Fuerteventura, traditional post of November

So far, this is probably my favorite kite ever. It was there all these years, I think. I even have it on the cover screen of my laptop. Looks alive, doesn’t it? Like a sandworm, except harmless and beautiful

This November, as every November over the last few years, I flew to Fuerteventura to see the kites flying. I am not sure if the magic of the event works on everybody, but is certainly works on me — the white sand of the dunes, the volcanoes, the proximity of the ocean, and huge colorful objects suspended in the air, casting their shadows — it is all very Dalí-esque, surreal and beautiful.

Lomo de San Pedro - Cuevas de Berbique - Puerto de Las Nieves

Impressive cliffs of Tamadaba.

After I went to see Cenobio de Valeron I've shown pics of it to my walking companions. One of them said that it looked similar to Cuevas de Berbique, a toponym which I had never heard before. Of course I had to find out where it was (close to Agaete) and how to get there. To my pleasure I discovered that it is possible to do a linear walk past the caves using the public transport. You have to start from San Pedro (there is more than one San Pedro, so careful, San Pedro of Agaete). Currently, there is a bus from Galdar to "Valle" (which is valley of Agaete). The end of the walk is in Puerto de las Nieves, and there are buses to Las Palmas every hour.

Cenobio and Tagoror, Montaña del Gallego

Wonderfully weird and organic

Cenobio de Valerón, “Valeron monastery”, is one of the iconic sights of Gran Canaria. It is not really a monastery, and by looking at it now, it is hard to imagine why would anybody think it was. If you consider that the capsule-style hotels were unknown in the West when is was first named “monastery”, it seems even more puzzling. The caves are small and rather shallow, so that even Diogenes would probably grow claustrophobic and wish to move to New York.

Anyway, for one reason or other, the cave complex of Valeron was thought to be a monastery, till somebody realized it looked very similar to granaries in North Africa. Now it is thought to have been a collective granary, with posted guards and doors closing each storage space, featuring a pintadera, i.e. the seal of the owner. It must have been a fascinating humanhill.

Cantabria, short coastal walk

A Nevermore moment (see the black object on the top of the chapel? It is a raven, doing his thing)

This year on our holidays I wanted to do a bit of the Camino de Santiago, the Way of Saint James. As you can see from the Wikipedia map (if you didn't know it perfectly well already), there is not one path but many, all leading to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia.

I saw the scallop signs of the Camino on Santander's pavements last year and got curious, purely from the hiking point of view. A little research showed that the Santander route is not considered to be the "main" one, but that didn't deter me. What did though was the discovery that even the variation of the path that goes through Santander doesn't run along the coast. It is parallel, roughly, but not close.

So. What follows is not really a part of the Camino, it is just a possible way to go walk west from Santander. It (almost) links to the spectacular Costa Quebrada. Physically it links, you just carry on along the coast, it is just that I don't have the record for the linking bit. If you are looking for scenic, I reckon the coastal path is your best bet. And if you are intent on doing the "real" camino, it runs really close inland, so you can stamp your passport and  stay in pilgrims' refuges.

Gran Canaria, Temisas — Aguimes, with a visit to Barranco de Las Vacas

Horizontal panorama

Some time ago I wrote that we would repeat the visit to the Barranco de Las Vacas following a linear route Temisas — Aguimes. Since then we have visited the area twice. First we did the linear route (find the map below), with a visit to the cave complex Cuevas de la Audiencia very close to Temisas. I don’t have any photos of the caves, partially because they are VERY dark (it’s almost like being blind!), but mainly because they were chock-full of people. To be fair, we went on a bank holiday, so the hikers were out in force, more on that later.

Second time we went from Aguimes (and back) with a specific purpose in mind — that is, to make a photosession with Timur playing his guitar there.

Noche de San Juan in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria

Wow. I'd never seen a firework blast like this before

Every Year, Saint John's Eve is celebrated in the beautiful city of Las Palmas. It has something to do with the foundation of the city, although the idea that it was founded precisely on Saint John's day seems unlikely to me.

Anyway, the celebration is a part of "Fiestas Fundacionales", associated strongly with Saint John (i.e. San Juan) and is most certainly of pagan origin. It is basically a Midsummer midnight madness, except it is shifted by a couple days.

Botanic Gardens - Triana walk

 Globularia sarcophylla, globe daisy endemic to Gran Canaria. Apparently it grows only in Tirajana. I've never seen it in the wild, have to look for it, it is sort of cute.

