OF WATERS AND WITCHES

On an island with an arid, desert-like South, like Gran Canaria, access to water is of utmost importance. In the old days, it was an issue of life and death. People did not use to live along the southern slopes, since rain was rare and stochastic and there was a dearth of springs. First higher up in the arroyos (canyons created through erosion of the huge southern vulcanic crater rim) could people survive, where springs created tiny oases of greenery in the middle of arid wastes. Still, there were periods of extended drought in pre-modern times, often lasting for a decade or more, forcing also those people to leave and emigrate, mostly towards Latin America, and coming back first when living conditions again proved more favorable.

All this changed when Franco, who used to be governor of the Canaries, commanded the systematic construction of reservoirs in the interior, together with tunnels and open conduits to lead the water south. To this day one can observe, on any slope close to Maspalomas, the open irrigation ditches that led water to huge tomato plantations and were still in function until about fourty years ago, when the tourist trade took over. The name of Maspalomas is indirectly related to this. The immense tomato cultivations gave rise to a lot of waste which was loved by pigeons. The workers in the plantations, being plagued by these insistent birds, would exclaim "Yet more pigeons!" (in Spanish "Mas palomas!").

The open ditches are left to decay nowadays and agriculture has been intensified instead in the southern arroyos and highlands. Water to the fields is nowadays led through huge black closed tubes that snake along the slopes, avoiding the large evaporation losses of the former open conduits.

There are as much as some 60 reservoirs on the island, providing a sustainable water supply for agriculture even over a prolonged period of drought. Filled to the brim with the precious fluid, they could keep the southern fields going for almost ten years of sparse raining before needing replenishment. This is precisely what is needed, since plentiful rain comes only between long periods of dearth.

But what about the tourist industry with its many thousands of visitors? Does it not use up all the water in the reservoirs in gigantic slurps, leaving only pittance to the farmers? Actually, all residential use of water on the coast is being supplied by huge de-salting plants that convert seawater to freshwater. This water is not potable. Drinking water comes instead in plastic bottles and consists of water from wells in the North. Up there, there is always ample supply of water, due to the humidity carried to it by the trade winds and unleashed over its slopes. This leaves the reservoirs to be used by the southern farmers and highland communities. All in all, the water supply system appears pretty much sustainable.

Due to the heavy rain earlier this year, and also last year, the reservoirs are completely full; and nature,  on the southern coast and highlands, is as green as never before. Does it surprise you that I am longing for excursions into this region of bounty? Yesterday, I partook in a nice Lake Hiking Tour, organised by Free Motion, to get a closer look at the major reservoirs. The guide was an experienced gentleman of relatively mature age, commonly called "Der olle Dieter". He proved to be a most agreeable and experienced fellow, having lived on the island for more than twenty years and knowing pretty much everything there is to know about the history and nature of this enchanted place.

The hike started at Embalse (Reservoir) de la Soria, the large lake on the lower southern slopes. As already said, it was filled to the brim. Watching its full length from the heights was pure pleasure. Just have a look at the title picture of this post! After having savored this watery vista, the real hike started and went ever upwards, along a broad and easily treaded farming road that reached onwards in broad swiping serpentines. Initially we passed through a light pine forests, interrupted by deep gorges and stony slopes created by the recent, or earlier, heavy downpours.

Eventually we gained more open heights, with broad vistas over the surrounding mountains. As a pleasant interruption, Dieter pointed out a rare bird that I did not hesitate to document for your benefit. Unfortunately I keep forgetting its name, so I will have to fill it in here later after having relearned its name from Dieter. Or maybe Dieter could help me out by putting it into a comment to this blog.

One of the highlights of the hike came at picnic time. Don't misunderstand me now, I don't mean the food, although we were quite hungry by then. It was the place we chose for our resting! It was a small round glade, green with grass, and known only to local people and of course Dieter; peacefully it stretched out, surrounded by reddish volcanic boulders, just waiting to be enjoyed by us during our resting period. Along one side of it, an intriguing configuration of stones could be admired, not unlike the labyrinths adorning the floor of old Gothic churches and small parks preserved from yore.

