Some places just make sense. You arrive, and everything comes together; the sounds, the smells, the people, even the colours of the landscape and the shapes of the hills. Gran Canaria was one of those places for me. I fell in love with a small, warm and friendly island, reminding me of where I am happiest: close to the sea, with sand between my toes.
My trip started at 3am to catch my flight from Stansted, and when I touched down in Las Palmas my good friend Andrea’s father was waiting for me at the airport. He quickly walked me into a supermarket and showed me which local delicacies I shouldn’t leave without when I left, after which we headed off to try some ourselves. In a small bar by the ocean he told me about his family and life on the island, and I learned plenty of new things about my friend I did not know before. My brain struggled with the Spanish after a period of speaking very little, but I quickly settled back into the rhythm of it. We drove along to a couple of viewpoints where I was told about the history of the city, which neighbourhoods would be good to explore, before eventually being dropped at my hostel, and home, for the next few days.
My new home was La Ventana Azul, a surf hostel right on Playa de Las Canteras. From the rooftop terrace you can see the sea, and smell it on the breeze (someone later told me it’s not the sea you smell, but land. However, some quick searching leads me to believe it’s actually the smell of bacteria releasing sulphur). I was introduced to a few new and friendly faces, but I wanted to spend a bit of time on my own and headed for Vegueta, the old part of town. It would soon be one of my favourite hangouts, filled with tiny bars and coffee shops, artisan ice cream parlours, amazing architecture, and endless cobblestone streets to get lost in. I strolled for a couple of hours, enjoying the atmosphere, before heading back for a home-cooked meal at the hostel. New friends were made and by the time I went to bed I was well and truly shattered.
The next morning I woke up bright and early, ready with snorkelling gear to go find some new sea life. As soon as I put my head down I was greeted by the endemic canary damsel. It was amazing to be back in the water after nearly two years without snorkelling (two years?! How did I survive?!) and I pledged to myself that every holiday should involve snorkelling gear from now on. The rest of the day was spent in a blur of sand, sea and sun, and copious amounts of food. In the evening we went to a local bar with the best tapas, from the local papas arrugadas to chorizo set on fire.
But there is more to Gran Canaria than just Las Palmas, so the next morning four of us set off in a hire car to explore more of the island. First stop: Maspalomas. My newfound group of friends foolishly let me navigate, so it may have taken us a bit longer to get there, but we got there in the end. Maspalomas is famous for its sand dunes, and we set off on foot on what must’ve been the hottest sand to ever touch my feet. Soon, I could appreciate how people lose their minds getting lost in the Sahara, but we enjoyed the amazing scenery and set off across the dunes to Playa Ingles. We baked in the sun for a while, before continuing our trip to Finca La Laja. A haven for home-grown produce, we were shown around by the most rehearsed and least likeable guide I’ve met in a long time, before being allowed to sample local wine, coffee, cheese and bread and chorizo. We enjoyed our mini-feast before heading back to Las Palmas, just in time for me to go see Andrea’s parents. They took me to another brilliant little tapas place where I was introduced to the most sugary and pink drink ever: Clipper. Fizzy strawberry juice, it has so much sugar it can rival any amount of caffeine in raising energy levels.
The next day was Valentine’s. I had a ferry ticket to get across to Tenerife, and several hostels booked. The plan was to go hiking, visit Mt Teide, and get to know Tenerife’s culture. But as I woke up to yet another day of glorious sunshine and with the sea in the background, I was suddenly not so sure. I was enjoying beach life, and the people in the hostel were friendly. The idea of hiking seemed a lot less appealing than celebrating carnival, due to start the next day. I couldn’t decide, so when a room mate suggested flipping a coin, that’s exactly what I did. Heads for Gran Canaria, tails for Tenerife. The coin landed heads up, so I extended my stay at reception and cancelled the rest of my reservations. I changed my ferry to Sunday afternoon, so I’d be on time for my Monday morning flight from Tenerife. The sudden freedom of realising I didn’t have to do cultural things, I didn’t have to go hiking, meant I could really, finally let go and relax.
