Right opposite the entrance to the urbanisation La Zagaleta, just outside San Pedro on the road to Ronda, you will see a chain that bars the entrance to a rudimentary path that is the beginning of a 12 km hike to the ruins of Daidin, one of the last Moorish settlements in the province of Malága. I should really add the adjective supposed to the word ruins as nobody knows anymore the exact location of this Arab settlement.

That it once existed we learn from old documents dating from the reconquista, when the Catholic Kings Isabel and Fernando reconquered Spain from the Moors. The Arabs were forced to live at least 15 km away from the coast as one feared that the previous rulers would seek contact with the Berbers and Arabs living on the other side of the Mediterranean.

This did not mean that the inland villages with a predominant Moorish population were left in peace. The years after the reconquista saw continuous exchanges of violence and often relentless suppression of the Moors that stayed behind.

It seems that during these exchanges of violence Daidin was effectively obliterated from the landscape but, as I said before, the supposed ruins can be seen just a mere 12 km away from the San Pedro – Ronda road, opposite La Zagaleta.

The adventurous hiker will ignore the aforementioned chain as well as the metal shield bearing the words: ‘Propiedad privada, prohibido el paso’. It is probably put there by the tenants of two more or less inhabited dwellings you will encounter along the way in an effort to stop this scenic route from becoming a tourist attraction.
We thus decided to ignore this warning, left our car just before the entrance and started our trip on a sunny afternoon last summer.

As we entered deeper into the valley the undergrowth on both sides became denser and we noticed many rock roses growing between chestnut trees, gall oaks and cork oaks. There was also an abundance of pine trees thanks to an intensive reforestation program carried out by the Junta de Andalucia and ferns were already showing the first brown shades of the imminent autumn.

Water dripped from the mountainsides in small streams that soon dried up in the predominantly dry earth. Looking over our shoulder we saw the Pillars of Hercules above the silhouette of San Pedro and counted ourselves lucky with this breathtaking view.

After about 30 minutes we came to a ramshackle dwelling where the inhabitants obviously practised cattle breeding by means of keeping sheep, goats, one cow plus some smaller free range live stock. It turned out that the owners were more or less hobby farmers and after the necessary labour required to keep their livestock in good fettle they returned to their comfortable abode in San Pedro. The overall picture was one of a sagging wooden dwelling surrounded by a relaxed conglomeration of rusty beds, old pallets, barbed wire, chicken wire, sheets of corrugated plastic, small tree trunks in all sizes, plastic bags and the inevitable super market shopping cart.
We stepped carefully past these second hand building materials and arrived a short while later at an even more primitive construction that housed a few dogs.

The path became narrower and the smell of excrements soon made way for that of aromatic herbs such as rosemary and thyme. Every now and then we saw a salamander, hurrying himself away into the undergrowth.

After walking for three hours - a small break for lunch included - we saw a sign with the words ‘El Dairin’. Spelling is rather haphazard in the countryside so we were under the impression of nearing our destination. Indeed after another hour of brisk stepping we finally reached the end of the valley were hither and thither small heaps of rubble dotted the landscape. There even was a small house and garden next to some ruins that served as a home to a few pigs. A man working in the garden told us that the whole valley belonged to an Arab who once had plans to fill up this beauty spot with bricks and mortar. Luckily the Junta de Andalucia had put a stop to this so for the time being nature had won a battle against the forever advancing civilisation.

A further inspection brought us face-to-face with a 3 meter high ruin of what must have been a stronghold of the last Moors before they were forced to leave this idyllic spot and their beloved Al Andalus for ever.
As these ruins are about 180 meters higher than our starting point the return trip took a mere two and a half hours and soon after our feet had a well earned rest from their trespassing into the rich historical past of Spain.