Jebel Toubkal

The alarm sounded at 4:30 a.m. We were ready to begin by 5:00. Unfortunately, the sun had different ambitions. So we waited. And first light struck around 6:00. So off we set, unsure if we would be able to make the summit in a days time.


The destination

After reading our guide book we felt certain we could do the entire climb in a day. After talking to other trekkers and guides, we were not as convinced. The summit reaches approximately 13,000 ft, and we were beginning the trip at around 5,000 ft. Total round trip distance; 23 km. The most common itinerary includes hiking up to the refuge on day one (3207m , 6.9 km), staying the night, and then summiting and returning to Imlil on day two. Our desire to complete the hike in one day was founded on the fact that guides do it all the time, and the difficulty was in the elevation gain versus distance. Our concerns were resting on the simple fact that no one but guides seemed to do the trek in a day.


The final saddle

By the time we had reached the refuge, we were feeling great and ready for more, so up we continued. At this point, the going got a little tougher. The elevation gain was noticeable, particularly on the seemingly endless scree filled slopes. But the views were beautiful and the determination to summit was tangible. The winter snow was still melting; grasses and wildflowers lined the path of the run-off. It’s difficult to explain how three hours can pass without much to tell. You keep looking up, hoping you are close, then looking down and watching your feet. All in all the last 500 feet were difficult, but the summit was stunning. We were the last group to reach the top, as most folks head for the summit around the same time we left Imlil. It was just us, the choughs (non-birder translation: mountain crows with red bills and feets), and hundreds of miles of Moroccan countryside stretching into the distance. We celebrated with chocolate, and the joy in knowing we didn’t have anywhere to go but down.

Success!

Down, however, is always more difficult than you imagine. But, it must be done. We were relieved to make it to the refuge, refuel with water, and feel confident that we would make it back to Imlil before nightfall. Our last bit from the refuge was accompanied by tired feet and many herds of goats that scattered the valley slopes, all nibbling away at dinner. The return to Imlil seemed interminable, but we eventually stumbled (literally) into town just a few minutes late for supper.

Home sweet home...so far...

Note to readers: Do not try this at home. We’re still uncertain if we would do it again.

Imlil

We’ve decided four days is our minimum stay in any one location. Any fewer and we’re bound to go crazy from moving too much. After four days in Marrakech, we were ready to head out of the city into the Atlas Mountains. The recommended transportation: grands taxis. Grands taxis are crème colored Mercedes from the 1970’s that carry 6 extremely cramped passengers. Two in the front seat, four in the back. This seems a bit unsafe, but in comparison to the people riding mopeds without helmets (we saw not a single person wearing a helmet), it is one of the most common and safe ways to travel medium distances in Morocco.

Village above Imlil

Imlil is where the paved road South of Marrakech ends. And is one of the more popular Berber villages for beginning treks into the Atlas Mountains.


From one village to another

Jebel Toubkal (4167m) is the tallest mountain in Northern Africa, and many a tourist ventures to Imlil with a summit in mind.

Jebel Toubkal; center

We stayed at a wonderful spot called Dar Adrar. It is run by a well known guide in the area, and consists of three rooms on top of a lower level inhabited by the family (the guide Mohamed Aztat, his wife, his two brothers, his sister, his three children, a cow, a donkey, a chicken, a cat and her two kittens). It’s a bit up the hill from the town center, which makes for a brutal walk with big bags but incredible views of the Ourika Valley. Our fare included breakfast and dinner, and we eagerly anticipated dinner every day because it was a feast! Not only was it plentiful, but incredibly delicious and local. Fresh khoobz baked daily (we could smell the smoke every morning around six or so when they started the fire going), soups, tajines, and couscous dishes. Probably our favorite was a pile of couscous with carrots, summer squash, potatoes, chicken, prunes and golden raisins on top. Accompanied with a dish of the sweet sauce that the entire mix had simmered in, we ate until our bellies couldn’t take another bite.

Post supper moonrise

We spent a number of days doing day hikes, which took us through cherry orchards, terraces of wheat fields, corn and potatoes, walnut trees and pine forests at higher elevations. We visited during harvest time, so most locals are hard at work harvesting crops. Particularly striking was the grass harvest. Women of all ages spend their days collecting tall grass by hand, then loading the enormous bundles on their backs and hauling them to various places to dry.

Wheat harvest by hand

The most popular location for drying is rooftops, and we think the grass is used for feeding animals in the winter. We also climbed Jebel Toubkal, and spent a few days being plain old lazy. There is nothing like doing laundry, reading, nibbling fresh cherries and drinking mint tea to settle the soul.