That night we headed back to Vegueta for tapas night. Every week all the restaurants open their doors and sell cheap, delicious tapas you can grab to go and eat in the streets. There were people everywhere milling about with food, drinks and music, and the atmosphere was phenomenal. We met with other backpackers and locals alike, ate, and slowly got drunk as the evening progressed. Later we tried to find a club to go to, but when the police came to tell us to stop loitering in the streets, we all started back to our r3spective hostels. Ours was only about an hours walk away, so we set off in a generally northern direction, passing through parks and quiet streets, through the red-light district that has blue lights, all whilst playing Queen and other classics. I rolled into bed at about 5 in the morning, satisfied and most certainly a bit tipsy still.
I woke up to a text from Andreas mum telling me she was in the area, so I took a cold shower to try and shake the suddenly quite overpowering hangover and met her and her sisters for a coffee. They were full of more advice on what to do on the island, and I gratefully filled my veins with caffeine. I spent the rest of the day eating pastries and drinking coffee with new friends, enjoying the sun and the beach (even though it had actually rained in the morning) and getting ready for the evening’s barbecue. After the barbecue we all got ready for carnival, heading to Vegueta once again for a programme of music by a guy called Tonny Tun Tun. As we were all in relaxed island mode, we managed to get there just as he played the last verse of his last song. We had a quick dance in the square and moved on to look for somewhere else to dance, as we ran into a group of about eight men in drag outside a bar, singing satirical songs about being a mother. They were not only very talented, but also wrote super relatable lyrics about teenagers not texting back their mums and always expecting here to do everything…. sorry mum. We eventually made it to a bar where a litre (a litre!) of beer was €3 and a mojito only €2, before moving to a rock club where we danced to all the classics. Another evening ended somewhat tipsily at the beach, with the prospect of going home looming ever closer.
My last full day on the island started late. The plan was to hire a car for another day, but by the time everyone had dragged their hungover bodies out of bed the rental places were all shut. So we headed for the bus station and took a local bus towards Agaete, a gorgeous coastal town with natural pools and a great vibe. The bus journey was not ideal for pre-existing nausea, but we made it there in one piece and fought off the hangovers with more tapas. As we made our way to the natural pools I was struck by the beauty of the island. The coastline looked Jurassic, jarring edges of mountain dropping into the Atlantic, covered in fog. It wasn’t hard to imagine what the island must’ve looked like to the first explorers who set foot here. At the pools the local council was throwing a party in protest against more docks in the harbour, and salsa and bachata played loudly amongst the swimmers and day drinkers. We grabbed some cool beers and whiled away the time trying to catch the little gobies in the water and swaying along to the beat. Eventually it was time to head home and still exhausted and hungover from the previous nights, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next morning I could no longer put off the inevitable: it was time to head to Tenerife. I woke up early to try and see the Sunday market, but there wasn’t a lot happening and I realised the central market was closed on Sundays. So I packed my bags and headed towards the harbour, where I lounged myself on the deck of the ferry until it was time to leave. For some bizarre reason, passengers weren’t allowed on deck whilst at sea, so I was ushered inside and spent the journey looking for dolphins in vain. Once in Tenerife, I moved straight onto the bus station to catch a bus to take me south towards El Médano where my hostel for the night was. Tenerife was immediately larger than Gran Canaria, in every aspect. The mountains were higher, the cities bigger, the tourist areas more touristy still. It didn’t appeal in the same small-town charm that Gran Canaria had done. Two hours later I arrived at my hostel, no thanks to the second bus that never showed and forced me to take an expensive taxi. The hostel was located in a tiny village close to the airport. Soon after I arrived I headed for the beach to watch my final sunset with a few people. We had more tapas and enjoyed the black sand beach. Back at the hostel I made a beeline for my room as the entire place was shrouded in a cloud of marijuana smoke. As much as I wished this would deter the mozzies for the night, it did not, and I was bitten relentlessly.
And so my journey came to a somewhat anti-climactic end. As much as I had loved Gran Canaria, the glimpse I had had of Tenerife had been disappointing. The next day I grabbed the bus towards the airport and ate my last tapas at the airport, ready to go back to the cold. As I landed, the sun was shining and I drove home in a state of confusion toward the hot weather in the UK. This trip was a reminder to do what you want to do, and not what you’re expected to do, and of how much I love living near the sea. I’ll be back to this little slice of paradise, ready to do all the things I didn’t have time to do this time; paragliding, horseback riding, and exploring the islands montane centre. Anybody want to join?
Faye Vogely 