Couple of days ago, Timur and I decided to check out a relatively new walking path. It links one of the old areas of Las Palmas - Triana* to Canarian Botanic Garden in Tafira Baja (Jardin Canario).

I have no explanation as to why I have never written about Jardin Canario before, since we've visited it many times. As the name suggests, the emphasis in planting is on the native flora, but it is not exclusive - Canaries used to be a testing ground for plants from different parts of the world, mostly from the Americas**. There are some rare, vulnerable and endangered species, some of them beautiful, some less so. So, let's start with some pictures from the garden.

Barranco de las Vacas, Gran Canaria

Once again, Facebook brought me something useful — this time a reference to a place called Barranco de Las Vacas (Cows’ Ravine) between the hill town Aguimes and small hamlet Temisas. The place is characterized by beautiful striation on the walls of the ravine, not dissimilar to those of Barranco de los Enamorados on Fuerteventura.

The distance between them is about 9 km by hiking path and it is a relatively flat walk. The ravine is somewhat closer to Aguimes, so this time we decided to walk from there (see the route and additional notes below).

Las Fallas 2018

First published 27 March 2018 @ Listen, Learn, Read

According to my old Rough Guide to Spain (this book served me well but I left it to my flatmates three years ago), Las Fallas are one of the Spanish “Big Four”, together with Semana Santa, Feria de Abril and San Fermín. Strangely enough, the Carnival is not among them.

Now it so happened that I, quite intentionally, stopped in Valencia en route to Boston and back, being able to see some of the festival and even take some pictures of it. For the benefit of those who never heard of ​Las Fallas, I allow myself to explain what’s going on here.

La Falla Convent de Jerusalem-Matemàtic Marzal

Flora of Gran Canaria — Canary Island Pine, Pinus canariensis

New shoots coming out of a thick scorched branch

Do you remember this line from Naked Gun 33⅓:

“We analyzed the wood fibers in the paper and found them to be from the rare Canary Island pine, which grows only in Oregon.”

Seriously! Does the Canary Island pine, Pinus canariensis, even grow in Oregon?! Yes it does. Just look at the map privided by the American Conifer Society website [1]. You can’t find this tree inland because it doesn’t tolerate frost.

Inagua in winter and spring

View inland from Degollada de las Brujas

Reserva natural integral de Inagua (strict nature reserve Inagua) is a protected pine forest in the southwest part of Gran Canaria. Technically, it consists of three different forests - Inagua (confusing, innit?), Ojeda and Pajonales, but they are merged together anyway. The whole reserve is shared between three municipalities (Tejeda, La Aldea and Mogan). Almost all of the trees that grow there are Canarian Pines (Pinus canariensis). Canarian pine is interesting - it has such a thick bark that trees can survive forest fires, that is why it is now planted elsewhere in the wildfire-prone places. 

It reminds me that I have seen new shoots coming directly out of burnt trunks where the last forest fire happened. Maybe the next blog entry will be dedicated to how the site recovers).

Coming down from Montana de Inagua. We look like The Company from the Lord of the Rings.

Gran Canaria — Planting trees

Most people seem to be engaged in picture-taking, but still

According to Wikipedia, the whole area of Gran Canaria is 1,560 square km. The density of forests vary. I found the following piece of information: when planting, you need to leave three meters between seedlings (assuming square grid for simplicity), which will make, should they all survive, 100 000 trees per square km. So, to cover whole of Gran Canaria with forests, you need to plant 156 million trees.

Well, now consider that some areas are forest already, some are fields and pastures, some are dunes; they don’t need or can’t be planted. So, once again, for simplicity’s sake, let’s say you only need to plant a half of this amount (I’d say even less, but a half is nice *). So, 78 million trees.

Now, the population is 848 thousand. It means that if every single person goes and plants 90 (approximately) trees, the job is done.

Now, why do I try to figure it out, you might well ask.

It’s because this over the last month I have been to two reforestation events and only planted eight trees in total, and the planting season is over this year, so... it’ll take me ten to twelve years to make my fair share of planting :)

Almonds of Tejeda, 2018

Heart-stopping beauty

Every year, the almond trees of Gran Canaria put forth a beautiful show of blooms. The almond flower festival is also supposed to happen every year, but this year, it didn’t, first time in decades. Bad weather hit it, bringing first a good(ish) snowfall to the mountains, then wind, then snowfall again... First, the festival was postponed, then postponed again and finally cancelled altogether, when it became clear that almonds are already past the maximum blooming stage.

