We took a taxi to the airport and caught the early flight out to the Island of Lanzarote, in the Canary Islands off the coast of Morocco.
Our little white Citroen rental car from Avis was waiting for us, and we drove the 30KM south to the town of Playa Blanca, our home for four days. I love these very small rental cars because they are easy to park and get through the narrow European streets, and they use so little gas.
The flip side is that, as one Italian said to us at dinner, “Going up the hill you have to do the Fred Flintstone!”
It is weird, these first hours on the island. It’s overcast, windy and actually almost chilly. It sure is not the hot sun, dry air of Morocco. Grey and cloudy over the barren, volcano rock desert landscape.
We don’t just have a room here, we are staying in a resort called THe Mirador Papagayo.
THat’s not a typo. THey call it “THe.”
Anyway we are at a resort… Kind of by mistake, but on purpose. OK, it’s like this:
I was looking for a room, and I came across this place, right on the water with an ocean view, at the edge of town and walking distance out to some great little cove beaches at the tip of the island. And the price was right: €139 a night for an apartment; bedroom, living room, refrigerator, coffee maker, patio, two TVs (though we never even turn either one on), windows and sliding glass doors on the fourth floor with great views … This is the best class of room here and for only 139 a night.
The weird thing was, you could not just get the room, you had to sign up for either “half-board” (breakfast and dinner) or “all inclusive” (lunch, drinks all included). Still, the price was right. I would have paid that for just the apartment. So we took the “half board” option.
This place is like an all-inclusive resort. It is huge and overwhelming to me. It took a while to figure out where to go. There are people who appear to be just camped out here, at the pool, or shows and activities, or just eating 24 hours a day.
Well, I have never been to a resort and I am finding out that I am not a fan. Too crowded and noisy, and the buffet dinners, while they have a LOT of choices, offer one local island cheese (Look! Local food!) and a bunch of pretty bland food, like steaks or shrimps, overdone vegetables and too-fancy overly-sweet desserts. But I have to say the room is great. So we have figured out a pretty good compromise:
We eat breakfast here in the morning, then head out to explore. During the day we eat in the local places, and buy the island wine. When we return, if we are hungry we go down to the dinner for a snack (Gail usually gets ice cream, I get cheese and maybe bread or slice of meat) then we head back up to the room for wine on the patio.
So we are really loving the room, and putting up with the rest.
Our outer area of Playa Blanco is maybe called Castillo del Aguila, or maybe called Rubicon, since we are close to the Marina Rubicon.
There is a nice paved path that runs from the end of our bay, way on the edge of town, all the way to the other end of Playa Blanca over three kilometers away. It just follows right along the edge of the ocean, winding in and out, over then down, with stairways to access coves and overlooks built with benches to sit on. There are planted areas, almost garden like, with a few plants or cacti and the fine black volcanic pebbles raked and smoothed to perfection. The path is lined by low black lava rock walls, fitted perfectly, running into large lava rocks left jutting up here and there. It is neat and stark, it is artistic and perfect, and it is clean with not a sign of litter anywhere.
We set out in the cool, walking the path to Rubicon Harbor. Along the way the clouds lifted, the sun came out and it became blazing hot!
We walked on the cliff tops until we came around a bend and there was the old castle-fort, Castillo del Águila o de las Coloradas. It is a short round structure, and was somehow used to defend this end of the island, though when you look at it it is hard to imagine how. Maybe the attacking pirates came throwing rocks?
The harbor is a cute area of little stores and restaurants. It seems really new and modern. There is a lighthouse, mostly for looks, and a bridge over the water just for fun. We are still a good two kilometers from Playa Blanca itself, but this little local area became our hangout.
We looked around, then settled on a place called La Petite Marmite where we had a plate of four cheeses and local wine. Two of the cheeses were the local goat cheese (Though in our driving around the island we saw zero goats, zero cows even though there are signs warning you they are there in the “open range.” We saw about fifty camels (!) and sixty zillion free-range rocks.).
In the photo below, the two middle cheeses are the local ones, one mild and soft and the other more firm and tasty.
