Lanzarote: A Trip to the Dawn of History

The estimated number of volcanos is over 200, but there are no official figures. Fire keeps seething below the crust in Lanzarote and every now and then a new fire mouth opens erupting and covering the island in rivers of lava and lapilli. The vast Timanfaya National Park consists of volcanic material exclusively, and is inaccessible, except with authorised guides.

The island proudly rejects the modern era. Its landscape is reminiscent of Iceland, another land seemingly belonging to another age, with its scant, nearly absent vegetation, whose native living forms exist only there.

In the fourteenth century Lanzerotto Malocello, an explorer from Varazze, near Genoa (whose name the island has acquired), landed on the island and noticed that it was inhabited by indigenous tribes (the Guanches) living in Stone Age conditions. Subsequent expeditions managed to occupy the land only a century later; it remained however a destination of pirate raids, as the Castillo de Santa Barbara stronghold above Haría bears testimony.

Against the growing trend of mass tourism in the other Canary Islands, Lanzarote has preserved its ancient appearance thanks to the commitment of the local artist and architect, César Manrique, who fought strenuous battles against the construction of skyscraper hotels since as early as the seventies, up to his premature death in 1992. Manrique favoured a vernacular type of architecture, respecting local traditions and making it richer with a few flights of his fancy. His architectural and artistic works are spread throughout Lanzarote, making it uniquely fascinating, very different from the rest of the archipelago. His concept was to fuse the impacts of humankind and nature to create a harmony of forms, shapes and colours that would be respectful and peculiar at the same time. His attractive inventions fill us with admiration and awe.

Among his numerous creations are his home with studio and garden at Haría, the Manrique Foundation in Teguise, the Mirador del Río (restaurant and viewing terraces overlooking the Chinijo archipelago), the Campesino Monument, Jameos del Agua (restaurant and concert venue built inside a lava tunnel), the Cactus Garden – an extraordinary collection of cactus plants – as well as a number of wind sculptures around the island. Other works can be viewed in Tenerife (Lago Martianez and Playa Jardín in Puerto de la Cruz), Gran Canaria, La Gomera and El Hierro.

The dominant colours of the typical Lanzarote architecture are the dazzling white plaster and the blue of the sea, which gets integrated in the shape of a pool, a tub or a fountain. Another characteristic colour is the black of the lava stones showing through the plaster.

The little church of Yé, in the north, is our first meeting point with a group and the guides who show us wild beauties, native vegetation, lava formations, the colours of nature. Our hikes include Monte Corona, Caldera Blanca, Montaña Colorada and El Cuervo, all extinct volcanos, each with its history and characteristics.

Monte Corona is one of the highest “peaks”, with the rim of the crater at 609 m above sea level (the island’s maximum altitude is 670 m), and stands out for being “new”, i.e. it derived from an eruption just over 4,000 years ago; the eruption formed also a very long lava tunnel ending inside the Atlantic Ocean several kilometres ahead. In the direction of the sea, and under it, the tunnel forms the fantastic Cueva de los Verdes cave, a fairy-tale place with emerald reflections and reverberations.

Caldera Blanca is instead a very ancient, very wide – 1,200 m – whitish crater rising in the midst of a sea of black lava erupted from a nearby volcano in the 18th c.

El Cuervo is a very picturesque volcano that can be viewed inside and is rich in minerals and luxuriant vegetation.  Montaña Colorada is stunning for the magnificent colours that change progressively as one walks around it: green, red, yellow, and for the “bomb” – a huge basalt monolith thought to have been expelled during an eruption and that struck the sandy ground a few hundred metres of the crater.

The club we joined for our hikes is Lanzarote Active Club, run and enlivened by the exceptional Michele, Carmen, Isabel and Alena. We couldn’t have had better luck.

Lanzarote’s geologic variety is unique, as shown by another natural wonder: El Golfo. It is a volcano that erupted opening a crater inside the sea, and forming a bay – precisely a gulf. The colours here seem even artificial – from the bright red sandstone, to the glossy black basalt, to the silver grey sand at the bottom, to the emerald green lagoon (because of the algae).

