Busy doing nothing

‘But what do you do?’ is one of the desperately searching questions we receive from time to time from puzzled guests. It is a fair point. After all, they have usually just arrived at our haven of ‘splendid isolation’ having driven from the nearest town of Barlovento some 25 minutes away. It is a fairly tortuous route which will take them on a switch-back of mountain road, swooping helplessly in and out of ravines and clinging nervously to single track sections with their charming, yet sincere, no-coming-back drop-offs. Plus of course they will have been through the numerous reflex testers - blind bends - meeting with a 4 x 4/ bus/ horse/ cow-laden lorry/ hire car on the wrong side of the road. Or even more unnervingly, a herd of goats gazing into space or a thoughtless rock fall just around the corner. In the course of those 25 stimulating minutes and through some of the most spectacular and up-lifting scenery on the island, they will have travelled only 13 km.

At the suggestion that we might exist in a rabid vacuum of boredom, our little hermit-like backs ruffle as we absent-mindedly plait escaping ear hair.

But in an effort to try and not be too prickly, I try and analyse it and wonder just what we do do on this secluded island.

I think the whole debacle simply comes down to the fact that we live on this beautiful island and we are not on a holiday where the prime requisites are eating out, laying on the beach and evening entertainment, all of which to some extent can be done even in the rural north. And so, since we live here, we find the days are just never long enough to fit in all the varied things we want to do. Of course, we have the usual chores that house owning brings – cleaning, general maintenance, home improvements, to name but a few. Not to mention around 2 acres of land where we try and coax life into vegetables which will in turn coax life into us. Then there is shopping which, due to our ‘remote’ location is usually a whole day event from which we return exhausted and with such a huge amount of groceries, we declare that we will ‘never have to shop again’. Then there are our neighbours who deserve at least the occasional visit to assure them that we are still alive (though not always visibly) and to check that none of them have accidently got kicked in the face by a bull, chopped their thumb off or turned their car upside down in a ditch – all of which have happened, incidentally.

Then there is writing (ah yes, there is a book in it – the void is being filled as we speak AKA: watch this space), learning to play the guitar (of which approximately 3 minutes per occasional day is allocated until frustration sets in), walking and swimming.

In addition to which we are lucky enough to be able to socialise further afield. A visit to our time-generous friends for an afternoon of bar-b-que and banter (and maybe some guitar playing for a real treat, though not by us I hasten to add) is unexpectedly mind-soothing and always makes us wonder why we can’t be that nice.

And camping.

Ah, the bliss of camping. And so we pack up and set off to find some more splendid isolation on another part of the island. And La Palma offers this reckless past-time in such a seemingly inadvertent, almost casual way that makes it such a surprising delight. The recipe is simple. Take an altitude of 1,500 metres above sea level, plant more pine trees than you can possibly count, sit back for more years than you can ever remember and watch them grow. Then put a camp site in the middle of it with a generous, yet semi-secluded, scattering of bar-b-que cabins complete with free fire wood.

It is a formula for success. To wake up in the woods, washed by dappled sunlight, has got to be one of the more special moments in life. To stretch your arms in still sleepy wakefulness, where the trees reach to the sky has got to be, well, where it's all about.

Flying the flag of freedom

Pictured here is a friendly raven who resides ‘up top,’ namely the Roque de Muchachos. We call him Ronaldo Raven (obviously) and he really is quite a poser for the camera. First he sits atop the trig point and then when he feels he has attracted all the photos he reasonably can expect, he has a short fly over to the information hut for more snaps.

The raven is a member of the chough family which is the symbolic bird of the island. This bird has a distinctive red beak and likes to inhabit caves, of which there are any number on the island, so housing will certainly not be an issue.

However, bird watching is probably not the first thought that will spring to mind when you think of La Palma. And it is true that to the undiscerning eye, the skies will appear to be fairly devoid of bird life, and since hedgerows are not necessarily abundant, it could be claimed to be true.

But it is in fact far from the truth as you will readily discover and even while you are still in bed, you will be aware of bird life. First the blackbird will have a good splash in the pond, carrying out its ablutions with amazing efficiency and zest. And once you are ready to start the day yourself, you can begin to enjoy the varied bird life.

