Pine trees, clouds and castles, the central plateau of Gran Canaria This article is taken by Jing
At first, this was not the case, and I dragged my suitcase out of the port of Las Palmas on Gran Canaria, cars driving past me one after another, horns honking, old high-rise buildings on both sides of the road, and bus stops hidden underground— a mediocre capital.
This is one of the most prosperous of the seven small islands of Canary – rich in products and densely populated, and even Sanmao and Jose lived here for a long time, and the price of prosperity is that the southernmost British beach is indeed crowded with Britons. The standard British accent at the front desk is not the same as the stuttering spoken language of native Spanish.
Although politically owned by Spain, the Canary Islands are geographically closer to the African continent, with the nearest island of Etventura just over 100 kilometres off the coast of Africa, where it is warm and sunny all year round, and every winter, Europeans fly like migratory birds and stay for months.
Briton Beach is like another Yalong Bay. High-class hotels have invaded the land from the seaside. Standing on the balcony on the 10th floor of the Complax Hotel, I couldn't see the sea. With all the lighted houses and neatly built turf, people eat in the glass-roofed underground cafeteria, where beer and soda from each meal fill roughly a standard pool.
I didn't expect to climb over this dune and see the sea
I must admit that one of the interesting things about Sanya is that there is a desert on the seashore here. This eerie sand dune lying on the shores of The Mapolas stretches inland for hundreds of meters, perhaps transported by aliens from the Sahara Desert directly opposite the island many years ago. At 12:00 noon, I had been climbing in the dunes for nearly an hour, encountering several bushes with naked men (Maspolomas Beach is a famous local celestial beach). The sand in the sun was very hot, and the last 100 meters were almost half-running towards the Atlantic Ocean.
The moment I finally put my foot in the water, I had the heart to look around. On the beach, sun umbrellas and deck chairs circle the territory, and in the middle are groups of elderly people sitting idly. The water was warm, but no one went down to the sea to swim, they just stood against the wind, letting the waves lap at themselves one by one. This beach is cosy and gentle, no one comes purely for the scenery, people only think about the atmosphere. They're right here, like the kind of mint in toothpaste.
We turned around and went into the mountains. The travel brochure reads: "The mountains of Gran Canaria have a view of the Tibetan Plateau, and the magnificent scenery makes you forget that you are on the island. "This description makes me eager to try.
From the seashore, it takes only 20 minutes to enter the territory of the mountain, circling all the way up, bypassing one hairpin bend after another, and the height rises to more than 1,000 meters, and the sea level has been thrown into the invisible distance. People's identities are easy to identify – those with pale faces clinging to the armrests are tourists, and those who chirp Spanish and bus drivers pull homely locals. I have to admire the driver, who can still keep talking and laughing when he quickly goes around one turn after another.
Cruz De Tejeda, the central point of the island, has only two hotels, a restaurant, a visitor center and several souvenir shops. In addition, it is a lofty mountain.
Cascading mountains and clouds are the Teide Snow Mountain on the opposite island and the highest peak in the Canary Islands. At night, I didn't see the snowy mountains, only the clouds on the sea, the white expanse, and the starry sky above my head was crumbling. There was silence in the mountains, only the sound of the wind brushing against the pine trees, and occasionally a car drove by, jumping like a small firework in a deep valley, and perhaps the car was the only change here in many years.
Sunset in the mountains
Entertainment is only available on foot. Asked the front desk of the hotel for detailed directions, four hours to walk to a camp, six hours to walk to a strange rock, but there is no return vehicle, need to return on foot.
These routes were not developed specifically for travelers, and the Canary indigenous Guanche people have followed these paths to the rest of the island since ancient times. But for urbanites, the "paper guide" hike is a bit like a scavenger hunt, with prompts such as "walk along a canal until you see a cave and then turn left to the second fork in the road" or "go east through this pine forest and then turn to the rugged path to the southeast to keep going," but in fact we don't know where to go.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before I discovered that at every fork in the road, there was a red circle mark drawn by the predecessor at the correct intersection. In this way, all kinds of behaviors such as crossing streams, climbing dirt slopes, and walking through trees will consciously have a goal and work extra hard. When you return home, you will naturally have the appetite to order an appetizer and order honey rum and a large piece of strawberry almond pie. "The freshest almonds of the year!" The foreman recommended, "If you come earlier, you can catch the apricot blossoms in the valley, which is very beautiful." "I've seen the apricot blossoms raining down the mountain road on a postcard." Next time, next time. I smiled at him, not just politely.
