HENEVERI GOHIKING,I GO
withmyfriendBigAl.
Ouradventureshavetaken
usfromtherainypeaksof
Snowdoniatotherainypeaksofthe
Highlands.Heisanexcellentmountain
guide,notleastbecausehedoesit for
a living.HehaspocketswithTardis-like
properties,outofwhichallforgottenitems
canbesummonedonrequest.Andwhen
thingsgowrongona hike– whenyou’vegot
a facefulofrain,a bootfulofcowpatand
areweepinginaudiblyina mountaintop
gale– BigAlcomestotherescue.Hecan
pickyouuplikea catgrabbinga kitten
in its mouth,and deposityou by the fireside
inthenearestpub.Then,aftera fewpints
youcanpretendit neverhappenedandyou
aretheShackletonofmillennials.Thisis
whyI’veneverwalkedalone.WhyAlwalks
withme,I’mnotsure.Perhaps it’s practice
forguidingschoolgroups.
BigAlandI planneda hikingtriptothe
summitsoftheAlps.Thistimeit wasserious.
Wehiredspecialistequipment– snowshoes,
probes,anavalanchetransceiverthatlooked
likea Tamagotchi,whichwouldbeep
sympatheticallywhenallthesnowonthe
Matterhorntippedonourheads.Therewould
beglaciersandfondue,yodellingandraclette.
Itwouldbethebiggestadventureofalland...
‘Ican’tcome.’BigAlcalledmetheday
beforetosayhewasill,andcouldn’tmake
it.Hedidn’tsayI’dbedaftgoingonmyown,
butI gota stronghintI shouldputina call
totheChamonixmountainrescueteam
fromthePretAMangeratLutonAirport.
Keennottolosemyholidaytime,I logged
intotheairline’swebsitetochangemy
flights,planningan alternativewalk.It
offereda phonenumberwhenI selected
Inverness,butnoonepickedup.The website
crashedwhenI putinBarcelona.
Bydefault,I stumbled onto Mallorca the
followingday.
Ifyou’venevergoneabroadwithunder
24 hours’notice,thendoit.Itisa thrilling
experience.Boardinga flightwiththe
exhilarationofa criminalontherun.
Openinga bagmerrilypackedaftera tripto
thepub,todiscoversomeunrelatedsocks
anda pencilcasefullofcheese.Finding
myselfina placeI hadn’tGoogled.And
inadvertentlyarrivinginoneofthemost
beautifullandscapesI’dneverheardof.
TheSerradeTramuntanaisa mountain
rangeabouta 30-minutedrivefromPalma
Airport.Atitslowerlevelsareorchards
heavywithripeningfruit,andvillages
whosenameswhisperofthedayswhen
Moorsreignedovertheisland.Risinghigher:
forests of holm oak and Aleppo pine, silent
butforthejingleofgoatbellsandthetwitter
ofwinteringbirds.Andatthetop:sharp
limestonesummits,snagging the winds that
blowfromIberiatoItaly.
Itisa bitofOldWorldMediterranean
pickledforeternity.Butwhat’smore,the
rangesitsclosetothemostinfamousresort
inMallorca.Stagdos;crazygolf;barswhere
youcan drinklike a fish and vomitlike
ageyser– allcanbefoundclosetothe
southernslopesoftheSerradeTramuntana.
But they could not feel further away.‘Thisis a bitof OldWorldMediterranean, pickled for eternity’