Hawks are a very common sighting on La Palma, both the sparrow hawk and the Common Kestrel. The raucous mating call will often attract your first attention, or you will spot them swooping in the barrancos looking for prey or sitting on top of a nearby post. The kestrels will often swoop surprisingly low, especially when you are out driving in the car when you may also spot an impressively large common buzzard.

Excitement comes when you see the swifts out in ‘air-force’, sweeping and swooping in joyous unity. One swallow may not make a summer, but you can be sure that it will swiftly be with us. (sorry about that)

The humble pigeon is not always viewed as a treat to see but they are beautiful none the less. Many you will see are ringed, as racing is a popular sport among the islands, and they will often try and stay with us longer than they should. But if you get the chance, duck into laurasilva forest of Los Tilos or nearby La Zarza and you may see the laurel pigeon, Bolle’s pigeon or the collared dove, beautiful with their fascinating plumage.

And in the evening, settle back for your free in-flight display courtesy of the Canarian chiffchaff. Similar to the robin but with a yellow-green chest, they will delight you with their unrehearsed choreography. Watch entranced as they move as one, like a swirling cloak, first this way and that, momentarily all landing in a fig tree or cactus where they are hardly visible until they take flight again, as one.

Truly a delight and one of the many things I love about La Palma.

The Battle of Lepanto

Every 3 years, Barlovento in the north west of the island stages the re-enactment of the naval Battle of Lepanto. It is a spectacle which is the highlight of the two week fiesta held between 31st July and 15th August in honour of Nuestra Señora del Rosario, our Lady of the Rosary, the patron saint of Barlovento. In fact, the re-enactment of the battle of Lepanto (Italian name of the Greek port from where the Ottomans had their naval base) which happened in 1571, is a great tradition in Barlovento and is the only place in the Canaries to celebrate it and therefore a claim to fame for the town.
The Battle of Lepanto between the Holy League (which comprised the Knights of Malta, Spain, the Papal States, republic of Genoa, the Duchy of Savoy, the republic of Venice and others) and the main fleet of the Ottoman war galleys gave control to the Holy League over the Mediterranean and prevented the Ottomans from entering Europe. It was fought solely from rowing vessels (around 500 in total), involved around 23,000 dead, wounded or captured, 10,000 Christian slaves released and, according to some historians, was one of the world’s most decisive battles since 31 BC.
The Holy League credited the victory to the Virgin Mary to whose intercession with God they had implored for victory through the use of the Rosary. A new feast day was instituted which is now called the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary and this is why Barlovento has the honour to represent it.
The spectacle started with Our Lady of The Rosary being carried from the church in all her glory and prayers being said. We then watched transfixed, if one can be for an hour, as the Christians slowly swayed themselves and their boat across the surrounding fields of Barlovento. The Moors meanwhile, protecting their castle on the far hill, squabbled amongst themselves either out of boredom, historical accuracy or an attempt to entertain the crowds, which I must say, it did. The Christians eventually arrived at the castle in their boat which sported impressively large sails and was surrounded by several Turk boats. Following the 'sinking' of a couple of the boats, an vigorous and 'bloody' battle then ensued along with numerous explosions which literally threw the soil into the air creating large dust clouds.
Eventually, after having leapt up several times, the Moors were conquered, taken as prisoner and dragged off to the church to be converted to Catholicism.
Well done Barlovento and all who took part. It was an impressive performance and followed – of course – by much music and merriment far into the night.
For more photos check out http://www.photobox.co.uk/album/60703095

Who is calling, please?

A walk on La Palma is not like a walk anywhere else I know.

What brings this about I wonder. Is it the diversity of the scenery, the views, the stillness? Well, yes in a way. These very things are all brought about by the landscape which could be described as harsh yet beautiful. It depends on your point of view – whether you are a keen walker with plenty of time on your hands and keen to explore or a subsistence farmer with 10 hungry children to feed and inhospitable land on which to grow your crops.

One thing is for sure though, life was hard in the old days with families scattered across the unyielding countryside. Communication could therefore be a problem when you lived practically in the middle of nowhere.