We had the local wine, white Malvasía from the island, in a big blue bottle from a vineyard named Yaiza. I learned all the local wines add the word “Volcánica” to the grape, so you know there is no doubt it was grown in the very harsh conditions here. They all carry a little Lanzarote designated sticker as well.
We made a store run for toothpaste and so on, then as the heat intensified and the afternoon grew late we went back to room for a short siesta before the dinner.
This was the evening I discovered the bland food, and made the better eating plans.
So after sunset we walked back along the path, all the way into and through Punta Blanco. We picked up local wine, had a little snack, and just enjoyed the walk and people watching.
Once the sun was down it was chilly enough that Gail had to wear her down coat (though I was OK in shirt and shorts) and the wind was steady.
The harbor and ocean front of Punta Blanco is all lit up and festive, music blaring from bars and restaurants and shops lining the walkway. Up one block in the town’s main street it is a pedestrian way, lined on both sides with tired, low white buildings, more local cafes and shady bars, and stores ranging from “Souvenir Crap Here” to “Waste Your Euros Here” or “H&M” or “Prada.” It is a weird mix, and seems sort of run-down.
There is a nice crescent beach, Dorada Beach, right in town with beds and umbrellas.
We walked smack into some sort of wrestling contest down on the beach. There were teams, and a referee, and as near as I could tell the point was to simply throw your opponent down onto the sand. But the reason it was weird was this: The wresters started out grabbing a hold of each other’s shorts. They bent over, shoulder to shoulder, one arm dangling, then at the whistle they pulled and yanked and tugged, grunting.
I think I’d do more than just grunt if someone was pulling at my shorts that hard. Pull and push until someone falls down.
I had to google it to find out what is really going on. More here and here.
Well, you just never know what you will find.
So, we walked over ten miles today just looking around. First impression of the Canary Islands: It is not what we expected. Things do not seem particularly old, nor quaint. The white boxy houses with green shutters on the barren brown landscape is sort of monotonous.
Here and here is some information about Lanzarote.
Our side of Playa Blanca is out near the very southern tip of the island, where Papagayo Beach is. That’s another reason I chose our room, we are walking distance to the little sand pocket beaches in coves all along the southern tip of Lanzarote, and Papagayo is supposed to be the best of the bunch. In fact this is the Costa de Papagayo.
But with the chill and wind, I am wondering now if we will go beach or not? Gail is even wearing her little Patagonia down coat.
- Later, when the fog cleared it got really hot. Turns out this morning fog is an almost daily thing, so we have pretty cool nights but hot, sunny days.
Once the haze clears we can look out across the water and clearly see the next island over, Feurteventura, less than 20 KM away (about ten miles).
The island is not that big, but you do need a car (or be really good at riding a bike) to really explore. We set off to see the north and west sides. Leaving town we had to "Fred Flintstone" in first gear to get over the little pass.
The first stop was the Salinas de Janubio saltmine on the lagoon near Janubio, founded in 1895, where they produce... salt. Their specialty is Flor de Sal, the “flower of salt.” It has to be collected at sunset when the air cools the brine, forming a thin layer of salt on the surface of the water. It makes “flakes” of salt instead of the normal "crystal rocks” we are used to seeing. Gail got some in Portugal one year and is crazy about the stuff, so we bought a jar. They had several different colors and flavors of salt, from yellow curry salt to black smoked salt.
Just around the corner we stopped at the black sand beach of Janubio. It stretches across the little bay, making the salt lagoon. There are a lot of black sand beaches here because of the volcanic rocks, some pebbly and some sandy. Close to where we are staying most of the beaches are the yellow sand. But in this stretch of the coast north of us it is all black rock.
The next few kilometers we pulled out to look at the waves crashing on the jagged rocks, lave tube caves and so on. It is just so barren and dry, with black and red volcanic cones rising in the distance. It is similar to the Big Island of Hawaii in that the rocks are jagged and black right into the blue waves, but there is none of the lush vegetation.
The best pullout was at Los Hervideros, where little rock paths led to holes in the cave ceiling so you could look down and see the waves crashing below.
