It really exists. The secret place that, in short-lived flights of fantasy, you’ve imagined running away to. An isolated wilderness, far away from it all, exhilarating, mysterious and shrouded in the aura of legend. It lies at tip of the southeast corner of the Iberian peninsula, extending over parts of Almería, Níjar and Carboneras: a dry, semi-desert landscape of ochres, hues of red and black, which culminates in spectacular volcanic cliffs that shelter wild beaches and pristine bays. A hypnotic setting you have seen in many movies. Cabo de Gata stood in for the Arabian Peninsula in Lawrence of Arabia and Ancient Egypt in Mankiewic’s Cleopatra. It was the European Wild West in countless spaghetti westerns; the place where 007 said Never Say Never Again, and the backdrop to Indiana Jones’s adventures on his Last Crusade. It would be hard to find another area of Spain that can boast as many ecological accolades as Cabo de Gata: it’s a Natural Park, a Biosphere Reserve, and a Global Geopark, but its strange magic could not be further from the cliché of the tourist paradise. This is Pedro Garcia’s Cabo de Gata.