El Camino del Cartero, The Postman’s path, Gran Canaria

La Aldea de San Nicolás to the left. To the right, a new road.

La Aldea de San Nicolás, or simply La Aldea, is the least accessible village of all on Gran Canaria. There are three roads leading to it — one from Mogan, another from Agaete, and another from the central part of the island, Artenara and Tejeda. All three of these roads are quite long on the island’s scale, narrow, curvy and difficult, and at least two of them close whenever it rains. Emergency services occasionally have to go to La Aldea by helicopter, which of course has its own limitations.

Risco Blanco — Pico de Las Nieves — Cañadon del Jierro, Gran Canaria

Risco Blanco, The White Cliff, shining under the sun.

After we had been finally released into the wild post-quarantine, we successfully attempted several quite difficult hiking routes. The temporary (we continue to hope) closure of our favourite hiking company made us go where they’d probably never taken us, for the reason of it being too risky or too hard or both.

Double dose of spring, Gran Canaria

Almonds of Tejeda

This year, since we are allowed to go out and look at the beautiful spring of Gran Canaria, we try to do it as much as possible. Last spring, as I am sure everyone remembers, all or nearly all of Europe was in quarantine. What not everybody knows, perhaps, is how unnecessarily draconian the quarantine was in Spain. We were not allowed to go out of the house except for necessities. Said necessities didn’t include walking or any other form of outdoor physical exercise. Only dog owners were allowed to walk their pets, which give raise to infinite number of memes showing dogs being walked to exhaustion.

Even after we were finally allowed to get out a bit, the requirement of not getting too far from the house was imposed, thus preventing us from seeing the last flowers of spring. So, this year we try to compensate for that. I already did a number of hikes which I haven’t attempted before, and maybe I will write about some of them in details, but this post is here just to show the spring flowers and give very brief indicators as to where and when they could be seen.

Barranco Hondo, the Deep Ravine, and Salinas de Tenefe

Impressive cliffs

The second walk we’ve done in a very short stretch of time — we are all worried that our long awaited freedom will be suddenly taken from us again — is another one that was new for me. The south of the island is full of deep and steep ravines, and one of them has a double arch, called Arco del Coronadero. Of course, we had to go, because, as the famous saying goes, “it’s there”.

Euphorbias large enough for all the King’s horses and all the King’s men to get lost in

Grand Canyon of Gran Canaria — Punta de las Arenas or Playa de Artenara

Smooth sandstone walls, arches, caves and grottoes

While we continue to live in a situation where very few leisure things work*, we have to make do on our own the best we can. Last week we arranged a couple of hikes and I would like to record them. I’ll start with the last one, a hike to Punta Arenas aka Punta de las Arenas, Punta de las Arenas Blancas, a relatively short hike between the old road to La Aldea de San Nicolas and a light colored sandstone cape below it. The various names of the place all refer to Arenas, i.e. sands. I read that what is now sandstone used to be the sand of a beach which due to geological processes has risen above the level of the sea and is now effectively a fossil of a beach. The sandstone is pale yellow, hence the name of Arenas Blancas, i.e. white sands.

The cape, as seen from the beginning of the walk. Most of the path down is done in the shade

Ventana del Bentayga stone arch, interspecies kiss

Do you see a camel on the left and an elephant on the right?

The amusingly-shaped stone arch above is called Ventana del Bentayga, Window of Bentayga. If you are on the right level, Roque Bentayga formation can be seen through it. If you are slightly above the arch, as in one of the photos below, behind and above Bentayga and to its right small white houses of Artenara village are visible, and directly above it — the top of Tamadaba massif. On a good day, Teide is seen on the horizon, too. The height of the opening is about 4.5—5 metres.

Aserrador massif. Road GC-60 circling it, branch to Juncal goes to the left

La Graciosa in summer — 2, Yellow Mountain and walking (a bit)

Amazing color of the Yellow Mountain, Montaña Amarilla

The last time me and Timur went to La Graciosa, the smallest of the inhabited Canary Islands, we only went as far as Playa Francesa, sheltered cove beach where many leaisure vessels anchor for an hour or so. We were not impressed: it was crowded, and there was a pink floating inflatable slide in the water, great way of spoiling beautiful landscape.

This time we wanted to walk a bit more, to get away from the masked crowds, and to try to see the other islands of Chinijo Archipelago from the north shore of La Graciosa. As mentioned in the first post, walking on La Graciosa is not a problem if you don’t mind sand and heat. Distances are ridiculously small and there is no vegetation, so you basically always see where you are and where to go.