We turned inland, to Yaiza, where we stopped at the Museum of Aloe, a clever way for a store to stop people and sell them Aloe Vera products. I tried a free sample of puffy green Aloe candy. Now that was different. As we traveled the next two days we found that many of the towns had “Museums of Aloe.” Yaiza is the name of the white wine Gail likes, that comes in the tall blue bottle, but I could not find anything to show that the wine is produced in the town of Yaiza itself.
There is a nicely landscaped town park here, some trees and cactus and a few flowers on the hillside, the lava sand all groomed smooth. The houses here are like most houses on the island, low, boxy and white with green shutters. Some yards are more “landscaped” than others, some shaped or painted a little different, a couple are even two story.
But it is pretty uniform; white boxes set on the brown volcanoes.
Well, this National Park charges €10 each to drive in. You can "Fred Flintstone" up the 2 kilometer road that loops around the restaurant, and then if you want there is a 20 minute shuttle bus ride you can take along another short loop to “see” the volcanoes.
But in reality, you can "see" the volcanoes from the parking lot.
You are not allowed to get out and hike anywhere, unless you get a ranger to guide you.
The reality is, you are paying €10 a person to gain entrance to the driveway to the restaurant.
The logo of the park is a little devil holding a pitchfork. These are the Montañas del Fuego, after all.
At first I thought it might be a representation of Vulcan, but no, it is El Diablo himself.
The restaurant itself confirmed it right away.
I wanted to eat at the Restaurante El Diablo, so we did. I think that if you eat here they should give you free entrance to the Parque Nacional Timanaya, since this is really the main attraction here.
Anyway, my chicken was cooked over the open vent into the earth; heat from the eternally burning sulfur pits of hell slowly roasting it.
Or perhaps it might have been the heat from a close bubble of magma… but where is the fun in believing that scientific crap?
Hell-roasted chicken and potato is what I had.
While we were eating we watched the “Mother Nature Needs Enhancement” show.
Because you know, nature is not entertaining enough on its own. We watched as people gathered around an open vent while the rangers put a pitchfork of dry grass over it. Everyone clapped as it caught fire.
More exciting are the vents with pipes inserted into them. The rangers drop a bucket of water down the vent-pipe, and about ten seconds later it is burped back up as a cloud of steam, like a geyser.
The best part of that show was the time some teenage sulking kid was standing, staring at his iPhone, totally oblivious to what was going on, and ignoring the ranger's warnings to “…stand over there…”
The geyser spit, the wind blew the water and steam right at the kid totally soaking him, and the crowd roared and clapped!
I smiled and took another bite of Devil-chicken.
When we left we saw a line of about 50 camels heading home. Camel rides are big business at the edge of the Parque Nacional Timanaya, and there are literally hundreds of camels that set off with a full tour-bus load of people for a half hour jaunt up a dirt road. The camels have baskets to sit in, and little mouth covers so they can’t nip or spit at you.
If you have to ride in a basket and you can’t get bit or spit at, what’s the point? I say go to Morocco and ride in the desert for a day instead.
So we were going to drive the LZ-30 through wine country. This turned out to be the highlight of two days of exploring. We were basically in the area between Uga and Masdache.
It is pretty surreal to see the grapes here. The wind is pretty constant and strong, and the heat is intense if the wind dies down. Plus you are trying to grow grapes in what is essentially volcanic gravel.
And then there is the problem of water, as in there isn’t any.
So the solution turns out to be pits. They dig circular pits, smooth fine black pebbles with the rocks removed; an upside down cone shape. Then build a volcano rock wall halfway around the pit, and plant the vines. The grapes just grow right on the ground, all spread out like an octopus.
My initial thought is how hard it would be to harvest the grapes, sitting on the hot black cinders and having to reach in and under the vines, lifting them to harvest the grapes. I know from five years of working the harvest that just picking grapes from regular trellises is hard enough; this looks back-breaking.
And they have been producing wine in this area for at least 240 years, and this is one of the younger wine growing regions in the Canary Islands.
Some people just build a rock wall and plant the grapes along it, so you have a row of octopi instead. And they do the same type of planting program to grow the little stunted, six foot high fig trees.
