Arepas

I just love signs like this – emblematic of yesteryear.

What this is advertising is a brand of cornflour, El Jable, which is used in making a dish called Arepas, popular in South America and now here in the Canaries. They are along the lines and size of a toasted sandwich, the bread part being made of a mix of cornflour and water which is flattened and cooked on a griddle or in a frying pan. Then you make them into a pocket and fill it with whatever you choose.
This sign is in Los Llanos and you can get the aprepas in many bars there but also right around the island. The good part is that they are also very cheap, often around a Euro or just over for an arepa – you might want two though!
In fact, our first cookery lesson here in La Palma was on making arepas. Our dear, late neighbour, Pedro happened to mention that he was having them for lunch and I commented that I didn't know how to cook them. He immediately said that we must learn and invited us – for the first time – into his home.
Pedro's home was what used to be a pajero, a single roomed stone construction used for storing straw for the animals. It was simple and beyond. No water, no electricity, just his bed, a few items of clothing hanging from nails on the wall and a two ring camping gas balanced on an old wooden barrel. His few tools for digging the land hung about in the corners as did his old boots. It was in this inauspicious place that we would learn to make arepas.
And Pedro was well qualified to teach us, having gone to Venezuela as a young man to find work in the tobacco plantations (the legacy of which caused him to address David as 'Mr. David') and only returned some forty years later.
Pedro's arepas were the best I have ever tasted. If you are in the capital, you can get them at various places – I suggest you try El Encuentro bar in the Plaza de Almendras which is where the boat is, at the far end from the harbour. Enjoy!

The GR 130, El Roque to Tijarafe

So! Onward with our quest to walk some more of the GR 130. (Apologies to those who are not remotely interested, but you might have to bear with me for a while).

Yesterday, we decided to walk from a little place called El Roque which is near Puntagorda in the west and sits rather conveniently at an intersection of the GR 130 where it crosses the main road. Not only was it convenient to park (unlike Las Tricias which was our first port of call but rejected on the basis of being heaving with cars and enthusiastic-looking walkers, like us), but it also has a beautiful bus stop!
El Roque sits behind the main road, so we could almost be forgiven for not having noticed it in the past, but we were immediately impressed with its facilities – nothing less than a telecentro with internet connection. But that is not of course what we were there for. It seemed that music classes were also in progress as the lilting notes of a clarinet floated out onto the streets. And nice people nodded and smiled -what a good start!
We followed the little lane along – in fact we guessed that this had probably been the main road at one time – and congratulated ourselves on our good luck. The sun was shining, the lane quickly turned into a miniature cobbled streets lined by interesting looking houses and we had all day to do the walk.
Within five minutes we were lost. And five minutes later were were lost again. This was not such a good start and we made many mutterings about the lack of a sign just where we needed it. Well, we would just have to guess that the route took us over a pile of sand which formed the building site of somebody's restoration project and sure enough – just where there was no fork in the path, there was the trusty red and white stripe confirming that we were in fact still en route.
Now the route seemed more obvious and we could follow wooden railings. Oh no, this wasn't it – this was up the famous dragon tree, we should have followed the unmarked track without railings.
In spite of a less than auspicious first half hour, it was a day for enjoying ourselves and the route provided an ever changing set of landscapes for us to walk in.
At one point, we were up in the pine forest walking high above the road, then we were down in the bottom of a barranco, clambering over rocks and next walking along a sunny flower-lined path. It was all glorious.







Then there were places with an accumulation or even just a scattering of houses. David and I are of course fascinated by all things building and since the GR 130 is lined in parts by houses, there was plenty for us to admire. And otherwise. There are the old stone dwellings, some of them sadly giving way to collapse, flat roofed houses with many extensions of various sorts, grand Canarian houses in the middle of nowhere and all styles in between.
It wasn't until we had been on the route for around three hours and enjoyed a leisurely picnic lunch that we realised we had in fact been dawdling and if we didn't get a move on, we would miss our bus in Tijarafe, the idea being that we would catch the bus back to our start point of El Roque. And being a Saturday, buses are fairly few and far between.
Luckily, the route was now much easier and what could be called almost flat – well, to someone who has lived on La Palma for a while anyway! Now we contented ourselves to comment and admire on the move - a sweet kitten, an intricately carved door, potatoes growing in super-neat lines, a tree in an orchard dripping with a hundred lemons, an industrial tank with Koi carp in it, huge (and I mean huge) dandelion clocks growing at the side of the path, terraces filled with lush-looking avocado trees and how the GR 130 signs were now rapidly revealing that we only had 6.3 km, 4.8 km, 2.4 km, 1.1 km to walk to Tijarafe.

At this rate we would even have time for a cold beer before the bus came!
Well, in actual fact, there was just time to get lost again. Our suspicions that we were now 'off route' were confirmed when we passed two more junctions in the track with no indication of where to go. But by now we could see Tijarafe very close by and we just followed our noses, practically leaping up a rough old path, half covered in long grass, incentive firing our boots into action.
Ah, time for a beer after all and be ready for the bus whose expected arrival we noted was 'approximate.' Happily, we were there waiting when it arrived almost ten minutes early.