Michael Newcomb didn’t set out to be a walking guide in southern Spain. In fact, if you’d met him in the mid-90s, you’d have found him teaching English in Santiago de Chile. But somewhere between classroom chalkboards and South American airports, fate nudged him onto a different path.
“I was travelling during the holidays,” he recalls, “and I bumped into a guy who was working as a tour guide. We travelled together for a couple of weeks, and I thought to myself, well, that looks like a very nice job, doesn’t it?”
Eight months later, with South America still on his mind, Michael joined a travel company and was soon leading his first tour in Ecuador and Colombia. It wasn’t without challenges. “Four of my five clients missed their connection,” he laughs. “Air France sent them on a crazy journey: Paris, Madrid, São Paulo, Buenos Aires, Santiago and Guayaquil. They arrived about 50 hours later, completely exhausted. So, it wasn’t exactly the dream start!”
For years, Michael worked across Latin America, loving the landscapes and the people, but always aware of the question hanging in the background: Why you? He said, “In Colombia, a man once asked me, ‘Who are you to guide people here?’ And I thought, if I get asked that again, I’d like to say: ‘Because I’m from here.’”
And “here” turned out to be Andalucia. Michael’s roots run deep in the region. On his father’s side, generations of miners lived and worked in Río Tinto, named after its copper-rich red river. In the 1800s, the British mining company reshaped the town, leaving behind railways, Victorian houses and even cricket pitches in the heart of Andalucia. On his mother’s side, the story is just as fascinating. With a mix of Italian and Catalan roots, the family were exiled during the Spanish Civil War, finding refuge in Scotland before returning to Málaga, where his parents met.
“I spent my first three years in Málaga,” he says. “So when it came to putting down roots, Andalucia felt like the natural place to return to. It gave me the right to say, ‘this is my home, these are my guests.’”
Now, after 15 years guiding in Andalucia with Exodus, Michael has become something of a bridge between cultures. “I’m binational – I’ve got one foot in the UK and one in Spain. It puts me in a privileged position. Not just to translate language, but culture, customs, all those nuances in between.”
Travellers on our Walking in Andalucia trip soon discover Michael’s pride, especially when it comes to the first stop on the trip – the village of Algámitas. Perched on a ridge between Seville, Málaga and Cádiz provinces, it’s the kind of place outsiders rarely stumble upon.
“Algámitas is special because it’s not on the way to anywhere”, he explains. “It hasn’t been prettied up for tourists. It’s authentic, a working village where everyone knows each other. The only visitors are us. And that means our groups get a genuine glimpse of Andalucian life.”
The trip’s base is a converted farmhouse, the Cortijo Rosario, which has hosted Exodus guests since the 1990s. From here, travellers set out on daily walks across olive groves and escarpments.
“On that first day, I always stop the group for coffee in the village,” Michael says. “It’s Sunday morning, you see locals chatting in the square, the slower pace of life. And the villagers see us using the cafes and restaurants, which keeps that connection alive.”
If there’s one thing Michael’s groups quickly learn, it’s to keep their eyes to the sky. “We’re on one of the world’s great migratory routes,” he says. “Millions of birds cross the Straits of Gibraltar twice a year. I’ve had days when within an hour and a half we’ve seen golden eagle, short-toed eagle, booted eagle, buzzard and sparrowhawk – just like that.”
But it’s not only about what’s in the skies. Michael is equally passionate about the ground beneath his feet: the olive industry, the cork harvest, and the spring wildflowers that blanket the hills.
“The great thing about plants,” he says with a grin, “is they don’t run away. I talk a lot about medicinal uses and foraging. In March, my groups can munch on raw asparagus growing wildly – they love it.”
“Scratch beneath the surface here and you’ll find incredible stories of the Visigoths, Moors, Romans and the Reconquista. Place names themselves even tell tales”. He delights in sharing the origins of Setenil de las Bodegas, famous for its white houses tucked beneath the vast limestone overhangs that groups visit on Day 4. “I discovered recently that Setenil literally means ‘seven-nil,’ a reference to the seven failed attempts by Spanish forces to retake the town from the Moors. Eighth time lucky – it shows the resilience of the Spanish.”