So here we are, in the middle of all this barren red, black and brown lava, with smooth, groomed “fields” of volcanic sand and pebbles climbing the sides of volcanoes, neat rows of pits and half-circles with bright green “shrubs” in the middle of each pit.
It looks like nothing I have ever seen.
And to think of all the work involved, I am happy to pay the slightly expensive (€10 to €20) price per bottle.
The main grape varieties here are number one, Malvasía. Most of the white wine here is this grape. Most of the wine produced is dry, but a couple vineyards make small quantities of sweet wine from this grape and also a small quantity of Muscato.
The Malvasía tends to be crisp and clean with little nose. It is pretty easy drinking on its own but you have to be careful of the slightly higher alcohol content. It pairs well with the local cheeses and fish.
The next main grape variety is the Listán Negro, which they use to produce red and rosé wines. The reds are drunk pretty young, are dry with little nose but a good, clean fruit taste.
Most of the wine is done in stainless steel, but some is barrel aged for up to three months (at least that was the longest time I saw printed).
Those are the big two, and I was familiar with neither grape variety, so I spent time introducing myself to them.
Minor grape varieties include Vijariego, which I like more than the Malvasía, Listán Blanco, Syrah and Muscato. The majority of the wine produced and drunk on this island is white, but I read that more red (Listán Negro) is made on Tenerife.
Wine is produced on every island except Feurteventura.
We stopped in at a small Bodegas (producer) to taste some really alcohol-tasting organic, naturally produced wine (served in a topped-off shot glass) but it was too sharp and acidic for us.
The we stopped to really taste at Bodegas el Grifo, the oldest winery on the island. We got a tasting of six generous pours, their three whites, one rosé and two reds.
Gail liked the white Malvasía best and we got a bottle for her. I liked the Vijariego best, a new grape for me, so I bought a bottle of that. In fact, the Vijariego (Blanco - there is an even more rare Vijariego negro to make red wine) is so little known that even wikipedia does not have a page for it!
I liked the clean taste, some minerality, maybe slightly more acidic than the Malvasía.
Neither of us liked the rosé (Listán Negro) but I liked the the Listán Negro - Syrah blend and bought a bottle of that as well.
On our way out of the valley of vino, we passed a really odd looking sculpture, sort of like white cubes with wires and other stuff.
It totally made no sense at all, so I had to stop to see what it was.
The Monument to Fertility.
Of course.
Duh.
It still made no sense at all.
Our last stop for the day was out to the north-west coast and the long beach under the cliffs at Famora. I had considered staying here, but I’m glad we didn’t because it is a pretty isolated little village pretty far out there. The beach was really nice however, and we walked about two miles out along, and then back.
It is a misty overcast morning, clouds low on the volcanoes. It is weird here, either the air is crisp and clear and you can see details across the channel while the hot sun beats down, or it is overcast and hazy like rain is coming, but it never does. Today we planned to see some sights around the east side of the island, going north to south.
But, as good plans usually do, they don’t quite pan out.
We drove up near the north-east corner of the island to the Jameros del Agua Caves. This cave is right at the edge of the ocean, and it actually part of a lava tube system that extends inland a few kilometers, up to the Cueva de los Verdes, which is to be our second stop. These caves, like the volcano park, are featured on postcards and one every website as “must do” or “must see” sights here on the island.
I will tell you: you “must save” your euros instead.
Maybe I am jaded? Maybe I don’t like paying to go spend more money?
The Jameros del Agua Cave is actually a restaurant and bar built into a large lava tube. You pay almost €10 to walk in and down two flights of stairs to a restaurant set back into the recess of the cave. The ceiling is still about ten feet high here, there is lighting, a full bar, kitchen, bathrooms, wooden dance floor, tables and so on. There is a big circular hole where the roof of the cave collapsed in years ago, letting in light. This whole restaurant area takes up about 5000 square feet. At the edge you walk down two more flights of stairs and there is the lava tube, extending the length of a football field, with a small lake in the bottom of it.