Fuerteventura, November 2017 - Kite festival and some other things

The octopus keeps turning up every year. He is one of the biggest kites at the festival.

Every year, in November, мы с друзьями ходим в баню I go to Fuerteventura to see the kites. There is a festival in the dunes, and I have covered it already a few times. It started when we were living on the island, and that was when I got hooked.

I missed the year when we were living in Finland, but apart from that I always caught the festival, at least partially.

Sharks are beginning to fly in the morning

Gran Canaria, October 2017: one month after wildfire and a new toy

Caldera de Tejeda planet

After the wildfire of September 2017 I try to go to Las Cumbres, the highest area of the island, as often as I can, to check things out. I am happy to report that some visible changes are happening already, and I expect many more will happen once we start getting some seasonal rains.

Gran Canaria after the forest fire, September 2017

Spooky beauty of burnt pines

The Canary Islands are not very seasonal, but there is a significant difference in rainfall between winter and summer. By the end of each summer, Gran Canaria turns yellow and brown; pine trees and evergreens resist, but not very successfully. Flora is dormant; everything waits for the winter rains.

And everything is gunpowder-dry.

Every year the island council (Cabildo) closes public BBQs, so that no stray sparks fly. They hire special people to watch for forest fires*, they ask people to stay vigilant, etc., etc.

But the island with all its inhabitant and tourists and all the activity is too complex a system to always work as desired. So forest fires happen, and there was one this year.

Cantabria, Costa Quebrada

Los Urros de Liencres panorama

While Kirill had already lived and worked in Santander a couple of years ago, it was only this summer that me and Timur visited it for the first time. Santander itself, at least in summer, looks like a good place to be, but I was more interested in seeing the surroundings of it, the coast of Cantabria. It didn't disappoint.

Approaching Playa de Covachos

Ascent of Teide

The summit of Teide is small, so there is only a limited number of people who can fit.

This summer started well for me — I went up Teide, the tallest mountain of the Canary Islands, Spain, and the entire Atlantic basin. Sounds impressive, right? Though of course, as mountains go, it is not that huge — under 4 km. Still, I have never been anywhere over 2000 metres before, so... I am really quite pleased with myself and with the way it went.

It was all a bit sudden. I was studying the Arawak webpage for a while, thinking that maybe one day I should do it, while we live here on the Canaries. When on a walk with Arawak, I spoke to our guide about the indicated level of difficulty (3+/4 out of 5, that’s pretty high). He said that in his opinion I had nothing to worry about, level-wise, but that if I wanted to do it in June, I had to book immediately, because there were very few places left (like, two). I nodded along, still undecided. Later, on the bus back to Las Palmas, he fiddled with his phone, turned to me and said “You know what, I’ve booked you just in case. You can always cancel it”. That was a «волшебный пендель» (magical kick in the butt that speeds you along), and the end of my hesitations.

Playa de Güigüí, the secret beach

Impressive cliffs, right?

I suppose Guigui (pardon me for not going into all that umlaut nonsense from this point on*) is Gran Canaria's equivalent of Cofete beach on Fuerteventura. Although it is nowhere as large or as beautiful, it has one very important advantage - you can swim there reasonably safely without being swept into the ocean, never to be seen again.

One disadvantage (although it is debatable if this is indeed a disadvantage) is that Guigui is even less accessible than Cofete. There is no road at all; your choice is either walk or go by boat. Going by boat is expensive; plus, there is absolutely nothing at all on the beach, no bar, almost no shade in the second half of the day, zero, zilch, nada. And, if you decide to extract the maximum value out of the boat ride both ways and stay there for at least three hours you will end up severely sunburned and quite possibly really, really bored.

Inagua, the empty one

Some of the remaining old pines. Apparently, they grow in a very very uniform conical shape up to a certain age; after which they start to spread into an umbrella at the top.

I have refused to drive in the mountains on Gran Canaria ever since I got stuck on the pass of Degollada de las Yeguas on our way from Fataga to Ingenio. Having learned to drive in East Anglia, I prefer my roads straight, wide and flat; here I prefer to be driven. However, local public transport, although overall excellent, quite logically doesn't go where there are no people to carry. So some of the areas to the west of the island remained unexplored by me till this year, including some of the protected areas, such as Pilancones and Inagua.