North-West of Gran Canaria: Sardina del Norte, Faro Punta de Sardina and rock pools

Small development next to the lighthouse looks Santorini-esque under the hot Canarian sun

By now I walked most of Gran Canaria and liked most of it, too. However, there are still parts of the island of which I am aware mostly because of the photos seen in various social networks. Sometimes I have a feeling people want to keep the most beautiful places to themselves and that is why they don’t explain where they take their photos. If that is the case, they shouldn’t publish the pics in the first place. For me, it works as a challenge, and I imagine I am not the only one.

Beautiful water, isn’t it?

Cruz de Tejeda — Pico de Las Nieves

Million euro view

Pico de Las Nieves is the highest point of Gran Canaria, some 1,949 metres above sea level.
Except it's not really the highest point, because its neighbor rocky outcrop with a hole in it, Morro de la Agujereada, i.e. Holey Mountain, is a few meters taller. But you can't get on the top of Agujereada safely and easily, so Pico de Las Nieves is sold as The Summit.*  It's where you get the classic, the most postcardy view, with Roque Nublo, Roque Bentayga and Teide on Tenerife all in front of you.
I have been to it a few times, even watched the sun setting from there, but somehow failed to write it up.

Third time’s the charm

Finally! A decent pic from the top. Shadow of Papa Teide on the morning mist and anticrepuscular rays

I know it probably sounds ridiculous, but I went up to the top of Teide twice this year. And my stupid persistence finally paid off. Although I am still to see all the other islands from the top, we had a beautiful and not very common view during our ascent at down — anticrepuscular rays. On the first ascent we saw very little because of the calima, on the second the wind was so strong that all we cared about was not to be blown away, and now, finally, a few good pictures, yay.

Honestly, I feel so ridiculously proud of the pic above, as if I have gone and painted the rays in the sky myself.

La Graciosa in summer

Shallow lagoon Bahia de Salino filling with water in high tide

Ok, with all the excitement of the wildfire over, the academic year has started for real, and I feasted my (and, hopefully, your) eyes on the rare sight of freshwater stream on Gran Canaria, I would like to return to our short stay on Lanzarote.

Barranco de los Cernícalos — water!

A small waterfall a bit off the path

Finally, I’ve seen all three places where water always runs on Gran Canaria. Well, actually, there are just two left, poor Barranco de La Mina having been killed off by the owner of the water*. So, now on Gran Canaria you have just two places where freshwater runs all year round — Barranco de Azuaje and Barranco de los Cernícalos, Kestrels’ ravine.

Gran Canaria after forest fire 2019, Cruz de Tejeda — Artenara

These pines kept their needles, although they are dry and yellow. I think they have a good chance of recovery.

I was hoping to never write this kind of report again, but it was not to be.

Only two years after the fire which started inside Caldera de Tejeda and burned the Parador de Tejeda hotel, and despite the controlled burns in the central areas of Gran Canaria, another fire ran through the tops of the island, Las Cumbres. Several fires, to be precise, one of them, tagged in social media with #IFValleseco, especially big.

Lanzarote in summer, Playa de Papagayo

Beautiful water. Playa Mujeres

This year’s summer holidays were a bit scrambled for us, due to this and that. To punctuate the month of August we decided to go to Lanzarote, just for three days. We’ve already been to Lanzarote a few times of course. This time, the aim was to check out Playa de Papagayo, Parrot’s Beach, a small cove beach not far from Playa Blanca, and La Graciosa, the smallest inhabited Canary Island, “the eighth one”.

Controlled burn, silver tansy, and heat of May

An eruption? A wildfire? Nah...

After years living on Gran Canaria I have identified for myself the three main "hanami" events. I try to go and see all three of them each year, but sometimes it proves impossible.
One of them is the blooming of almonds. Another - the blooming of tajinaste azul, blue bugloss of Gran Canaria. And the third one is the blooming of silver tansy, much less obvious event. I guess my attachment to these rare plants is mostly due to the fact that I found and identified them myself, while both almonds and tajinaste are well known seasonal attractions.

Up we go

Alien tentacles! Cthulhu raising to the surface! Tremble, you feeble humans... etc

When I went up the Mount Teide two years ago I didn’t really have a plan. Well, I had the most basic of all plans — to go up and survive. People told me two things at once — first “it’s kinda easy, you just need to pace yourself” and the second “but the altitude sickness can strike even the most fit people”. With this mixed message in mind, I can tell you I was going up listening to myself and asking all the time “am I ok?”, “am I still ok?”. I was perfectly fine, but this type of self-monitoring is not conductive to enjoyment.

This time I knew it was doable, and my first concern was the weather. What if the (blasted) calima turns up again? We won’t be able to see anything!