But for us casual hikers, there is an almost guaranteed surprise to be found on some part of almost any route. This photo was taken on a walk from La Zarza to Santo Domingo. Having left San Antonio and any possible civilization, we were soon in a desolate wilderness with nothing but undulating countryside and long abandoned terraces. There were no hamlets in sight, let alone villages, and no sign of habitation except one elderly man sitting silently outside his remote house apparently also looking at the emptiness. After another half hour or so of walking, there stood a second house made of local rocks and tea wood, the heart of the pine tree. It looked abandoned (as do many of the inhabited houses deep in the country) and we headed toward it to seek some shade in which to enjoy our picnic.

It was in fact abandoned, but imagine our surprise to discover that it once hosted the local telephone. In its time, it was doubtless an incredible boon to anyone who would be glad to walk however many hours to get to it. An amazing advancement.

And now deserted, no longer of use. Quite sad, but beautiful in its way, and it felt special to discover this evidence of a past way of life even, or especially, in this remote outpost.

It seemed to quietly say, ‘it wasn’t always like this you know.’

Secret coves, special times

When you are driving around in the car on a sizzling summer day, you have to wonder why on earth you are not outside enjoying the sun.
At least though, with the car, you have a chance to explore one of the many hidden coves around the island.
It happened on such a day while between Puntagorda and Santo Domingo that we got the map out. We noticed a couple of places where it looked like you could get down to the sea, first on a rough track and then by foot.
We found what we thought was the track leading off the main road although it wasn’t signposted in any way. We bumped our way along the track for 10 minutes until it opened out into a parking space big enough for a couple of cars. It was no surprise to see that there were no other cars.

The sea, still some 200 metres below us, looked enticing and we tried to decide how much we were prepared to carry down the narrow path. Swimsuits, mask and snorkel was a given.

It seems to us that really, no matter where you go on La Palma, no matter how difficult the access, no matter how remote, people will have been there before doing the seemingly impossible. After a shaky start trying to locate the exact route of the path, it narrowing and becoming increasingly difficult as limbs were forced to dangle over the edge, we came to a part with ‘proper’ concrete steps and a rail. To imagine the workers carrying the materials down did not bear thinking about.

After a good 20 minutes we arrived at the little rocky beach at the bottom. We were pretty pleased with our discovery of this seemingly deserted cove – even if there were 3 dwellings there. We can only think that the materials were brought in by boat. It really does defy belief.

Ready to get in the water now, we climbed over a huge rock, then a smaller one and then a smaller again until we could slide into the sea.

Ah, bliss!

The sun, glittering on the water like a million stars, the cool and refreshing sea, the sound of the water slapping against the rocks and …. just us.

It really is quite special. Why don't you try it sometime?

Going Chinese

Whilst La Palma is sometimes a surprising island, I have to admit this photo was not taken here. It was taken on Lantau Island, Hong Kong. Why a picture of it on this blog I hear you say. Because that is where we were May/July.

If you have any questions re Hong Kong or indeed mainland China itself, please feel free to ask!

Acting the Goat

What is it about goats?

I remember the first time I saw a goat herd on the road in La Palma. We had to sit and wait in the car until they had all passed by. I was so excited, I pleaded for (and got) us to turn the car around and see them all over again.

I suppose it is just something you do not regularly see in the UK. But here in the area of Garafia in the north of La Palma, there are more goats than people and it is a regular treat to see them as they return home for their milking session.

Most people who live around here, deep in the countryside, are at least partly self-sufficient. Potatoes are the norm. In fact, potatoes are so synonymous with a meal, that it is common to say, ‘Your papas (potatoes) are ready,’ when in fact people really mean that the meal is ready which might not even contain potatoes. But potatoes really are the staple diet and they are eaten most days by the Palmerans. The two main methods of cooking are plain boiled or as papas arrugadas, which are part-boiled and part-steamed using plenty of sea salt. In fact you could be forgiven for thinking that the many little terraces with potatoes growing on them are for commercial purposes, but they are generally for personal and family consumption. No self-respecting Palmeran in the country would think to buy potatoes –and they are not usually available in the village shops anyway. And so even relatives who live in a flat in the city get to share in the harvest of the country.