The water is clear, and so past the “No Swimming” and “Do not throw coins” signs, you can look down in the water and see the small fortune of coins people have thrown in. The lava tube is fixed up, concrete patches in places to hold things together, a “natural looking” lava rock path with guard rail along the edge so you can walk to the other side of the cave lake where there is…
wait for it…
There is a second bar with snacks. So you go up the two flights of stairs meandering through orange tables, past the bar and come out to a flat area (technically you are still “in the cave”) where a gleaming white pool of blue blue water has been built. Here is a palm tree over it, and again the cave roof is open here, so it is like being at a tropical pool about 25 feet “underground” (except the roof is open, so you are just in the walls of the cave). The water looks so inviting…
No swimming of course.
Everyone looks and admires the pool. Behind that the cave continues, but it is walled off. You enter that part through some glass doors to find you are in a large underground auditorium, rows of seats sloping down to the stage in front. Today they are showing a tourism movie comparing Lanzarote to Hawaii.
*HINT* This is not Hawaii. I know. Four islands, four months, years ago.
So I am pretty disgusted. This has hit like three major things for me.
1. I do not like being charged to “see a sight” that is really an eating-concert-shopping venue. There is nothing to experience here. You are being charged to come in and eat (more money) or drink and dance (more money) or attend a concert (more money) or shop in the gift store (more money).
2. I hate all these “improvements" to natural things. Where we live there are hundreds of lava tubes in the mountains, many undiscovered or known by few people, that are free for the exploration. And they are huge and spectacular, or small and twisty and exciting to explore.
3. I hate when little Lucerne in Lake County California says they are “The Switzerland of California.” Not even close and it is an embarrassing comparison. Why can’t they simply be “The Coolest Little Town Named Lucern Of California?” Lanzarote is Lanzarote, and it is a stupid comparison to suggest it is anything like Hawaii. Drop it.
Well, after this (and no, I do not want any more damn key chains or magnets, thank you) I strode out of the “cave” and told Gail I am through with paying for this crap.
She agreed.
I took like five photos and they are below, so you can save yourself the time and money.
We drove the little one lane, two way traffic road up to the other end of the cave system, at Cueva de los Verdes, past the parking lot and entrance fees and store…
On up the road, stopping for a photo or two of the barren volcanic landscape. Gail says the moss starting to grow on some of the lava rocks looks a little like the moss on the lava in Iceland, and so I want to invite all of you loyal readers to come drive the one lane road through "The Iceland of the Canary Islands.”
Oh? Question?
How does a one-lane, two-way road work?
There are pullouts about every 200 meters, and you play chicken. The best is when you are way back in a pullout, perhaps taking photos, and one guy goes up against a line of three or four cars… and the one guy refuses to back up… and then another car shows up to box him in…
I just had to watch and laugh.
I really wanted to drive up to the Mirador del Rio, a cliff top bar that looks out over the north shore and channel and over to the mini-island of La Graciosa. We had to "Fred Flintstone” over the 600 meter high pass (That is all of 1968 feet, the "high point" of the roads here.).
It was a great drive up, with the road twisting and turning at the edge of the cliff. The wind was really blowing when we got there, it was past noon, and we were ready to have something to eat and drink. We parked and walked up and… turned around in disgust and walked away.
Yup.
Another bunch of euros to enter this “tourist attraction” so we could have the privilege of paying to eat and drink and enjoy the view.
I have a suggestion for Lanzarote: How about you don’t charge people who just want to go in and spend some money having a drink or meal?
This is where I drew the line.
Later, we didn’t even bother to go to the Santa Barcara Castle. I knew what we’d find.
I was hoping for the island special, “Cabrito" (goat). It was on the menu.
Alas they were out.
So I settled for conejo, the fried rabbit. Gail decided on the fried cheese of the local goats (the very goats I was going to eat… lucky day for them). “We need more cheese!” they were told.
We shared a starter of coconut prawns which were surprisingly great. Gail’s local cheese was very good, and my rabbit nuggets were tasty.
OK. This is it.
Totally a local place. Not a single tourist here. In fact it was filled, and we barely got in. Families and groups of friends, and stupid us, thinking that perhaps there would be a table… but they squeezed us in.