For many travellers, another highlight of the trip is walking around the Sierra de Grazalema Biosphere Reserve. Michael lights up when he talks about it. “I think it’s one of the most special mountain ranges on the continent,” he says. “People don’t realise how unique it is until they’re here.”
On Day 3, Level 2 groups head into the rugged limestone valleys of Grazalema itself, walking down into the whitewashed village of Benaocaz, while Level 4 groups summit El Terril, the highest peak in Seville province, with sweeping views across Andalucia.
He explains, the reserve isn’t just a single park but a mosaic of three: Grazalema, Alcornocales, and the Strait of Gibraltar, stitched together into one vast protected area. Its position at the gateway between Africa and Europe, and where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic, has made it both a natural crossroads and a coveted prize for every civilisation from the Phoenicians to the Moors.
“You can see history layered into the landscape,” Michael explains. “Castles, cave art, Roman ruins, it’s all there. Even the geology is extraordinary, with cave systems that hold vast aquifers suspended above the villages.”
And then there are the plants. Grazalema’s forests host over 40 species of fern – a European record, Michael said – and relic rhododendrons that botanists once swore couldn’t exist so far south. “It’s fascinating that plants and ecosystems have clung on for millennia in these little ecological niches. Walking here, you’re surrounded by living history as much as natural beauty.”
Back in Seville, the free-day city stopover offers another perspective. Even though Michael is not with the group during this part of the trip, he always gives a lot of tips on what to see. “Don’t try to see it all in one day. Less is more. Choose one or two things, like the Real Alcázar gardens or a flamenco show in an intimate venue.”
His favourites? Casa del Flamenco and Casa de la Guitarra, two tucked-away venues in the old quarter that seat no more than 70 people. “They’re small, intimate, and the musicianship is world-class,” he says. “You’re close enough to catch every detail of the performance. It’s not a big tourist production, it’s flamenco at its purest”.
Later in the week, on Day 6, his groups take on the Caminito del Rey, once dubbed “the most dangerous path in the world.” After being fully restored in 2015, it’s now one of Andalucia’s most breathtaking walks, a narrow cliffside path hanging high above the Guadalhorce River. “I’ll be honest,” Michael says, “it’s not my favourite because it can be crowded, but I manage expectations, make sure everyone knows what to expect, and then let the landscape do the talking.” He continues, “My groups often tell me afterwards that it was the standout moment of their trip – the place they’ll never forget.”
After more than two decades of guiding around the world – and 15 years here in Andalucia – Michael pauses when asked what makes a truly great leader. “You’ve got to like people, for a start,” he says. “And you need emotional intelligence to sense the group, so you know when to talk and when to give some space. You’ve also got to love the place you’re showing off – I could talk about Andalucia all day.”
And talk he does. About the abandoned Caños Santos Monastery that walkers pass on their way to Setenil. About rhododendron forests that botanists swore couldn’t exist in Spain. About how, in small villages, you can walk straight up to the mayor and complain about the planters. There’s no rehearsed script, no tour-guide clichés, just stories, passion, and the kind of knowledge you only get from living in the region itself.
Above all, Michael wants travellers to embrace the Andalucian way of life: the slower pace, the strong sense of family, the friendliness of small communities. He often shares with his groups one of his favourite phrases: pueblo pequeño, infierno grande – “small village, big hell.”
“It sounds harsh,” he chuckles, “but what it really means is: be kind. In a small community, you’ll be seeing the same faces all your life, so patience and tolerance matter. It’s good life advice, I think.”
When you walk with Michael in Andalucia, you don’t just see the place – you step into its rhythms and stories. You notice the birds overhead, the history underfoot and the warmth of a guide who knows that being part of a community is the best way to share it with the world.
If you’d like to join Michael as he leads the way across Andalucia, take a look at our Walking in Andalucia trip.