Nature is the undisputed sovereign in Lanzarote; however, human beings have lived here since prehistory, in small settlements, fishing, hunting, breeding goats and later growing food and starting forms of trade. The inhospitable environment has always been a major obstacle for both colonisation and innovation.

Today there is an international airport in Arrecife, the capital, as well as a fairly developed road and highway network; internet is established but requires upgrading, particularly the wi-fi system. In a way, it is a kind of rebellious consolation to know that one is sometimes isolated, non-connected, unreachable from the rest of the world. It is therefore a pleasure to discover places where time is standing still, as in the vineyards dug in a bed of lapilli; as in the fields cultivated according to primitive techniques; as in the local craft markets selling really unfamiliar items; as in the farmyards where goats, chickens, pigs and dogs all live together; as in the little stores scattered in the countryside offering only a limited amount of imported goods; as in the sandstone concretions sculpted by the wind, resembling sand castles and citadels built by who knows what aliens…

The communities are small and peaceful, some are rich in history as Teguise, Haría, San Bartolomé, Tinajo, Yaiza; others busy with tourism, as Arrecife, Puerto del Carmen, Playa Honda, Playa Blanca, Costa Teguise. Tourism, however, isn’t like the one in Tenerife or Gran Canaria, loud and garish; it is an active sort of tourism, more interested in discovering the natural environment, less party-loving and night-owlish. Incredible but true, restaurants, bars and pubs open early in the evening and by 9 p.m. they’re already shut. At the beginning we were astounded. We wondered whether we were in Spain.

The very few sandy beaches – most of the coastline is rugged and inaccessible, awesome and dangerous – are frequented by sport lovers and fit people, not lazy families requiring parasols and deck chairs.

North of Lanzarote is a small archipelago formed by La Graciosa, Montaña Clara and Alegranza, only the first of which is inhabited (by fewer than seven hundred people) at forty minutes’ ferry crossing from Orzola harbour, at Lanzarote’s northern tip. The other two islands are protected nature reserves. The crossing is unforgettable; we sail around Punta Fariones and we enter the Río, the strait separating the two islands, flanked by high basalt cliffs on the east and a low sandy coastline on the west. The sea is deep blue and the sun covers it with golden specs. La Graciosa’s harbour is tiny and only used by the rather frequent ferries and fishing boats. There are neither paved roads nor motor vehicles. There are no fresh water springs either; therefore we must carry our own. It is an ideal place for trekking, with dozens marked paths, volcanos, secluded beaches to enjoy in private and breathtaking sights. One of the most spectacular spots is Playa de la Cocina at the foot of Montaña Amarilla, where there is a grotto with view, ideal for a picnic.

Our Lanzarote base camp was in Arrieta, a lovely seafaring village on the northeast coast, where all buildings are two-floor small white houses, there is a long rocky beach, and the waves seem to be perfect for surf enthusiasts. Arrieta is very popular with young sporting people; it also has several excellent fish restaurants, of which particularly noteworthy are El Amanecer and El Marinero, of a higher class.

Last but not least, Lanzarote wine. Production is very limited due to the island’s size, but quality stands out, particularly the white Malvasía, a wine that keeps winning countless international prizes. The vineyards are concentrated in particular in the south, between Tinajo and Yaiza; the bodegas (wineries with public points of sale) are numerous along the main roads; Bodega Rubicón and Bodega La Geria stand out, both offering wine tastings as well as restaurants.

Despite being so limited in size, Lanzarote is a miniature world and a week is barely sufficient for a superficial acquaintance. I’m already hoping to go back and get better acquainted.

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©DaniBlue

22nd March 2015

Tenerife: The Highest Canaria

Tenerife = El Teide (but not only). Approximately at the centre of this roughly triangular island rises Spain’s highest mountain and its most awesome volcano still in activity.

 

El Teide means also tourism, because it attracts millions of visitors annually; nevertheless, it remains aloof and majestic, oblivious of the thousands climbing, hiking, taking pictures, crowding the viewing points. It is generous; it gives everybody whatever they are looking for – sunshine, a snow-capped peak, cool air, adventure, bizarre lava formations, extra-terrestrial landscapes (Las Cañadas),



Las Cañadas

 

peculiar vegetation, an observatory to watch the star-studded night sky and more. It is spectacular, and rightly famous. We took a long hike around its foot, at 2000 m a.s.l., rather than ride the cable car to within 200 m of the 3,781 m peak, because I felt a slight shortness of breath. I don’t regret it, since it was equally incredible, I am sure. The sun was shining and we had our picnic in a quiet spot of the mighty scenery, on the south side of the mountain, where the vegetation is almost absent. On the opposite side, there are almost permanent clouds, fog and snow. In fact, the island is divided weather-wise in a W-E direction by El Teide: the North is under the influence of the Gulf Stream, with a high level of humidity, constant westerly winds and very variable weather. The vegetation is luxuriant and the land produces generous crops of bananas, oranges, papayas and every kind of fruits and vegetables. El Teide forms a barrier, so that the South of Tenerife is arid and largely desert-like, the temperatures are remarkably higher than in the North and the sun shines most of the time. This is fortunate for the beach-goers, but less so for people like us, so we decided to be based in Puerto de la Cruz.

 




Tenerife is not only El Teide, of course. There are fabulous places along the NW coast: Icod de los Vinos, Garachico, Buenavista del Norte (with Punta del Teno), Masca and Los Gigantes, sheer cliffs emerging 600 m from the level of the sea.

 

Garachico

Garachico is a well-preserved 18^th c. village that used to be Tenerife’s main port until the 1706 eruption. There is a rock (Roque de Garachico) rising from the sea just in front of it.

Puerta de Tierra park






 

Garachico has natural lava pools, attractive narrow streets and a lovely park (Parque Puerta de Tierra) with a monument to the poet Rafael Alberti.

Icod: Bizarre "menorah" dracaena

Casa Càceres

Courtyard



El Drago Milenario (Dracaena draco)

Icod de Los Vinos is interesting not only for its “1000-year old Dragon Tree” (Dracaena draco – actually not half as old as that) set in an attractive park, but also for a number of places and buildings, including the Cáceres house in the square with the same name, and interesting vegetation, churches, restaurants and the newly opened Salón Geográfico de Canarias (Geographic Museum).

Punta de Teno lighthouse

Punta de Teno is the highlight of the Teno Rural Park, the north-westernmost tip of the island, where land and ocean meet and fight for attention – a most fascinating world’s end.

Masca is a small perched village where a long gorge starts descending to the ocean, a real challenge for hikers. 3 km south where the gorge ends Los Gigantes bluffs begin.

Puerto de la Cruz, our base camp, is a lively resort, although not quite so popular with young people as Playa de las Americas, in the South. Puerto Cruz has plenty of good hotels, restaurants and bars, countless shops and boutiques, attractive black sand beaches,


Playa Jardín

quaint corners and beautiful gardens. Our five-day stint was pleasant and exciting. Our hotel stood directly on the beach, one of the many multi-storey hotels built in the 1990s-2000s, and our comfortable room looked out on the ocean. The beach and the hotel pool looked very inviting, unfortunately the winter temperatures were too low for us. 

Castillo San Felipe

Next to the hotel was the Castillo San Felipe, in restoration, and the attractive Playa Jardín. A short walk from the hotel was the town centre; we reached Plaza del Charco with its numerous restaurants and bars walking through the pedestrian district of La Ranilla, recently renovated and filled with great locales. Just north of Plaza del Charco is the picturesque fisherman’s harbour. 

Ermita de San Telmo

If you continue in the same direction you reach the Ermita de San Telmo, a small, pretty catholic chapel surrounded by an equally pretty tropical garden; if you walk further east you come to Lago Martiánez, a public complex of saltwater pools designed by the Lanzarote artist César Manrique. Beyond it is the Playa de Martiánez, a surfers’ paradise.

Lago Martianez



Playa Martianez

Next a couple of recommendations for a good aperitif and/or good dinners.