Of course we were eager to learn its raison d'être. It proved an interesting story, involving women of a certain age, engaged in healthy meditation aided by this quasi-heathen configuration of stones. But why should I tell you the details, since we have Dieter himself ready to do it for you readers. Clicking on the video below will bring him alive for us:

Reinvigorated by food and tales, on we went on our hike, towards the second lake on our journey, the Embalse de la Cueva de las Ninyas. Just before arriving at this jewel of a lake, we passed by a well known goat farm, located rather conveniently up on the heights, where food for the hardy animals can be found in all seasons, wet or dry. This year the goats do not have to stray afar for food, in this mountain world of lush greenery. Happy be those that will be buying goat cheese from this farm a year or two from now; this will be a rare delicacy, once it has fully ripened.

But on to Las Ninyas!

Our hike led us along the full length of this lake. It has a very nice picnic and camping area, which we made a quick detour down to the shore to investigate; the reward was glittering waves on green shores. At a spot almost at the farther other end of the lake it suddenly occurred to me that I had stood there before and taken a picture. This was two years ago, when the reservoir had almost dried up (it did so the year after). It may interest you to have a look at the situation "before and after". It really lets you appreciate the rain from the last few weeks, doesn't it! What a difference a bit of rain makes.

Whilst we contemplate this difference, let me finish this rather lengthy blog with a picture you may not see again soon. It is a 180 degrees' panorama of Lake Ninyas. Not the best of photographs, by all means, but it shows the whole lake at once and I am quite proud of having gotten my act together on this one.

I have the feeling that you would like to see the full set of pictures from this pleasant hike. So, here you have the full gallery, with music and all, yours for clicking with your mouse:

WATCHING THE ALMOND TREES BLOOM

Yesterday was the first of, I hope many, days spent hiking in Gran Canaria’s interior. I had originally booked for a trip to the top of Roque Nublo, an intriguing promontory that was sacred to the indigenous people of the island (the “Guanches”). However, the tour was changed, due to severe weather conditions. Instead, the hike was redirected towards visiting some charming places where almond trees are blooming.  This sounds easy going, but you should realize that almond trees are growing only between 800 and 1200 meters’ altitude, so hiking to see them is not exactly like walking on the beach.

You would be wrong in believing that these trees grow in large plantations, easily reached, for grooming and harvesting purposes, by the peasants owning them. In fact they are clinging on to hazardous slopes, in volcanic terrain that is rather cumbersome to penetrate. Neither are the flowers of these trees opulent like, for instance, the cherry flowers adorning Washington DC (described in my blog post “Washington in Bloom"). That notwithstanding, the trees are a pleasure to behold at this time of the year, being full of delicate flowers with fragrant and aromatic smells.

It may interest you to hear that almond flowers come in two distinct colours, white and pink. Trees with white flowers bear almonds sweet to the taste, whereas those with pink flowers carry a bitter variant, full of poisonous cyanide. The only way to know which type of almonds you are harvesting is to cataloguing each tree according to its flowers and keeping book of all of them until it is time to get the mature fruits off the trees. Come to think of it, I may have confused the colours. Better check with your friendly peasant when helping him harvest the trees, so you don’t collect the wrong variant!

The trip was organised by Happy Hiking, a hiking company where José Vanderveken, a long time friend, is a main responsible. With José I have criss-crossed the island numerous times already. Despite his exotic pre-name, he is a cordial Belgian, much appreciated by his many thousand customers. This time we were too many hikers for one guide so he split up the group in two. The group in which I partook was led by another old friend, Manfred. He happens to be a countryman of mine; even better than that, he was born in the very same Duchy that I call my native land, venerable Styria.

As an aside, did you know that the very first novel having a vampire as main character had its tale located in Styria, more precisely in the two castles of Riegersburg and Gleichenberg, close to my birth place. Moreover, the vampire in question was a woman, not a dreary old count from Transsylvania. The book is called “Carmilla” and I can recommend it to aficionados of vampire novels.

I see that I am starting to ramble into serendipity, a question of old age no doubt. Back to the main thread!

