9th April to 21st April 2026

I had many preconceptions of this island based mainly on lurid tabloid stories of Brits gone riot, and you could indeed see the possibilities of such in the ridiculous ‘English’ and ‘Irish’ pubs and restaurants. However, I was greatly surprised, for it is a lovely, pretty place in the main, with plenty of remote areas still safe from the tramp of tourist feet.

Ghost towns and villages, rows of empty villas and apartment complexes windows and doors boarded up, greet me at every small town and village, however. But this is not unique to this island, of course, I see the same thing everywhere. From mainland Spain and Portugal to every island I’ve been to – though much less so the Channel Islands, the Isles of Scilly and Bornholm.

Away from the tourist hotspots there are lovely little coves, dramatic limestone and sandstone cliffs with their aromatic pine forests, miles of people-less trails, hard or easy – though that has a lot to do with the off season. Beautiful weather, sunny and dry for the most part – a population that speaks English (who doesn’t these days). Reasonable food and accommodation and, though I never used it, a public transport system that would get you to the trail heads with a bit of planning.

It was surprisingly green, especially in the north, unlike Crete or the Canaries. This speaks to the landscape long gone. Of agriculture that spread to every possible inch of space, requiring threshing circles high in the mountains to save people humping useless chaff all the way down to market. Of new growth forest, probably less than fifty years old in most cases, the product of a fresh enlightened government, after the fascists, or of the luxury to restore what once was with the new found tourist revenue.

As a trek, I would say mostly enjoyable – we forget the pain. With some moments of peace and that, almost spiritual, state that transcends the hurt and aches. I would thoroughly recommend – but only in the off season.