Reptile, anyone?

If you are coming on holiday to La Palma then one of the things that might interest you apart from taking in the culture, views and tranquility is reptile spotting.

 There are two main sorts on La Palma, those being the lagarto lizard and the gecko. Broadly speaking the lagartos are the ones that you will see during the day as they peak out from rocky walls or sprint across the road or path with the impressive speed of a clockwork toy or nibble at your banana when you're not looking. Geckos on the other hand are altogether more demure generally sticking (literally) to walls and ceilings and prefer evenings when tasty moths are about.

When you first start to spot the lagarto lizards you will quickly realise that there are two distinct groups of these - the larger, blue-cheeked variety with a head resembling a miniature dinasour -

 and the smaller brown lizard who dresses in stripes. Yes, you guessed it - blue for a boy and, well, brown, for a girl.

If you absolutely hate reptiles though or have a phobia about them, then don't worry because they really won't bother you or even eat you alive. Mostly. They only measure around 20cm in length which includes the tail, so not quite of the mammoth proportions of the Komodo dragon at around 3 metres. Now the Komodo's have been known to attack and devour a person. Raugh! Just fooling.
However, whilst the lagartos have many plus points from an interest point of view, such as their ability to jettison their tail in an emergency (cats like lagartos) the geckos win hands down for me.

 Not only are they gravity-defying with their amazing sticky little hands and a much calmer character than the lagartos but they have the kind of perpetual wide-eyed look of the innocent.  They seem to say 'Who?  Me?'  You've just gotta love them!

Sleeping on the Job

Meet Pancho, the finca feline. But he wasn't always called Pancho of course.

When we first came here and cleared the waist-high weeds at the front of the house, the mice were fairly disgruntled at being evicted but more than happy to set up home in the casita. This was not entirely to our liking and we asked our neighbour if he could get us a cat or kitten.

He would be pleased to do so, he told us. But it couldn't just be any ordinary cat - it had to be a good hunter. He had one in mind for us whose father, he told us, was as big as a tiger.

One day, he presented us with Pancho, a tiny ball of fluff with big eyes.

'If you think it's ugly,' said the neighbour, 'just let it go.' The country people here are tough.

But since when has a kitten been ugly? So of course we kept him. But for some reason we assumed he was a she (cute, cuddly, all the female attributes). And so we called her Francesca after the area in which we live, Franceses.

Francesca grew up and not only became an intrepid hunter of mice, lizards and rabbits, but grew body parts that girls don't have.

So Francesca became Francisco.

'Ah,' said our neighbour, 'all Francisco's here get the nickname Pancho.'

So that's how Pancho got his name. Here he is keeping guard.