Our hiking tour started in light drizzle and rather cool air. However, we treaded mainly uphill and the exercise soon warmed us up. We started in the mountain village of Ayacata and headed upwards, more or less straight on, towards the foot of Roque Nublo. Our reward came with the several stops we made and the views this allowed us to take in. One place was my favourite; it provided a broad view of the valley of Ayacata, with almond trees spread out thinly around the village.

 

By then the rain had stopped and the sun started to lift our spirits. Upon arriving at the foot of Roque Nublo, no cloud was in sight anymore and we got a nice view of this red coloured finger the island is giving the Almighty. More about this, I hope, in a future blog, if weather conditions become more stable and enable a hike all the way up to the top without risk.

Instead, we retraced our steps and continued the hike in the region around Lake Chira, away from the civilised valley of Ayacata with its almond trees and instead losing ourselves in the friendly pine forests adorning most hills and slopes in the upper part of the island. As explained to us by Manfred, most of the pine trees have been planted during the past 50 years, in order to reforest an otherwise barren interior, suffering from the effects of ruthless logging during the early Spanish days.

Interestingly, the indigenous Canarian pines get their water supply exclusively from the air. Trade winds supply the upper regions continuously with wet low hanging clouds. The pines, with their long sharp needles, are “milking “ the clouds and get all their moisture from them. The surplus is running to the ground and benefitting other vegetation growing around the trees. Needless to say, the pine forests are essential for providing a stable water supply also for the agriculture on the island.

Towards the end of our tour, when the bus was bringing us back to civilisation, we made a last stop at one of the famous overlooks, from which one can admire the “Eagle Pass”, the utmost challenge for any serious bicycle user. Here came for me the glorious finish of our trip. The rocky cliffs around Eagle Pass shone in  a serious green, lushly covered with vegetation after the heavy rains as they were. I am glad that I came to Gran Canaria to witness this rare splendour. Have a look at the picture below. Isn’t the green almost outerwordly?

To get to grips with the scale of those "hills", double click on the picture to get it larger and try to locate the village of Fataga on its upper right, just behind the last rise and below the blue range on the horizon. Still, don’t let yourselves be fooled thinking that these are the mountains of Gran Canaria. These are merely the FOOTHILLS, standing like sentinels guarding the Caldera, along the rim of which are the main tops, ranging up to 2000 meters. With a bit of luck, you will be able to join me in climbing the second largest of those peaks coming Saturday. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that it does not rain that day and that the trade winds will blow off all clouds from the island when I will be standing on top of Pico Campanario and taking pictures for your benefit.  

WALKING THE BEACH

This post is about feet and legs. But don’t despair, dear logophiles, these body parts can be both intriguing, interesting and great fun to read about.

Let’s start with the intriguing part. Way back in 2003, I had an accident whilst hiking in Teneriffa (another one of those nice Canary Islands), with an important ligament in my right foot having been half torn. As a consequence, I could no longer raise that foot, which made walking somewhat difficult. I almost got persuaded to have an operation, but when the foremost foot surgeon in Belgium (Mr. de Halleux) explained to me what he intended to do, I realized that this was not for me. I thought that, instead, maybe the muscles could be re-educated to do the work that the torn ligament was not able to carry out any longer. 

Portal to the Beach

In that context I recalled the beach of Playa del Inglès. When I was on Gran Canaria for the first time, I walked along that beach one day, not realizing its wonders, since my mind was full of melancholy. I did not think much of the hike then and neither did I repeat the exercise during that stay. But with my foot aching and my mind busy with envisaging reasonable training schedules, it suddenly occurred to me that this could be THE PLACE for my exercises. “Why not give it a try and walk this beach back and fro barefoot for a week or two and see what this does to my foot” I was thinking and I rushed to buy tickets for a trip back to Gran Canaria for the second time after a ten years’ hiatus.