Lanzarote's most surprising cave scenery, the mystery of which is indescribable
More time had to be left to Lanzarote.
I first met Lanzarote in Almodóvar's film Broken Embrace. The movie isn't spectacular, but Lanzarote's moonlit black-and-white scenery, paired with Penelope Cruz's red dress and Cat Power's melancholy voice, has a quirky chemistry. After seven hours of Atlantic drift from Gran Canaria, I finally saw the black island.
Lanzarote is unlike any other island I've been to. Volcanic eruptions many years ago formed this small island, and even if it has been inhabited by humans today, it has not destroyed the imprint of natural forces. The island is a relic of a volcanic eruption. People built gardens with volcanic stone, planted succulents in volcanic ash, and all the houses were deliberately painted white and no more than three floors, as if to deliberately echo the appearance of this cold island.
Most of the time it was desolate and silent, and there were no town markers, let alone people, for a few kilometers out of the car. We followed the local guide Michael to see the volcano. The landform of Timanfaya Volcano Park was formed in 1730 by more than 100 craters erupting continuously for six years, accounting for 1/4 of the entire island.
Hiking and cycling are strictly prohibited here, and tourist buses are only allowed to take tourists around in good weather. Ring-shaped extinct craters abound, and large expanses of black volcanic magma and ash stretch out to no sign of life. The theme song of the movie "Star Wars" sounded just right inside the coach, and Michael wasted no time in telling us that the natural landscape of the volcano park is so well maintained thanks to the strict regulations of the government: no immigration to the volcano park, cars can only be parked at two attractions in the park, only a tourist resting place is built at the volcano attraction, there is only one restaurant inside, after 6 p.m., the park is closed, all staff must be evacuated to the park, etc.
Even the only tourist resting place, its black-gray appearance is completely integrated into the rough impression of the volcano park, as if it were a UFO landing in this exotic world. The building's designer, Cesar Manrique, a special engineering art architect, once said: "There is no doubt that Lanzarote is a natural work of art. So in 1974, when the government decided to develop small island tourism, Cesar, who was the chief designer, designed seven attractions throughout the island. All designs were premised on preserving the original appearance of the volcanic landscape, and he abandoned all buildings that could damage the natural landscape. This is why the Canary Islands are also volcanic islands today, but only Lanzarote has a pristine landscape.
Timanfaya Volcano, a desolate place
The recurring black sand beach in Broken Embrace is called El Golfo, and it is said that the inspiration for the entire film also came from this. Black sand, cliffs, strong winds, huge waves, and the eerie green lake behind it because of its high salinity, while the Atlantic Ocean in front of you is a mystery, and the white waves roll towards yesterday. Standing here, I feel that the wildness of Lanzarote and the madness of Almodóvar are connected to each other.
Still, many islanders are unhappy with the influx of travelers today. Michael takes us to a viewpoint on the mountain at the northern tip of the island, where we can see the outlying islands on the other side. "That's really primitive, no hotels, only about 300 fishermen, 5 restaurants, a hospital and a school." It is a small outlying island, but only a small area along the coast has buildings, and the rest is empty and natural.
"Haven't you thought about development?"
"Fishermen don't want it, I think, and neither do they." Michael said simply. I know that the "it" he was referring to was the island itself.
I think of the white blind crabs that have been trapped here for hundreds of years in the water caves of the Jameo Del Agua volcano. The little crabs that have been hit by the volcanic eruption can no longer return to their deep-sea homeland, and can only listen to the waves of the Atlantic Ocean through the cave. Perhaps in the face of nature, everything is small, only to obey its will, to rely on its sniffles.
There are many blind crabs living in the water cave