Here are some unbiased, unfiltered observations:
Loud big groups, like eating in the US. Very unusual, in our experience.
Men sitting at at one end of the table, women and children at the other end.
A kid on his cell phone, gaming, refuses to give it up when told and the mom just sighed, shrugged and let him get away with it.
Sulky teenagers.
Good food and wine at a very affordable price.
As we drove around I kept asking, “Where are all the local goats?” And when there were “open range” signs with cows on the, we looked in vain for a cow. We did see one squirrel. Birds. But no animals.
Odd.
To end out day of exploring we decided to go to Arrecife, the largest city and where the airport is located.
It is Sunday so it was easy to drive into the city center and park. However everything was closed so there was no food. We walked the waterfront and saw the old fort and the bridges, one a draw bridge. There is a nice harbor with sailboats parked, surrounded by condos. A couple nice statues rounded out the area. But really, nothing of note.
We headed back to our apartment.
It is a hazy morning again, you can barely see Fuerteventura off on the horizon.
Not a colorful sunrise, just the light coming up, like every day. It is strange: no orange sunrises or sunsets as you would expect on an island.
We spent most of the day walking out to the end of the Costa de Papagayo, checking out the beaches along the way.
The beach right in front of us is a rock and pebble affair, Playa de las Coloradas.
Up over the shoulder of land and we are on the bluffs. The first beach is the largest, Playa Mujeres. It is a long, golden sand beach with lava cliffs on each end. In the morning it was hardly occupied, but by the afternoon it was getting more crowded, though certainly not side by side with people. This beach was pretty windy, and the sand stung us as we walked along. The ends of the beach are clothing optional.
On the far end you can work your way around the base of the cliff to a small cove with another nice, but tiny beach, Caleton del Cobre. This is the place if you want some quiet and more solitude. It too is clothing optional.
The next beach was the best beach, in my opinion. Not as long as Mujeres, but not small and certainly not crowded, Playa del Pozo was just right. Golden sand, both sides flanked by the lava cliffs which cut the wind, and clear blue water. I think this was the most chill beach, with about 50% nude sunbathers, 30% topless, and the last 20% clothed. A couple families were here, but it was mostly adults, 30 max, spread out along the beach. This is the only one of the three main beaches with no parking lot, so you have to walk up and over the hills to get in here, which might explain the lack of crowds. You know how people are lazy…
This beach is also interesting for the history. This is where the Normans landed and built a fort and church in 1402. There are water wells here (one is still uncovered and the “well” is a water seep). Thus the city of Rubicón was founded. The beach made for a natural port, but also lent itself to pirate attacks so the city didn’t last long. There are the wells, protected by concrete walls and covered, and a cross marks where the church used to be.
The last and most famous beach is Papagayo. This is the one pictured in the brochures and on postcards, and yes it is pretty. It’s like a crescent at the bottom of a steep-sloped amphitheater, almost like a volcano crater with one side blown out. Rocks extend the crescent out into the ocean a ways, making it a beauty. The problem is the beauty and fame. It was packed full of people; more here than in the other three beaches combined. And it is the smallest of Pozo and Mujeres.
The upside is that there are two bars here, overlooking the cove. We dropped in for lunch: I had a margarita that was 99% tequila and 1% the lime wedge, and Gail had a smoothie. We split an order of hot salty fries.
You can drive out to these beaches and the three that are on the other side of the point of land, but you have to pay to enter the area. We simply walked here, an easy five mile round trip.
We ended the day with a dinner that is probably one of the best five meals I have ever had. It is good enough that it gets its own blog post. Here is a sneak preview:
Chocolate Rabbit Brownies.
Chocolate.
Rabbit.
As in the little furry animals.
Made into a brownie.
Fred Olson ferry. You can book and buy online. There is another company, Armas, but their web site did not work so I have no comparison in price. You need your passport number, car lisence number, and credit card to buy.
Honestly, Lanzarote is really not a place I will return to. I am glad to have seen it and to be able to compare it with other places, but I personally find it lacking. The real lack of anything green, the monotonous white houses and brown landscape, the often hazy air and constant wind.
The question is:
What is Fuerteventura like?