- Puerto de la Cruz: Bar Agora for excellent mojitos, friendly staff and reliable wi-fi connection; Restaurante Régulo, for high-class cuisine and Restaurante La Cofradía for the freshest fish and seafood in town;

- Icod de los Vinos (north coast): Restaurante Carmen, with typical décor and genuine Tenerife cuisine;

- Costa Adeje (south coast): Restaurante Torre del Mirador, with magnificent setting and very lively atmosphere.


(C) DaniBlue
16th March 2015

Windstorm and Hellfire

 

The night between Wednesday and Thursday there was a progressive, non-stop wind. It was howling, it came in violent gusts, throwing around all it could get hold of – roof tiles, iron chairs; it uprooted bushes and even trees. The noise it made in the gazebo was terrible; it made sleep a matter of stubborn concentration. Then came morning.

The wind had slowed down a little, but continued. The news on the radio reported serious damages to structures all over the country, particularly in our region. The force of the wind had reached record levels they spoke of 180 km/h gusts (tempest). The sea surface was white.

 

I went out in the strong breeze. Tiles from the roof had fallen and broken in pieces all over the yard; the roof of the gazebo was torn and hanged in strips that were flying like crazy flags.

 

I smelled smoke. Oh no… A flurry of ashes was swirling in the air, aided by an angry east wind. No flames were visible. It was a crystal-clear morning, except for the columns of smoke rising from behind the ridge. If the wind didn’t abate, we would be in for a serious forest fire. The water bomber planes weren’t flying, as we were expecting; presumably the weather conditions were prohibitive.

The wind didn’t abate. It blew all day, strong with irregular gusts; still we couldn’t see any flames, just smoke and ashes. Then, after sunset, a reddish line became apparent in the north, behind the ridge. As the sky grew darker, the line became clearer and larger.

 

The strength of the wind had increased: now big flames became apparent north and north-east; the wooded area bordering our grounds on three sides had caught the fire. It wasn’t the first time that we were witnessing wild fires in the area, but never before had the wind been so strong and the fire front so close to us. The fire-fighters and the volunteers of the civil protection arrived in their Land Rovers. They explained they could do next to nothing because the wind was blowing too hard and the woods were inaccessible on wheels. All they could do was to protect our boundaries.

 

The fire advanced inexorably. The magnificent pine and oak forest was slowly being eaten up. Now the fire front extended fully east and south east; the crackling was deafening, the smoke stung our eyes. We didn’t dare go to bed despite the firemen’s assurance that we were safe and the flames wouldn’t reach us. We had already packed our things and put the cats in their transporters, in case we should be evacuated. Fortunately we didn’t have to. We dozed off on the sofa.

 

Morning came. My husband had gone out to check the situation. Our boundaries were blackened, but the fire from north and east had ceased. Our grounds were untouched. The wind was now less strong; the fire front had moved south, away from us, but there the flames were still burning high. Later in the morning the Canadair water bombers and helicopters arrived and started extinguishing the main fires as well as the dozens hotbeds that were smouldering all around.

Taking in the situation of our property, we noticed that the devastation was less evident than we had expected. Many of the forest trees seemed untouched, although some black patches were evident. The undergrowth was all burnt off, however. The terraces above our property were covered in ash, with the black skeletons of the bushes sticking up. The fire had stopped at our borders, because we clear up the undergrowth and keep the ground always clean.

I went out reckoning. The road to the village was party bordered with tall burned out trees; the floor of the forest was white with ash. My heart sunk. It will take generations before the nature takes over again and new trees grow to replace the dead ones. I imagine the fire destroyed an incredible amount of wildlife.

The cause of the fire seems to have happened during the windstorm, when a tree fell on an electric line causing sparks on the dry grass. No arson, apparently.

Is there a lesson to be learned? Maybe that Nature is stronger than humankind; that it has no feeling for its creatures and despite all we can do to protect ourselves, we can never trust it. Or maybe that one should always clear the ground from dry grass and bushes? Time will tell – perhaps.

 

©DaniBlue

12^th March 2015