From Diary 1.
15/11.
The day starts with public transport, and a familiar route: First to Puerto
del Rosario and then with another bus to the airport, and here; I am a month
late for the car. It costs me ten minutes and €1000.
I drive through a beautiful and reasonably red landscape to La Oliva,
which has an old town with its Friday market .
It is mainly with food and crafts. I enjoy a latte and a crème
comb before I see the old town –
which is more of a few scattered farms.
Then I follow the FV-211 from Tefia to Los Molinos, and oddly enough, I pass
Molino de Tefia. The road itself is not exciting, but it leads to Parque
Rural Berancuria. Vultures breed here, just not now. A river has eaten
its way deep
into the landscape, and the bottom of the gorge is covered in a lush green
carpet, which I suspect are mainly made up by the usual succulents. I see ducks and waders by the water, and lizards, a goat and some
chipmunks on the surrounding rocks. I follow the gorge almost to the sea,
but turn around, after the car.
I end up at Los Molinos, which is neither a town nor a mill. It is the mouth
of the river, where there is a single restaurant, a few small fishing
huts/summer houses and a lot of musk ducks. I grab some local potatoes
before exploring
 the area. Bad plan, as the sun is suddenly replaced by
torrential rain. Brown rivers pour down the mountainside, and the
restaurant's guests huddle together in the reception area, as the half-roof,
wind and rain do not cooperate - or does, to soak us. I run out to the car, and use its
accumulated solar heat and not least its shelter, for a nap - after I have
moved it up from the bottom of the gorge. However, I hope that a tidal wave
does not come down through the valley.
The rain stops and clears up, and I carefully walk halfway up one side of
the gorge.
Some big waves come onto the narrow pebble beach, and the surrounding rocks
are barren. It seems that most of the greenery in the canyon is a succulent
and algae.
The otherwise barren landscape has puddles, and there are countless streams
running down many mountain sides. It seems that it wasn't just the coast
that got rain.
I look inland, and then up Mount Tindaya (Mantila),
 which is a volcano about
700 meters high, with some "carvings". I stop at 608 meters, where the fog
starts. It is windy and cold, and I can't figure out, what the carvings are
(they are just small scratches in the rock face, one is a sailing ship). But
the view is fantastic down through the canyons on both sides, and out to the
sea, six kilometres away. Some of the mountain sides are covered with
terraces, but here it is mostly just shallow.
A little sun comes out, and the clouds disappear; the fantastic views become
adventurous. I follow the edge of the mountain, all the way up to
 the top.
It's real windy, but then the clouds disappear completely, and you can see most
of the island. I trot down and set the GPS to the coast. I find a dried-up
stream that leads through a completely dead landscape, out to the sea.
There's really nothing to botanize here.
I park close to HyperDino, shop and walk home past a stingy but greedy ATM.
It will only pay out €300, but it costs me 60 kroner – plus the bad exchange
rate.
Day's
highlights.
16/11.
 The GPS knows a ten-kilometre-long,
but small, dirt road up to Calderón Hondo Vulcano, and since I was forced to
take out full insurance on the car, there is nothing holding me back. I pass a large
hole in the mountainside that resembles a crater, but is probably a lava
gravel mine. The coal-like lava gravel is used in the fields.
This entire barren area has a lot of walls, but almost no plants. Further
off the dirt road I find the Honda volcano. The GPS's estimate of 14
 hours of
driving didn't quite hold up. I park and trudge the four kilometres up to
the enormous crater. The volcano didn't look big from the outside, but the
crater continues far below the surrounding plain.
From here, I take the shortest dirt road to Lajares, which is a quiet tourist
town, with a Wednesday market. There aren't many stalls here, but all of
them have really beautiful, local handicrafts.
Then I make a big loop in the very scattered town, where there isn't much
old left. I end
 up on the roof of a fashionable bakery, with a goat cheese
bun, a caramel brownie and a latte. That give me a feeling of, the tour was
not wasted.
Where the surroundings are so barren, the town is reasonably green, there is
even an herb garden and large trees and palm trees.
Recognizing that the gravel roads in the area do not lead to great botanical
experiences, I take the paved detour to the
 coast. I stop at the remains of
a large house. There are not many plants, but I find everything from the
pubs of extinct wasps to shells, pot shards and old coins to heavy rifle
ammunition. I make a loop through El Rouge, which is now a cosy holiday
town, with a bit of village charm.
