The giant world of El Torcal de Antequera

Yesterday, Tom and I went on one of those small adventures - the kind you don’t plan for, but somehow remember forever.

We left our summerhouse in Istán early in the morning.
No big expectations.
Just a wish to move, breathe, and see something new.

Our destination was El Torcal de Antequera,
a place I’d read about, but never visited.
Some call it surreal. Others, sacred.
I didn’t know what to expect.
I just knew I wanted to see it.

The giant world of El Torcal de Antequera

"Tiny people, ancient giants, and the scent of wild thyme in the air."

The road up was part of the magic.
We passed romantic white villages, green olive groves, and shaggy hills
that looked like sleepy baby mammoths,
waking up under the morning sun.

And then, the landscape changed.
We had driven so far up into the mountains -
only to arrive at what was once the bottom of the sea.
Millions of years ago, this whole area was underwater.
What we now walk on was shaped by saltwater, pressure, and time.

All around us, the limestone formations began to rise.
Like ancient pancakes stacked on each other by invisible hands.
Or pyramids made of massive stones weighing tons, trying to keep the impossible balance.
It looked as if some playful giants had been here,
casually piling those rocks on top of one another just for fun.

It felt surreal to imagine that nature alone had done this.
No cranes. No hands.
Just wind, water, and a few million years of patient work.

It was breathtaking.
Almost funny.
Almost holy.

“This is my version of mindfulness.”

We chose the medium trail - an hour’s walk between
narrow rock passages and open views.
It was warm in the lowlands,
but up there it was perfect.
Four or five degrees cooler. Breezy. Almost empty.

Most people probably thought it would be too hot to hike.
They were wrong.
It was just right.

We wandered between towers shaped by wind and centuries.
Wild goats watched us from above,
disappearing into places we could never reach.
The air smelled of herbs and warm stone.
And then again - there was this incredible silence.

"Not everything needs to be in focus to be true."

At one point we stopped and sat on a flat rock.
No words. No plan.
Just the two of us, watching the light move across the cliffs.

It felt like something deep inside us
was allowed to exhale.
Like the body remembered something
the mind had forgotten.

"When everything around you is stone, you remember how soft you are. And how strong that is."

Later, we drove down to Antequera for lunch.
Grilled vegetables. A glass of wine.
Nothing fancy.
Everything right.

But to be honest, we weren’t fascinated by the town itself.
We’ll definitely return to El Torcal, though.
Next time, we want to take the longer trail -

the one that climbs higher and offers the magnificent views of Andalusian landscape.
It’s said to be more demanding.
That’s okay. We’ll train for it.

“If the rock is too heavy… just pose with it.”

No, it wasn’t a grand trip.
It didn’t change our lives.
But it gave us something rare—
a sense of space.
Some laughter.
The feeling of love and lightness.
A reminder that we are still here.
Still breathing.
Still allowed to feel wonder.

“I don’t need to be everywhere. But I need to be fully here.”

And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

Want to visit El Torcal yourself?

You can find practical info, opening hours, trail maps, and tour options on the official El Torcal website. It’s worth checking before you go - nature has its own schedule.