Please feel free
to email me with any comments
 |
|---|
"I'm going to La Gomera in November", I mentioned.This was the usual conversation I had when I told people where I was going. Where is El Hierro? Well, it's the furthest West of the Canary Islands and is so obscure that no-one, but no-one has even heard of it! This is an inditement on our times, however as, up until a couple of centuries ago, the world revolved around (or rather spread out from) Hierro - for over 2000 years it was defined as the 'Edge of the Ancient World' - until some bugger realised that the Earth was round & moved the Zero Meridian to Greenwich!"Lucky bugger - isn't that the back-of-beyond, in the Canaries?"
"Yes, then I'm going to El Hierro."
"Where the bloody hell's that?"
"Well beyond!"
I left Luton Airport on Friday 13 November for the island of Tenerife with Explore Worldwide, where we were met by our guide, a Scouser called Mike. The temperature difference was somewhere around 70°C - how on earth were we going to walk in this?
The next day we caught the ferry to La Gomera, followed by a bus to Agulo, which dropped us off at the edge of a cliff road where we set off up the steep mountain tracks on our first walk. The view was amazing, although very hazy. The path wound it's way up the cliff side, edged by Prickly Pears. I was tempted to try one, but then caught sight of the dozens of tiny hair-like spikes and thought better of it! At the top of the hill - quite a climb in the 90° heat - we reached the Visitors' Centre, where we had a chance of a rest and a beer. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, as the heat and the beer soon started to take it's toll. The islands are volcanic in origin and a short video show at the centre took us through the history of the island.
We continued along a myriad of old donkey- and goat tracks, passing amazing palm trees, to a bar in the middle of nowhere. Here, a local was serenading everyone in sight and we rested - over a lemonade! Just behind where we sat was an indoor barbecue, where the cook was throwing half sides of beef onto the grill. I don't know how much they cost, but it certainly looked like one hell of a meal! After our repas, we continued onwards & downwards towards the town of Vallehermosso, passing more palms, giant flowers and some very impressive terracing. Because of the steepness of the barrancos (valleys), Gomera is heavily terraced; dry stone walls traversing the whole side of the valley.
Vallehermosso sits near the coast, beneath an imposing rock buttress peppered with cave entrances. When we arrived, the town was hosting a carnival for the Virgin Mary. Traditionally, each year, a statue of the Virgin is carried around the islands in full splendour & tradition. The whole town - and probably others - were out in the fountained square to watch the procession. We quickly found our way to the bar, where we de-booted and collapsed in a heap of bodies & beer. We were split up into groups across the town, in small apartments - mine was above the bank, overlooking the square. Evening came and brought with it the culinary delights that were to face us for the next two weeks. I managed to upset everyone at an early stage by ordering the Goat! (A bit fatty, but nice)
The next morning, we set off down the road to the coast and quickly climbed the almost sheer side of the barranco to about 2000'; the heat was now approaching the 90s and the going was slow and exhausting (I know how Lawrence of Arabia felt now!) There was very little shade available on this narrow, winding path above the sea. One of the most amazing things about this place is that it doesn't matter which side of the hill you climb, you still seem to be in the sun! Every possible chance of a breather was taken, water never having tasted so beautiful! Once at the top, the views were astounding. On the side which we'd climbed, the sea cliffs rolled away into the distance and up the valley lay the tiny dots of Vallehermosso, with the rock buttress visible from everywhere.
Over the other side of the ridge, the landscape changed. Much less rugged, the now sandy coloured rock led round the corner for a mile or so to an isolated chapel; a common thing out here. Tracks wind for miles from the nearest road to the tops of the mountains where, seeking solitude, the traveller can rest peacefully and admire the vista.
After a much longed for lunch stop, we set off once more along the track,
passing through some shade awarding trees, until eventually reaching another
chapel, adorned in bunting. This was where the Virgin Mary had been brought
the day before. Below us, at the edge of the sea, basalt formations rose
in crystalline splendour, crashed by the waves. The last time I'd seen
anything like this was on Iceland! From here, a good track descended the
barranco towards Vallehermosso cemetery, where the dead are laid above
ground in tower block coffins, like rows of filing cabinets. Quite a shrine.
Our next port of call was Chipuda - at around 1000m above sea level, the highest village on La Gomera. Our hotel here would not have looked out of place in a Mexican set Western. An imposing pure white building in the square with the church off to one side was our bed for the night. It really was a bit upmarket, compared to a tent in the Greenlandic wilderness! Above the village, another enormous buttress - akin to Eyre's Rock - towered.
