We set off around 13:00 in our luxury motor and tried to ram all the Dago Tossers off the road, in pure Pearshape style. Nearly binned caving for the day when a miss-nav took us to Port d'Alcudia. Sirens in the form of wicker chairs and beer laden tables called us. John almost threw one off when he saw some plastic pictures of paella in a cafe, Dave's threats to sulk if we didn't go caving saw us head off to the Ermita de la Victoria. On the approach we saw a clear blue sea and a scorcio sun in the sky, so kit off, tackle out for
Pendle Skinny Dipping.
The water was bracing and well polluted after the fetid Pendle pits had been doused.
Soon we were in caving gear, none of your TSA pants for us. No Sir, try urban combats and boiler suits for Mallorcan trips. After an hours jungle bash through thick vines and pampas grass we macheted our way to the top of a limestone cliff. Superb view of the bay and mountains. A quick descent to the base of the cliffs saw us at the entrance to THE CAVE OF THE FERAL GOAT. A hot gush of air enveloped us at the cave mouth. Thinking it was either John's arse or a feral goat's breath I looked at the cave guide and saw the temperature in the cave was a baking 18oC. So quickly onwards for our brave boys......
With a searing heat piling out of the
and the goat shit threatening to suffocate us we set off, mad for our first Mallorcan cave. Sand filled chambers, all at 40o greeted us on our first glimpse of the Mallorcan underworld.
Stevey Bloom had presented me with the description back in Blightly, telling me that it was the best cave he had ever been in. I was a but suspicious because Steve cannot remember the way to Lancaster Hole, let alone a cave that he did 4 years ago. However, he is a geezer and so we gave it a bash !!
The cave was all formed on the 40o angle that the entire mountain chain lies on. This is due to a ripple-fold and the cave follows this, probably following a major joint. It was full of old, dry stal, making the going difficult as you looked about at the good stuff whilst avoiding knocking your head.
A quick picture session with
left us tired and worn out, ready for bed. But, being the hardest member of the newly formed "Pendle International Speleological Squad" I spurred on the group with a rendition of, "Father Elliott had seven beards, seven beards had Father Elliott."
A wander around and more pictures led us to the ultimate goal, the
that promised wild arrays of helictites. Exactly what was promised materialized in a spectacular display of helictites ranging from millimeters to feet in length. After many pictures we left pausing only to almost fall asleep in the lovely warmth and dryness in one of the top chambers !! Emerging in darkness left us fighting our way through the Mallorcan jungle to the safety of Tezza's Starship "Beardfest". The half kilo of cocaine that he had stashed was still under the spare tyre, awaiting the arrival of Mr Big to the island.
A splendid introduction cave