I can say straight away that we were much luckier this time — there was almost no dust in the air and the visibility was a lot better. First day, we saw Gran Canaria, La Palma and La Gomera above the sea of clouds while still on the bus. Next day, only La Gomera was visible from the top of the mountain at dawn, but that was also fine — I personally didn’t even get the camera out of the backpack, see the explanation later.

Tajinaste azul and other delights

Busy busy bees

When the year is just starting and everything goes green, it is time to check on some of our favourite plants on Gran Canaria.

First plants to start flowering are almonds, no question about that. Weather was fluctuating wildly from the norm (if there is such a thing) this winter: they started already in December, coming to the crescendo in mid-January and leaving practically no flowers for the Almonds in Bloom celebration in Tejeda, which was scheduled, as always, on the first weekend of February.

Second lot is the tajinaste (or taginaste) azul, blue bugloss of Gran Canaria.*

Again, the timing varies significantly. The first time I went to see them was in the beginning of May 2015, they were almost finished, but not quite; the second time, in 2016, it was in the first half of March and they were in bloom. Last year, we went in on a scheduled hike with Arawak in April and saw only two plants already in bloom, others still firmly in bud. This year, we went on the 14 March and found the whole Barranco de la Pasadera in bloom — and not just tajinaste plants. So. If you want to go, you might want to start checking social networks in the first half of March. Somebody from Gran Canaria is bound to publish some pics as soon as the first flowers appear.

There is very little to write really — just enjoy the pics :)

Spring equinox sunrise at the necropolis of Arteara

Somebody switched on an enormous spotlight behind Amurga massif.

On one of our very first visits to Gran Canaria we booked a stay in a village called Fataga. The reasoning was that the holiday house looked really nice and that it was “only” 45 km from the airport. We were thinking in terms of Fuerteventura or possible even East Anglia, where 45 km on the flat is no distance at all. What can I say. We were wrong. Between the airport and Fataga there is an enormous Amurga massif. You can either go through a steep and narrow pass called Degollada de las Yeguas or go a longer and somewhat less steep route through San Bartolome de Tirajana. The second option is easier, but you need to know that beforehand. We didn’t. The most difficult bit is going up to the pass from Fataga to airport (opposite direction being downwards and therefore easier). When I tried to do it the first time, I got stuck on the steepest curve. I kept stalling the motor and try though I did, couldn’t advance even an inch. If anything, I was going backwards with each stalling. A small queue of cars started to form behind me immediately, and eventually a giant tourist bus joined them. A guide from the bus, very nice and polite German guy, run up to us and asked what was going on. When he found out that nothing was wrong with the car itself, he suggested to drive us to the pass, and did. I was enormously grateful to him, still am.

That all happened in daytime (hence the queue and the help). We, however, were supposed to drive to the airport in the small hours, in the darkness, on the empty road. So. I chickened and we changed the booking for the last night to a guesthouse in Ingenio. I did have to drive the same road one more time of course, but not at night and I was mentally prepared to what was coming and managed ok this time.

Why am I telling you all that, all these years later?

Winter Solstice Sunrise on Mesa de Acusa

I liked this stage of the sunrise the most — the cone of shadow under Roque Bentayga was spectacular

An excursion to greet the first rays of the sun on the day of winter solstice is organized by the Cabildo of Gran Canaria every year. Well, this year there were two, on two consecutive days, coz, let’s face it, the difference in the position of the sun and timing is non-perceivable and we are no druids anyway.
We already tried to attend one of those three years ago. The bus picked us up later than it was promised, the driver took a long way to Acusa plus he seemed to be afraid of the dark or something. All these combined, we arrived to the Mesa de Acusa, a plateau in the upper part of the Acusa village, when the sun had already risen, to the general embarrassment of all.
This time was different. We started on time; the bus was small, so it could take a faster route via the smaller roads, and the driver was excellent. We arrived well before the sunrise and had a lot of time to freeze our bits off and to listen to a very good explanation from the Cabildo guide .
Of course, to observe the beautiful sunrise over the rock formations Roque Bentayga and iconic Roque Nublo you don’t need to be there on the day of solstice, but on that day and around it it’s well known where the Roques project their shadows (see map below). Plus, of course, I like a bit of ritual now and then.
Not overmuch, though.

Lensbaby, stars, fishes and hearts

Christmas tree decoration in the Barranco Guiniguada, between Triana and Vegueta

I want to have a break from all things hiking and show some of the experiments with Lensbaby. I took it out of its little bag where it was left undisturbed for a looong time because I thought I should sell off the stuff I never use.

My Lensbaby is a first primitive Composer, fully manual, move-it-as-you-like, no-one-knows-what-s-gonna-come-out type. I must say the focusing is really tricky, especially in the poor light.