Genoveses beach is vast and empty, a long stretch of pale sand backed by volcanic cliffs, with not a sunlounger or beach bar in sight. The surf breaks are frothy and turbulent, spurred on by the wind and there is nobody here to watch them but me. I have walked three days to reach this point, so it feels good to rest for a while in the shade of fragrant pine trees.
I’m hiking through Spain’s Cabo de Gata-Níjar Natural Park, a rugged but beautiful protected area in Andalucía’s deep south where desert plains and ancient volcanic peaks meet heavenly wild beaches.
It’s a region well known to Spaniards, particularly during the summer months, but virtually unheard of by most British visitors.
In 2024, Spanish visitors accounted for 136,157 overnight stays in the area’s hotels, compared to just 3,624 from the UK, according to Spain’s National Statistics Institute. Many of the 19 million Britons who visited Spain in 2025 headed to the Balearics, the Canary Islands or Barcelona, destinations that are now grappling with the consequences of mass tourism.
The protected landscape is little known among British travellers (Photo: Inntravel)
Cabo de Gata could have looked very different. Without the determination of local landowner and environmentalist Francisca Torres Díaz, affectionately nicknamed Doña Pakyta, this Almerían region would have been swallowed by the Costa del Sol-style development that consumed the rest of the Mediterranean coast in the 1960s. Pakyta, who owned 3,300 hectares around the peninsula and championed public access to the coast, blocked every approach from developers until the land was protected.
Today, it’s a Unesco Biosphere Reserve. Jet skis are banned in seagrass-threaded waters. Parking near the most popular beaches is strictly limited in summer, and many coves are accessible only on foot. Walking is simply the best way to see it.
However, here the network of stony goat tracks and dry riverbed paths aren’t waymarked, so I’ve come on a self-guided trip with tour operator Inntravel, which provides detailed route notes and maps.
Over three days, I’ll trace a 45km route that connects the abandoned gold mines of Rodalquilar, in the centre of the natural park, to the fossilised dunes of Genoveses and Monsul, following volcanic hills and secluded bays that have almost no British visitors.
First, I strike out towards the salty tang of sea air, where cloud-scudded peaks slope down to pretty Mediterranean coves dusted with yellow poppies. After dipping a toe in the water at little-visited Playazo beach, I scramble up stony paths to a high ridge to the 18th-century watchtower Los Lobos for my first sweeping view over the coastline.
This is Europe’s driest corner – with 3,000 hours of sunshine a year, it is defined as a sub-desert. Hiking here before summer makes sense; Inntravel offers this itinerary from September to May to miss the extreme heat.
Evidence of the dry climate is littered along the paths. Parched agave plants and esparto grass sit among crumbling farmsteads, prickly pears line sandy coves and lone palm trees puncture the skyline..
San José is Cabo de Gata’s largest town (Photo: Lux Blue/Getty)
My longest day of walking covers 18km, hugging the coast’s curves from the eerie remains of the old gold mine that perches over Rodalquilar, to San José, Cabo de Gata’s largest town, where my luggage has arrived ahead of me at a second small hotel, Cortijo El Sotillo. Much of today’s tramp is along a wide clifftop path, which was once earmarked to become a vehicular road. Plans were dropped when the park was designated.
Today, it’s a solitary stroll, but Cabo de Gata has not escaped the strain of tourism. Though I have hardly seen a soul striding here out of season, Andalucía’s regional government estimates that the park’s permanent population of a few thousand swells to 60,000 in summer.
Juan Jerez, acting secretary of the Friends of Cabo de Gata-Níjar Natural Park, an environmental and cultural organisation, is candid about the pressures the park faces. He says that though many beaches remain undeveloped because legislation prohibits it, their beauty attracts too many people in summer. Many visitors disrespect the environment by leaving litter or parking illegally, he says.
At Monsul beach, there are sand dunes that have hardened into stone (Photo: raspu/Getty)
On the final morning, I pad across Monsul beach, where fossilised sand dunes have hardened into rippled stone over millennia, then down to Genoveses and on.
Bells tinkling, a herd of white celtibérica goats, a breed as threatened as the landscape they’re crossing, spills across the sandy path ahead of me, pushed on by a farmer and his sheepdog.
Behind me, an old building waits for a planning decision on becoming a hotel, which residents aren’t keen on. But today, with the smell of pine and eucalyptus in the air and an empty Genoveses beach stretching out ahead, Pakyta’s coastline remains as unspoilt as the one she fought for.
Getting there
EasyJet, Ryanair and Jet2 fly direct to Almería from several UK airports. Cabo de Gata Natural Park is around 45 minutes by car from the airport. A hire car offers more flexibility to reach the park’s remotest corners, from around £20 per day. Buses also run to San José three times daily.
Booking it
The writer was a guest of Inntravel on its short break to Coastal Almería & the Cabo de Gata, costing from £608pp, excluding flights but including accommodation, transfers and some meals, inntravel.co.uk
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