Then I reach the coast and El Cotillo. It is another cosy former fishing village,
which now accommodates a number of tourists. But it has not lost its charm,
and some
 of it reminds me of Mykonos. Here is a sandy beach, rocky coast,
beach, a small rocky harbour, palm trees, cannon towers and a lot of blue
sea.
Along the coast, there is a mix of new and old houses. The shops are also
mixed, some for everyday life and some for holidays.
I end
up at the large beach, and return to the restaurants for a wrap and
latte, with a view of the harbour. The wind is perfect into the bay for kite
and windsurfers.
 I round the northern beach before I head off.
A little further up north I find Molino de el Rouqe, which is an old but
intact windmill. The area it stands on seems fertile and it is fenced. Here
are various large Opuntias, Euphorbias, palms, Yuccas and some very tall
grass.
I feel, I am in good time, and find an oasis. It turns out, not surprisingly,
to be a holiday town. But their enormous brass statue is worth the trip,
although I fail to figure what is is supposed to be?
Close by is a beach at Majanicho, reminiscent of the North Sea on a perfect
summer day.
I take a walk in the dunes and the water's edge. Here is the
usual mix of golden sand, white popcorn and black lava rocks. A little
inland, I find an area with two species of green succulents. I drive home,
full of experiences.
Day's
highlights.
 17/11.
I have a long way to drive, and a lot to see, so I start early, in the
deep darkness. It start to lightens, as I reach Poblado de la Atalayto,
which is a pre-Spanish ruins. I manage to walk around it, before the sun
rises over the ridge at half past seven.
There are over 100 small igloo-shaped huts here, most of them less than two
meters in diameter on the inside. There are several different types of
construction, but everything is stacked up in the local lava stones, without
the use of mortar. I walk around again, after the sun illuminates the almost
black wicks.
The village is located on a now dried-up stream, but one area is almost a
forest of invasive Sodom apples; Calotropis procera, which here are up to
five meters tall. I try to take a dirt road to the coast, but it is blocked
by the local goat farmer. But his goats are on both sides.
I
have to go back to the FV-420 to reach the sea at Pozo Negro. It is a
small fishing village, where it surprisingly drizzles for a short while.
There are no cafes, no rental cars, but a perfect beach and truly idyllic.
The I make a trip through the island to get further south. There are some irrigated
fields and palm plantations. The trip along the FV-511 to Faro de la Entallada, which is a lighthouse, is
great. And not least the view from
it: Far inland and about 200 meters down to the sea. I walk around the area
a bit, waiting for holes in the clouds. The lighthouse itself is a beautiful
building, in hewn red lava stone and white-painted mortar between black lava
stones.
I am ready for my second breakfast, and find Gran Tarajal. It is a beautiful
port that continues into a huge beach. There are some large murals, many
restaurants and
 almost no people, but it is Sunday. I find an open bakery
with a cafe at 12 o'clock. A latte and a piece of delicious cake cost €3.50
– 26kr, maybe lucky it's 4-5 times more expensive back home? Then I see the harbour, where half are small fishing boats, the rest
fibreglass pleasure
boats. I zigzag back through the back alleys, and round the beach again.
Apart from seeds of a Mexican Beaucarnea recurvata plant, I don't find anything exciting.
A
 little optimistically, I drive to Fuerteventura Jardin Botanical; the
zoo/botanical garden. They have a large Sunday market, with beautiful handicrafts, homemade jam, vegetables, soap, photographs, beeswax candles
and the like. I just have time to see it, before they start packing up. And I
have a long conversation with a photographer from Iran, who was educated in
Sweden, and has lived here for 25 years. I don't want to see the ZOO, nor
the botanical garden, when I have to pay €40! An employee tells me that it's
just plants between the cages. And I have a good feeling, that I have seen
all the species in the beautiful facilities, in the very large entrance
area.
I follow
the coast even further south to La Lajita; a small fishing village
with a black magnetic beach and very few visitors. I get a latte at the
local, and get back after the magnet from the GPS: I just need to get a small bottle
of magnetic sand, back home.
I make a short pit stop in a coastal tourist town, on my way up north on the
FV-2.
 Then I continue along the coast, and come to the Parque Nasional
Natural de Corralejo. It is an enormous coastal area with large sand dunes
that continue all the way to the town. I quickly reach the waste area, where there are only
animal tracks, and it is truly beautiful. Unfortunately, the sun is not
there, and the photographs are missing a lot. That does not stop me from
walking for an hour, in a large circle through the area. I am home at dusk.
Day's
highlights.
Then I continue in Diary 3. |