For fruit and other vegetables, it very much depends on the altitude. Of course, orange trees abound and more exotic fruits such as papaya grown nearer to sea level. Avocados, plums, apples and figs are often found growing on deserted trees and are there for the picking. Truly a Garden of Eden! Palmerans are not great vegetable eaters but some of the favourites to grow are broad beans, pumpkin, sweet potato, onions and cabbage. Of course, orange trees abound

Like us, many people also keep chickens. They are easy and quite cheap to look after and provide wholesome fresh eggs. We do not eat the chickens themselves but the cockerels are quite sought after for the dinner table as they have less fat than the females.

Some people will keep a pig for food though this takes greater skill and commitment. The unwanted vegetables, scraps and leftovers are all boiled up every three days or so and fed to the pig. The pig kindly turns it all into pork which is highly regarded and after 3 to 4 months, he meets his fete. Kind recompense indeed for all his work. The farmer kills the pig, and along with a couple of neighbours, prepares it for eating. Then 20 to 50 friends, neighbours and family are invited to help eat at least half of it and the rest is kept for freezing. Because everyone shares in the country, the farmer can guarantee an invitation to share in someone else’s pig while he is waiting for his next piglet to put on weight.

Rabbit is another popular meat and they are either bred specifically for eating or wild ones are hunted. Many people in the north keep a couple of hunting dogs – rather like whippets – and on specified days which are allowed for hunting, set out to bag a couple to augment the meat supply.

It is not surprising then that goats top the list for the provision of food. With meat, milk and cheese, what look to me like cuteness on four legs are in fact more like meals on wheels.

Photo: Goats in Don Pedro, Garafia.

The balconies of Santa Cruz de La Palma

I love the balconies which iconically adorn so many of the houses and public buildings in the capital of the island. Some are simple in their design though none the less pretty for it while others seem needlessly ornate with their intricate wood carvings. Some are smartly varnished sturdy constructions while others are so dilapidated, they defy gravity as they age into mellow state of ‘not quite level anymore.’ Some are so tiny, you would have to operate a ticket system to take your turn at standing out there whilst others beg for large group gatherings to help fill their ample proportions. But all could tell a tale or two.

In fact, we can thank Andalusia for the balconies as it was migrants from that country who brought the style to La Palma. Later, the Portuguese had an influence on the designs and these ideas were then taken by the Palmerans to Venezuela and Cuba.

But the balconies were not simply there to adorn a building or to while away the time topping up the tan or doing the equivalent of the Daily Telegraph crossword. One of their main purposes was to keep an eye on movements at sea and to this end, some of the balconies are curiously fully enclosed with a small sliding peep-hole from where to watch – unwatched. . For it is from these balconies that there is an unhindered view to the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean. At one time they literally bordered the shores though nowadays, having reclaimed a section of land, there is a wide, mainly dual carriageway road and a car park in between. Maybe not an improvement in some eyes but it would certainly tend to stop most pirate ships dropping in for tea.

Knowing La Palma, you would not expect the curiosity to end there. Like any good tale, it has a mysterious thread which runs through it. For some reason best known to himself, King Felipe II took a dislike to balconies. Maybe he thought they put a chap at a disadvantage because you see, the balconies are actually at the back of the house. Therefore, on seeing a ship on the horizon that he didn’t want to see, this would leave the occupant ample time to pack, say a lengthy farewell to friends and family and bake a final loaf in the oven before fleeing out of the front door into the myriad of narrow streets. But whatever reason, the order was sent by ship that all balconies on La Palma and other Canary Islands should be torn down.

And the best bit of the story is that the ship, along with its order, never actually arrived here on La Palma.

Curious.

Christmas Day

Christmas Day – Santa Cruz de La Palma. A day of celebrations with live music, market stalls and the towering Tall Ships.

For the last 12 years, the Canary Islands has been the meeting ‘ground’ for the Tall Ships, the multi-sailed masters of the sea, many from yesteryear. It is a wonderful idea not just for the crews of the ships but also for the residents and visitors to La Palma to have a get together at a time which is after all, traditionally a time to be with your own family. And so for those who are away from ‘home’ the special atmosphere generated by a throng of happy and peaceful people goes a long way to making Christmas that bit more special.

Actually, the Tall Ships have more purpose than just drifting around the islands. Most are part of a special project, such as providing a learning opportunity and a unique experience for underprivileged and disabled youngsters.

This is the website for it:

www.tallshipslapalma.com