Goodbye Lanzarote

I found the cheese I wanted in the Hiperdino (the supermarket chain with the smiling dinosaur as a mascot) and quit my room. My flight wasn't until mid-afternoon so I had the whole morning to kill. Where to drive? Teguise again? Ah no, I liked Puerto Calero better. I spent a relaxing hour there sitting in the shade catching the breeze.

I noted that like at Gomera, the fish were plentiful in the waters. A lady came by and tossed breadcrumbs into the water, causing this frenzy. A tour bus turned up at the marina and I took this as a sign that I should make my getaway.

I realised why the rental company was unfussed about the petrol level in the tank. The island is so small that I only managed less than 600 km in 4 days. I parked the car, left the keys and the car park ticket in the boot of the car, as agreed, and proceeded to the check in counter. It was not yet open; we probably had to wait for the arrival of the plane. The airport gets a fair amount of charter traffic as there were 12 departure gates.

The flight left on schedule and by 2015 I was back at the Barcelona residencia. It was too late to get anything from the supermarket due to Monday night hours. I had some Chinese dim sum at a corner eatery that advertised "Chinese tapas". A bit pricey at €6.10 for a har gow, a siu mai and a Taiwanese rice but decent quality. I was too tired to wander Barcelona so I retired for the night after dinner.

Malpaís de la Corona

Despite my worries, there was no parking ticket on the car in the morning, so I was parked in a legal space. I was kept awake till late by a couple in a nearby room yakking away into the early hours.

The Matiz was bright red in colour and very economical. I estimated that it was consuming between 5 and 6 litres per 100 km. This photo was actually taken at the end of the hire, at the airport. But one drawback was that it had small tyres so I couldn't drive on roads where the depressions were too deep or I would scrape the bottom of the car.

I headed north again, but this time up the mountains towards the area named Malpaís de la Corona (Badlands of the Crown). This is inhospitable and sparsely populated terrain as the name suggests. At Haría, the town of the eponymous municipality, nothing was open as it was too early. So I pressed on to Mirador del Rio, which is on an escarpment facing northwest. Near the destination were these windmills. Like Tenerife, Lanzarote is also trying to tap wind energy.

The elevation of about 475m provides views of the Atlantic Ocean.

The mirador used to be a fort from which passing ships could be observed. The rio is not really a river but a channel separating Lanzarote from the island of La Graciosa. The clear skies and brilliant sunshine provided these stunning views.

Second of the panoramic view.

Third of the panoramic view.

Last of the panoramic view.

The lookout was designed by César Manrique in 1974. This is the roof of the spiral staircase leading to the viewing platform.

And this is the interior of the cafe and souvenir shop.

This hazy telephoto shot plainly shows the volcanic origins of La Graciosa. Access to the island, which is part of a national park, is via a ferry from Órzola. I drove down there. There was a ferry ready to depart, but I decided against taking the crossing to explore the island. According to the schedule, the return trip was at 1620. I saw the driver of the tour bus sitting at one of the several restaurants. Nothing for him to do until late afternoon; what a life. I wasn't hungry yet, so I pushed on. Follow me to the next post in the blog.

Arrecife 2 and around Lanzarote

The pocket FM radio didn't work any more. Things were falling apart. Inanimate objects were trying to tell me something. Go home, probably.


I stayed in bed until 0900, but there was still time to kill. I bought some groceries from Hiperdino, and discovered an Internet cafe where I caught up with my email and news for an hour. I noticed a Chinese restaurant offering menu del dia for €7.25 and since I was a bit homesick for Asian food I took that for lunch.


Collecting the car, a Matiz, was straightforward. I paid cash and got the keys. The agency owner was quite trusting; he didn't bother to record my passport details. Of course there was no way I could untraceably take the car off the island, but what if I damaged the car and dumped it at the airport just like that?

Lanzarote isn't a big island, about 60 km north-south and 25 km east-west. Many world cities are larger than the whole island. So I drove leisurely to the resort town of Costa Teguise. There wasn't much there that was authentic, it was just a resort town, but I sauntered inside the Hotel Meliá Salinas to see the beautiful atrium designed by César Manrique. (You will see more of his work in following posts.)

I wandered to the hotel beach for a stroll and took this picture...

and this picture, before moving on.

From Teguise, I headed inland to Castillo de Santa Bárbara, which is almost at the geographical centre of the island and which provides a vantage point for the coast.

There was a museum of Canarian Emmigration there which was said to be informative about the migrations of Canarians to the New World but I couldn't summon enough interest to enter.


To get out of the afternoon heat, I drove to the Deiland Shopping Centre at Playa Honda. I watched James Bond in Die Another Day on a demo TV in a shop for a while. I smiled at the romantic depiction of Cuba in it; cigars, old American cars, etc. At the supermarket I purchased a few bottles of water, and they rattled in the trunk as I tootled along.

In the evening I drove down to Puerto del Carmen. This was the full-blown mass tourism nightmare, signboards and menus in half a dozen languages, ad nauseum. I saw a restaurant called Malaysia, but it seemed to have folded.

However along the coast there were some areas of serenity like this beach plaza.


As expected, Arrecife was an annoyance to drive around, but I finally found a municipal car park which appeared to be free. I hoped I wouldn't find a parking ticket on the car the next morning.

Arrecife 1

Lanzarote is the most northeasterly of the Canary Islands and catches little rain due to the low elevation, which makes the landscape stark but beautiful. It is volcanically active and a large part of the island was covered in volcanic debris in a recent eruption from 1730 to 1736.

It was a bit chilly when the ferry moored. A private taxi offered to take me into town. I thought the fare was a bit pricy at €7 but I didn't have much choice as the port was a couple of km outside town, a bit far to walk with a backpack. I resolved to rent a car to explore the island as bus services were infrequent.

Arrecife was a rather bare capital and port city. With only about 50,000 population, it was a far cry from the bustle of Las Palmas. Even when the skies were overcast there was a luminous quality to the light due to the lack of moisture.

The map in the guide was poor and I got lost in the winding streets of the old city. Eventually I found the hotel I wanted. There weren't many lodgers. I was not even sure that there was hot water in the showers. The best thing about it was that it was relatively cheap at €12 per day. The second best thing was a plump resident cat.

After a nap, I went into the city to look for car rental companies. There were only a few, and rates were around €30 per day. With the cheap accommodation this was within my means, but I wondered where I could park the car at night.The place with the best rates for a small car told me to check again the next day. If I visited Fuerteventura the next day, then I could drive around the island in the remaining 4 days until the flight back.

I discovered an Italian restaurant that served an excellent pasta for lunch. I was to return here a few times in the coming days. They also sold takeaway gelato. In their window was this tongue-in-cheek poster depicting how commercial ice cream cones are purportedly made.

In the evening I went for a walk in the area around the city beach. There was a large paved space and a gazebo overlooking it.

I found the bus stand where I had to be the next morning to catch the Fred Olson service to connect to the ferry for a day trip to Corralejo on Fuerteventura, the adjacent island.

The beach was quiet in the evening.

The city had a forlorn mood. Of course, most of the visitors were in the resorts, rather than in the city. I felt like I had sent myself into exile at the edge of the world.