I ROSE early from my bed on the outskirts of Comares, eager to stretch my legs on one of the walking routes before getting back in the car.

I opted for the Ruta Lavadero, described as ‘medium difficulty’.

The gentle dawn stroll through Comares was set to the tune of birdsong and a cow mooing down the mountain somewhere.

I said ‘hola’ to a donkey in a garden and set off into the rising sun, which was splashing fuzzy pinks and oranges over the sierras. The route was well signposted… That is unless, like me, you tend to go running up every rocky off-shoot to see how the view differs.

Needless to say, within an hour I was pretty lost and tales of people going walking up in the Axarquia (in particular around Frigiliana) and never returning were present in the back of my mind.

I passed just two other women on my hike and they seemed to be equally struggling with the combination of heat and mountain.

The beauty of Comares being atop a mountain though is that you will always know roughly how to get back there. And so I continued to tread a path over the rocks, through the pine forests and past the farms and luxurious houses, while always keeping one eye on the white-topped mountain.

A few hours of glorious hiking later I found myself back on the road into the pueblo; a sweaty, thirsty mess.