Seen in the light of possible reconvalescence the beach of Playa del Inglès is indeed a remarkable place. A stretch of firm sand, as made for walking, about five kilometres long; to your left (when starting to walk in Playa del Inglès) the Atlantic seemingly stretching unhindered for ever, but in fact bounded by the Sahara, which is just fifty kilometres away; to your right ridge after ridge of sand dunes resting in laid back leisure, burnished by the ocean breeze. As soon as I took of my shoes, on the first day of my return, my toes started to tingle and my feet started to walk almost by themselves, firm and wet sand driving them along, and gentle waves cooling them off, so that there never was a risk of tiring or overheating. 


You may be surprised, to hear that two weeks’ pure pleasure in hiking that beach for an hour every day restored the functionality of my ailing foot. It is as if the ligament never had been torn. A miracle if there ever was one! I trust you understand that I am now a true believer in WALKING THE BEACH. Since this remarkable recovery, I have been revisiting the blessed place at least once a year and I have never been disappointed with its remarkable healing properties. 

To count just a few of my ailments that this doctor has cured: Severe back aches, foot sores, bad winter cough and even a more or less chronic bronchitis I acquired in Brussels, the city of the bad winter air. How come that walking the beach is curing even lung afflictions? Well, good folks, this is due to the purity and saltiness of the ocean air that you cannot avoid breathing whilst doing some healthy exercises on the beach. With salty water on your toes and salty air in your lungs your health is getting restored almost without efforts; a leisurely stroll along the beach will do. 

Now comes the interesting part: I am not the only one having discovered the beneficial effects of strolling along. If you plan to follow my example and rush off to Gran Canaria, you better plan to get up early in the morning for your daily routine. I usually start the walk around 9 pm and have the beach more or less to myself. An hour later and I would have to share it with thousands and yet more thousands of fellow walkers. This is no surprise, considering the effectiveness and speediness of the cure. What surprises me is that at least half of the walkers have SHOES ON! This is as going to the doctor, but refusing to take medicine he has prescribed!

To finish this post in a half-joking vein, here is another piece of advice for your planning of the trip to Gran Canaria. Have your doctor or spouse measure your legs before you leave home. I have done so and found that my left leg is slightly larger than the right. There you have the ultimate reason for me staying in Playa del Inglès instead of in the more fashionable Playa Meloneras (which is located on the other end of the beach). When starting my walk from my hotel, I am going westward, with the ocean to my left. I think you get it now. I am all for pleasure in walking and every little help is appreciated.


Postscript: Many readers have contacted me about this posting. Given this general interest, I have prepared a gallery of my better pictures from this marvelous beach of Maspalomas and invite you to look at it at the video below.  [For reasons that escape me, some readers are unable to open it. For them, please click the word Video]

THERE'S A SMALL HOTEL ...

Its been a rainy day today so I have had plenty of time to prepare this new post. Bad weather doesn't mean no pictures however, since I have an inventory of photos from other trips to sample for your benefit.

Today's post is about a necessary, but often disappointing, aspect of travelling abroad, namely the choice of the right place to stay. As I already mentioned, I am spending my two weeks here in Playa del Inglès, one of those tourist places Spain has managed to stamp out of barren and unpopulated ground all over its coasts. The coastal region here in the South of Gran Canaria was to start with a barren desert-like slope, with only brushes and cactus to show for it. It took Franco to organise a system of man made lakes in the mountains together with tunnels and trenches, which rendered the desert arable. As result, huge tomato plantations were created, adorning the flats where hotels now abound. 

So there was no cultural background or inheritance to guide the heaping of cement upon cement, in the sixties, to shape a tourist town where tomatoes used to grow, a town like many other tourist traps in Spain. Fortunately, nature blessed Playa del Inglès with a treasure that the Spanish authorities had the good sense to preserve: a kilometer wide stretch of wide and flat beach, flanked by a charming hillside of desert dunes, full of sand blown over from the Sahara, which is just some tens of kilometers away towards the East. The dunes were declared a protected nature area. This has the pleasant consequence that you can walk on the beach, for about 5 kilometers, seeing only dunes and forgetting that you are surrounded by a forest in cement, built to house yourself as well as the other thousands of tourist coming to this place every week. 