After a long rest here, we set off along the track towards the lonely chapel at the head of Valle Gran Rey - the trip I'd really been looking forward to. All the descriptions I'd read really didn't do this place justice. A strange contortion of rock showed the volcanic nature of this side of the island to grand effect; the geology unfolding before us. The route down the valley started pretty much straight forward, becoming steeper and hairier as we carried on. Soon we were winding our way down the side of the Valle Gran Rey, the path going no more than a few yards before doubling it's way sharply back on itself to traverse the steepest decent I've ever undertaken. The view was breathtaking - and so were some of the drops - as goats came bounding down from our right, across the path in front of us and down the hill to our left.
Eventually reaching the road, it was a fast yomp down to the beach before the sun went in. The sand here, being volcanic, is black and somehow manages to get everywhere. Behind the beach was - you've guessed it - another imposing buttress! Yes, the locations out here are certainly dramatic. Back up the hill, we found out that it's not always easy to maintain your national pride, when in foreign climes.
"Are you English, or Dutch?", the barman asked me.The next day saw us walking from Chipuda along a series of old donkey tracks and through the forests of Garajonay National Park. The scenery was spectacular to say the least and, after a hard slog up the steep track to the summit, we were rewarded with magnificent views across the island. This is the highest point on La Gomera; in the distance, El Hierro loomed out of the ocean - our venue in a few days' time. The path continued down through Juniper & Laurel forests to the village of El Cedro. The track through the forest was so steep that uneven steps had been cut into the path, making walking very tiring. However, one advantage was that the forest provided a welcome relief from the sun, as well as it's own source of food - in the form of an abundance of Chestnuts."English", I replied.
"Are you all from England?", he asked again.
"Yes, we're all English."
"No, we're not!" cried Enid, indignantly. "I'm Welsh".
"Oh, aye, I'd forgotten that", I said. "We're English - she's Welsh."
"Yes," replied the barman, confused. "From England?"
"No, from Wales. I'm Welsh!" explained Enid.
"Yes, but Wales is in England", at which point we all burst into laughter - all except poor Enid, that is!
Our final port of call on the island was the capital - San Sebastian. After a day off, to relax & enjoy the beach, we set off by bus to Las Toscas, high in the mountains above San Sebastian. A good road took us down to the isolated village of Benchiguilla, at the head of the barranco of the same name. Benchiguilla hosts a few houses, the ubiquitous white church and a bar with the leanest opening hours known to man - one hour on Sundays! What a bummer to realise that today was Thursday! Another of Benchiguilla's quirks - at least to our experience - was the streetlights with built-in solar panels.
An easy track led down into the Barranco and followed the left hand wall until it (abruptly) became a road! About a mile down the road, the most unusual bar appeared before us - there, in the middle of nowhere - was a Coke machine! Large as life and stocked with both soft drinks and beer! What a great idea, but it'd soon be vandalised in Britain.
The road wound it's way down the valley to reach the rocky beach of Santiago. Here, the waves crashed across the rocks making swimming an absolute nightmare. After about 3 minutes I abandoned the idea and retired to the bar. Santiago is the prime example of the quality and quantity of food in these islands. Being a fishing port, this was the place to get the best possible fish, so 'Catch of the Day' was ordered. About 30 various fish found their way onto our table, along with the ubiquitous Papas Arragadas - salty potatoes - and Mojo! This latter not-so-delicacy is amazing stuff found only in the Canaries. Various versions of green & red mojos can be found in all the restaurants. The Green variety is an olive oil, garlic and parsley dip and varies between mild and "wow!".
The red version varied from one that tasted very herb'n'tomato to another
which was simply a bowl of olive oil with chillies in it! Most however,
came somewhere in the "Ooh, that burns" category! Another peculiarity
of the islands is the vegetable soup, Potaje. Vegetarians beware,
it is common practice to find a piece of meat - for flavour! On a previous
tour, Mike told us that one girl was told it was "Suitable for vegetarians
- just pick out the bones"! Commonplace on the menus - and very nice
- is goat and kid (Cabra & Cabrito). If you can imagine
a Scouse accent, Mike transformed this into "I 'ate our kid!" The
ubiquitous desert everywhere was Flan.
