cave life – troglodytes and moors, families sleeping beside their animals and prisoners, gazing out over the Badlands.
** British Airways and Iberia fly from Dublin to Granada. Aer Lingus and Ryanair fly daily to Malaga, about 90 minutes from Granada. You can rent a car at Malaga airport or get the bus or train from Malaga city centre.
** We stayed in the Cuevas Pedro Antonio de Alarcon, Bda San Torcuato, 00-34-958-664-986, cuevaspedroantonio.es. Prices range from about €50-€60 per person per night. There are lots of caves around Guadix and Granada to stay in, from rustic to more modern, some catering for groups of up to 20 people. For full listings, see turgranada.es.
** Sorcha Hamilton was a guest of the Spanish Tourism Board