More about the beach in a future post. This chapter is about housing. I am sure you start to understand that it is rather important to find a place here that lets you forget that you are staying smack in the middle of a tourist trap and that, at the same time, lies so close to the beach so that you don't waste a lot of time before pursuing your hiking pleasure on this unspoilt place. 

I am happy to tell you that I found just that. A hotel that lets you believe that you are staying in a palm forest, albeit being placed in the middle of all the concrete ruckus. All the rooms face a grove of mature palm trees, which are surrounding some nice facilities, such as, a pool and pool bar and some bungalows for families with children. Only when you step out of your room on your way to the elevator are you forced to take a look at the town. By a stroke of genius, the architect let the hotel show only its backside to the town, the front with all the rooms and balconies are facing in the other direction, ultimately looking at the beach, if you care to lift your eyes above the palm crowns. 

This hotel, by the name of Riu Palmeras, has been my trusted abode during essentially all my stays here in Playa del Inglès and I can but recommend it to others of a travel inclination similar to mine. If you would like to hear and see more about this agreeable place, why not have a look at a small video I prepared for this purpose. You can find it on Youtube if you click on the link below:

PROLOGUE

Why am i going to Gran Canaria and why am I writing a blog about it?

The island suits me as well as I seem to suit the island. Thinking about it brings alive a lot of memories, both sad and happy, connected with the many trips I have made to this sunny place.

I visited Gran Canaria for the first time way back in January 1993. The intention was to relax after a craving professional year, spent in the Swedish Central Bank during the Banking Crisis, and regain my spirits after the sadly passing away of my former wife Alice. Unsurprisingly the visit turned out to be a rather melancholic one, passed in a weary mood and contemplations of happier times gone.

To get away from this, I partook in a bus trip across the island to get to know its interior. To my great surprise, the vehicle lifted us from the long sandy beaches way up into lofty heights, so contrasty to the desert like coast, populated as they were with dense green pine forests, protruding cliffs in burning red, blue lakes like pearls on a string and sparkling meadows interspersing it all. I did not realize then that I had been very lucky, witnessing the island after a prolonged period of rain, which had polished nature to utmost splendor. Never again have I seen the interior so beautiful as on that occasion, and the experience helped a lot to lift my depressed moods.

Whilst having lunch in a Parador (Spanish State Hostel) in the middle of the pine forests, I queried the bus driver and hotel personnel about possible hiking paths and tours in the interior. The answer was a total blank. Those were things unheard of by the Spanish operators. I deeply deplored this lack of initiative, had I not longed for polishing off my stay with a couple of days of hiking in this splendid surrounding?

You can understand why I wrote off the island completely after that, since trekking through foreign fields is my favored manner of getting to know the abroad. But ten years later, for one reason or another, I again made a trip to this Southern treasure, in January 2003. The town I stayed in, Playa del Inglès, had remained essentially unchanged, nothing new there. But there was a big change in organizing tours. Although Spanish operators still managed their bus tours as always, a new breed of entrepreneurs had entered the scene: continental youngsters, from Austria, Belgium, Germany and even Sweden had started touring groups that catered for the natural instinct to experience the island through trekking (and biking).

Since then I have been a regular visitor, travelling to Gran Canaria once or twice a year, and criss-crossing the island on foot and bike, until getting familiar with every nook and cranny of its mountainous interior. After about ten visits, it dawned on me that it was time to switch attention to  other foreign places. Still, the old fascination lingered on.

Just after Christmas this year, I got an e-mail from Sandra Mäser, a trusted friend among the continental operators, telling me that there had been a prolonged period of rain on the island and that the island was greener than ever. Could it be that it would be possible to again experience the interior in all its splendor of yore, when I joined the bus tour many years ago? This was an opportunity too good to miss. I immediately booked a flight and, voilà, am on my way!

This answers the first question. As to the second, since I am expecting to see the island as beautiful as it possibly can appear, it is fitting that I should make an attempt to share my experience with my trusted friends all over the world. Let's hope that my expectations are being met and that we can witness, together, some "expeditions" into the interior with reasonable weather conditions, suitable to capture this enticing nature at its best. Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best!