Our final walk on La Gomera was to the isolated German colony at El Cabrito. There is no road to this village, so the walk was over no less than 3 ridges - and through the ensuing barrancos - following the coastline. The view from the last ridge was nothing short of breath-taking. Fruit groves and plantations lay in the valley before us and we spent a while in the bar or on the beach. El Cabrito is so quite, so isolated that it really is the ultimate get-away-from-it-all retreat; a veritable Paradise! All too soon, we had to return to San Sebastian for our evening ferry to El Hierro. Apart from the intense heat, this walk - along with the one into the Valle Gran Rey - was about the best of the holiday.
=====================================
If this was one of the highlights, then the ferry trip to Valverde on Hierro was by far the most boring part of the trip. We left San Sebastian and, 3 hours later, passed by once more - having done a "slight" detour to Tenerife! Whoever at the Explore office had written the description of El Hierro must surely have been laying the foundations for the world's strangest joke! After the individual descriptions of each Gomeran village, our description of Hierro centred heavily around the import/export of fresh fruit and Long Eared Goats! Not much to do, but eat lots of doughnuts (ahh, Homer!)
Nonetheless, we eventually arrived in 'Sleepy Valverde' - we were the ones who were sleepy - and there wasn't a bloody goat to be seen! Our Pension for the night had been described as 'simple accommodation'; they weren't kidding! This place was basic, but it was for only a few hours, luckily.
The next morning we continued to the town of Frontera, set in the impressive expanse of El Golfo bay, the site of the world's largest landslip. A short while ago - about 50 thousand years, to be exact - an enormous volcanic eruption broke the island in two, making around 300 cubic Km disappear into the Atlantic. The view as we wound our way down the mountain road from the cloud-shrouded plateau 1200 metres above, was well worth the tiring ferry journey. There have been some strange plans in recent years to build a space center on Hierro and the locals have shown their general disregard for Cape Kennedy II by writing graffiti everywhere - "No Launch pad - El Hierro For Peace".
The weather had now changed considerably from the previous week on Gomera, giving the island views an Highland feel to them. The mist clung to the towering cliffs in dense patches, between which the tops poked through, making the impression all the more dramatic. Above El Golfo, an expanse of Pine forest afforded us alternative walking territory to La Gomera. Here, there are none of the magnificent barrancos, but instead, the hills show more obvious signs of vulcanization, with rounded tops and ash everywhere. Old Hermitages are everywhere, often in the most unlikely places and present a good place to sit and take in the view.
Hierro was, for me, a place to relax and take in the atmosphere. a 2 or 3 mile walk across town led to the 'beach'. There are, in fact, only a couple of sandy beaches on Hierro, but a semi-sheltered area has been built at Frontera. The waves were crashing several feet over the breakwater and people were actually swimming in it! There was no way in the world that I intended going into that maelstrom, but it was fun to watch the others trying to drown themselves!
All too soon, the time came to head back to the ferry. But we had a day to kill, so we arranged for a trans-Hierro bus trip to see the highlight of the holiday - trees, "bent & twisted like old women" (quote, unquote!) on the opposite side of the island. However, we saw nothing of the promised Long Eared Goats (other than on a plate, anyway). After a magnificent meal in a training college restaurant, we boarded the late night ferry back to Tenerife.
Our tour of the outer Canaries ended with a day on the flanks of Mt. Teide, the volcanic cone which dominates the whole of Tenerife. If anyone had suggested that it was possible to go to the Canaries and avoid the hoards of beachgoers, I wouldn't have believed them. But indeed it is, and we did. The highlight of the tour for me was definitely La Gomera, with it's magnificent vistas and impressive barrancos. I personally thought that, after the first week, El Hierro was a bit of a letdown - perhaps a little too quiet.
Still, what would life be like without contrast?
References:
Explore Worldwide, who organised the trip.
Lonely Planet now have a guide to the Canary Islands
http://www.gomera.org.uk/
(Alternative Gomera) are the publishers of a good looking book which benefits
from regular updates and aims to provide a detailed walking and accomodation
guide for a fortnight's stay (the first chapter can be viewed free on their
website. They say that there are no other English language publications
of the ilk, though the following maps and basic walking guides are available
(Discovery Walking Guides):
La Gomera North
ISBN 1-899554-26-2
La Gomera South
ISBN 1-899554-25-4
La Gomera West (Valle Gran
Rey) ISBN 1-899554-24-6
El Hierro
ISBN 1-899554-32-7
www.canary-islands.com/gomera/cit.htm - a source of further information about the area
Visit http://rec.travelmate.com/for
other info & travelogues
| Please feel free
to email me with any comments
|
|---|
|
|