Smuggler's Cove

A couple of weeks ago, whilst overlooking the spectacular Barranco Fagundo from the mirador/restaurant at El Tablado, we noticed that the beach at the mouth of the ravine was sand-covered and looking rather delicious.  Naturally, our curiosity was aroused as this is one beach we have never been to.  Yes, Smugglers' Cove as once frequented by pirates.  So, yesterday, after a one hour walk down the side of the ravine, we arrived at the rocky bottom and set off to explore down towards the sea.

We weren't quite sure how long it would take to arrive at the sea because the bed of the ravine was full of little curves and so it was not possible to see to the end until we were almost there.  However, after ten minutes of picking our way over the rocks, we reached sea level (almost) and were overlooking the little cove.  It was very easy to imagine how pirates could quickly hide themselves in here.

But there was just one problem - a ten metre vertical drop off between us and the beach.  Undaunted, some of the more adventurous in our group of two people were quickly finding a way to get further down.  By edging along a narrow, rough, sloping precipice in a crouching position whilst clinging on tightly with fingertips ....

... a rather random selection of long pieces of driftwood could be reached.  This, I was informed, was a ladder, by means of which we could reach the sea.  

Suffice to say, I was not impressed.  And further still, not one bit convinced that it was important we both had to meet the beach personally.  After all, we've got a perfectly good beach just a twelve minute drive from our house!  So that was decided - I had no intention of attempting this obstacle - I would safely stay at my lofty viewpoint and watch David swim. 

After a good deal of encouragement, persuasion and cajolement, I was down. But why, why is it, when the last thing you want to do is to fall of the edge, you can't help but look down!!  It was in fact easy enough, but if you dislike heights (like me) or have a tendency to trip over almost nothing (like me) or have an over-heightened sense of self-preservation (like me), I don't recommend it one bit.  And there are plenty of other beaches on La Palma of the variety that you just walk onto.

But at least it was a lovely beach - although if I ever go there again (which I doubt), I shall definitely take a tip from the pirates and keep a handy hook up my sleeve.

Looking good

I am in awe of people who can take a 'proper' photograph. And La Palma is certainly chocablock full of opportunities for the keen photographer.
But since I am firmly encamped in the 'point, shoot and hope for the best' brigade, I can hardly complain if the results are not quite as awesome as this photo.


You are looking here at one of the seating areas on the finca - and the view of course. We call it the mirador, meaning lookout point, since it was called this by a walking guide who stayed here. The mirador itself faces due west but the whole of the north coast can be seen from the finca, right from Juan Adalid in the north west and the Mirador de Molino of Barlovento in the north east. Apart from overlooking the sea, it also overlooks the next village of El Tablado and, if the conditions are right, you can even hear people talking in the village despite the fact that it is around 1.4 km away as the crow flies. And of course you can see the goats and hear the tinkling of their bells as they gamble down the sig-zag path from El Tablado, part of the GR130, to the caves where they live in the barranco.
To the south, the ridge of the Caldera can also be seen high above us. It looks like a rather understated onlooker, peering over the shoulders of the green-covered ridges in front of it. On clear days it is backed by an intense blue sky and in winter has the occasional covering of snow.

It's probably a good thing that I'm not SLR competent otherwise the camera would hardly ever be out of my hand.

La Fajana

This is our local beach of La Fajana de Garafia. Generally, it is not a sandy beach (although sometimes there are patches of sand) but rather a rocky beach. To me, it is a wonderful place for a whole number of reasons.
When it is rough, I am amazed at the way the Atlantic rushes in to our shores with such enthusiasm and then breaks its neck on the rocks. Only to rush off and do it all again.
I am amazed at the way anybody every made a road down there. In the degree of difficulty it ranks as about 49.75 billion trillion.
I take my hat off to the eleven people that live down there, working in the banana plantation.
I pay tribuite to the people of El Tablado who would carry great stems of bananas down to the old port in days gone by (several times a day) and to the people who practically risked their lives getting provisions on and off the ships in the old days.
Oh, I could go on. The place is an amazing example of the determination of man in the face of apparent impossibility and of nature at its dramatic best.