Wispy early morning air softened our arrival on bare, volcanic Lanzarote which a few hours later, I was secretly starting to call another ol’ heap of rocks.... My gaze skimmed indifferently over black ash fields, past tortured twisted lava badlands and up treeless conical mountains, yearning for forest green.... Were relentlessly dry blue skies clouding my view of an island famed for its artful landscapes? I badly needed César Manrique eyes! We were the very first visitors of the day, at Cesar Manrique's last home on the island. And because everything looks exactly
Come Sit with Us
M worried when we arrived on Fuerteventura (for what was his, ummm, umpteenth time), that there might be just so many pictures of rocks, ocean and sky a person could take in one place. Well, he needn’t have worried Pull up a chair and see for yourself.... Fuerteventura's barebone beauty surprised us with a dusting of colour and a rich treasure trove of those magical moments, when nature is the painter- and the painting: Snail painting Earth painting Sand painting Cliff painting Wind painting Rock painting Sky painting Beach painting We painting M art collector Flowers painting (Bye bye little ones!)
Way to Go
Nervous anticipation reached a new high.... ……then Boom! In the blink of an eye, two weeks with our tesoros on the road were over. And cutting them loose, again, still hadn’t become any easier….. Catching a ferry to Fuerteventura felt like an excellent move. Still a little adrift, I wandered out for a look at a new beach, on a new island. I sat in the sand, in the shelter of a sturdy black lavastone wall, and watched a patch of perky little
Nomen est Omen
We smirked a bit at this one, (thinking Turismo de Gran Canarias had probably come up with it)- Gran Canaria- Continente en Miniatura. Quite a grandios label to live up to we felt. But to our surprise, we really did find a big world- folded 3D into a small island: Mellow spring landscapes rugged valleys and glittering lakes- a fascinating array of spiky survival specialists and an ever-changing medley of perfectly adjusted plantlife all bordered by the ever-present Atlantic ocean. We’d wander across sand dunes clamber up arid slopes, meander across sunny meadows
Ghost of Travel Past?
Still alive and kicking! This, ladies and gents, is nothing less than Christopher Columbus's trusty guidebook, "The Wonders of the World", by Marco Polo, including Columbus's handwritten notes in the margins Here's our trusty guidebook. Some things never change!! Ghost of Travel Present? Well- solving health issues, and other, funner, (yes that's a word) activities: Ciudad del Mar is not the only byname Las Palmas goes by- more about our whirl with all things culture coming soon... Ghost of Travel Yet to Be? Maybe this: “Nothing so liberalizes a man (and a woman!)
Love is in the air….
Gotta love this supermarket run! Once in a while, not researching a destination, (usually a no-go for this detail oriented traveller), has its own rewards- this time, a bevy of unexpected, exciting sights, sounds and smells, smack in the middle of Gran Canaria's biggest city. I admit- we’re smitten! Smitten with Las Palmas, aka “Ciudad del Mar”- what an uninspired catchphrase for a breathtaking (breathgiving!) location.... (Photo courtesy of the internet) The ocean is all-pervasive here; it’s in the air It pops into casual glances It makes you overlook
Landfall! Excitement surged as the Volcan del Teide finally put down anchor on Lanzarote's shores, after 30 (thirty) more- or less- enjoyable hours on board. Adrenalin waned quickly though, as we lifted anchor again and chugged on into moist twilight- the hours expanding exponentially to our impatience to get off the boat, and on to Gran Canaria, the island we'd been gravitating toward for weeks. (Tennessee Williams is so right: Time is the longest distance between two places!) Landfall on Gran Canaria at 9 pm. There's faint warmth in the air and tangy
A Slice of Spain
Underreported unchecked advance of The Olive Tree in Andalucia! A mining industry that died and many shiny new ones... The intense scent of fresh pressed olive oil, of eucalyptus and dust; twin black tree trunks like thick checkmarks topped with frothy silver, against brilliant, emerald fields; feisty and friendly freerange pigs, (who M, with a gourmet's eye, insisted on calling Pata Negras...) classic countryside- ancient history- They all figure in the juicy slice of Spain we savoured, on the slow journey to our goal on the edge of Europe: