We were asked the other day if we had started to take the beauty of the island for granted. Luckily, I cannot imagine this ever happening particularly with sights like this just a 50 minute drive from home.
It's a pretty impressive drive too, rising up from 500 metres above sea level where we live to 2426 metres, the top of the island, driving through sun-dappled pine forests to burst through into a moon-like landscape dotted with state of the art observatories. The contrast is nothing short of crazy.



The photo here shows the Caldera, the largest erosion crater in the world. It measures a fairly unmissable 10km in diameter and is 2000 metres deep.

In the far distance, you can see the southern spine of the island which forms the famous volcano route, the last section of the GR 131. We walked this route in February last year having camped overnight at El Pilar, the start of the final part of the walk. It's pretty amazing looking at it from an entirely different perspective and thinking, 'We were there!'

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.

Colours of the rainbow

The sun was out to play and miniscule shards of rainwater drifted from the sky like confetti. David seized the moment – and took this photo. It seems to sum up our wonderful Christmas and New Year – bright, colourful and just slightly crazy!
In the lead up to Christmas we had some fairly dramatic weather with a very strong wind. It eventually got the better of the electricity supply and we enjoyed a couple of evenings courtesy of candlelight, as did our lovely guests (hi, Jill and Ian).
In a way, it was quite exciting because the wind was warm, hailing from the south and we also knew that we had been lucky to avoid the worst of it while the south and west had been receiving some sterner stuff.
Meanwhile of course the rest of Europe was being held down by heavy snow storms and freezing conditions resulting in cancelled flights, delays and all sorts of travel chaos and despair. We felt lucky that our guests had made it at all! But they did and were soon rewarded by some absolutely glorious weather with full on sun which stayed with us, more or less, right through the New Year.

So here is wishing everybody out there, guests old and new, a wonderful New Year and hoping that 2010 will bring you health, happiness and your very own sunny rainbow.

Ann and David.

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.’

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.

The jewel in the crown

I wonder what springs to mind when you think of the Canary Islands. Crowded beaches, noisy night clubs? Well, if you are thinking of La Palma, you are definitely barking up the wrong tree because the only place you will find a crowd is in the banana plantations.

The fifth largest of the Canary Islands, it sits to the north west of its larger and busier sisters. Bobbing about in the Atlantic Ocean, there is nothing between it and Florida to the west - except for an awful lot of water.

And that is what makes La Palma the perfect place to be – in the middle of nowhere – a place that is secretly hidden from the masses. As she serenely sits, the jewel in the crown with mountainous cloaks in shades of aching green, awesome, amazing and astonishing are the words you are most likely think.

For such a quiet place, there is plenty to do. Known as a walking destination, your legs may just ache a little but I promise you, you will not be bored. Add to that swimming and cycling, sight-seeing and culture and you have an experience to remember.

And the good old favourite which I mustn’t forget to mention. Sitting on the Patio. It is practically a sport in itself and much to be recommended: Simply doing Nothing.