The food!

Wandering around the food stalls in Marrakech was a great introduction to Moroccan cuisine.



Food stall in the Djemaa el-Fna.


Some of the odder dishes included bercouch (snail soup, literally snails and snail broth) and sheep heads (hair singed off, head cleaned and stewed with chickpeas). At one of the places, we didn’t even order, they just brought us bread, a little bowl of mild coriander salsa, and a plate of merguez (small sausages). Sooo tasty! Another spot had dates, sweet cakes, and harira (soup with meat, chickpeas, tomatoes and lentils seasoned with coriander and lemon)… and that’s it.




Perhaps the best meal we had in Marrakech!


Sitting down to some of these places is intimidating, as they either don’t have menus or much of the menu is in Arabic script. But it’s totally worth it. We ended up eating where the locals ate and trying most of the specialties (though the sheep head stalls were an exception as neither of us could nut up and try it), trusting that Moroccans know where to go for good Moroccan food. Last but not least, let’s not forget the old standbys: couscous and tajine (named after the cookware it is concocted in). Available almost everywhere, these are the meals we’ve eaten the most. There are infinite variations on these dishes, but most include meat (chicken, lamb or beef), heaps of local vegetables, and a side of khoobz (local bread) to sop up the juices with. And the couscous here is steamed, not boiled, which makes a massive difference. Napkins consist of paper cut into small squares. Really, paper.



Fresh-squeezed juice.


There are a few dessert stalls, serving mostly hunja (spicy cinnamon tea) and sellout (spicy gingerbread like stuff). Drinks are a bit limited in selection, but not in quality. Fresh-squeezed orange juice is available pretty much everywhere. In the Djemaa el-Fna, it costs 3 Dh, or about forty cents. Then there are sodas, and bottled water, and such. But mint tea is what everyone drinks. It’s part of the daily life of any Moroccan. It’s almost an institution. You drink it morning, noon and night. It’s also a Moroccan way to show friendliness and hospitality to friends and tourists. Moroccans like to hang out and chat, and tea is the perfect addition to enjoying time spent with friends. It’s so nice, it may become part of our normal routine even after our trip is over!



Dates, nuts, and more!

Marrakech!

This place is crazy. It helps that our hotel room has a balcony overlooking the busiest street in the busiest part of town. Time in our room was always accompanied by the sounds of horse drawn carriages, scooters, donkey carts, cars, buses and people chattering along the streets below. Crossing the street through this medley of traffic is pretty confusing. You basically wade into the flow, and vehicles either slow down, stop, or swerve around you. Scary at first, but surprisingly effective, and we’ve not seen one person hit yet!


Mint tea to go.

Mosques are ever-present here. Most of the buildings are low (one or two stories), so the massive minarets tower over everything else. They’re beautiful, and they make great landmarks for navigation. Five times a day, loudspeakers broadcast the call to prayer. In a city with tons of mosques, this leads to overlapping, competing calls going on for several minutes. We got used to this over time, but the 4:30 a.m. call caught us pretty off-guard. Somehow we slept through it the first couple nights, and it took us a while after that to figure out that it was normal! Now if it does wake us up, we go straight back to sleep.

Door to a house in Marrakech, with the hand of Fatima.

We’re one block from the Djemaa el-Fna, the central square of the old town, and a really amazing place. During the day it’s a big open square, with stalls selling dried fruits and nuts, fresh squeezed orange juice, shoe polishers, and people scattered around the central pavement area selling various trinkets, doing henna art, dealing hashish, or anything else to try to make a few dirham.

A small square in Marrakech's medina (old town), in the middle of the souqs.

At night, Djemaa el-Fna fills with people, and it takes on an entirely new persona. Approaching the square feels like walking into another world – it’s daunting and mysterious, with a magical air. There are no lights in the square itself, so all you see is a sea of heads stretching out for about a hundred yards (literally thousands of people). They’re backlit by the bare white bulbs of the hundred or so food stalls, all seen through a haze of smoke given off by the grills.

The food is amazing, and so varied. So much so, that we’re dedicating a separate post to it. The waiters and cooks do double-duty as touts, trying to pull in people from the constant stream walking by. Some are persistent, some funny. Any eye contact is sure to result in some kind of exchange. Initially we tried to ignore the advances, but soon realized a brief discussion was more pleasant and they seemed to feel better about it (even if we didn’t eat from their stall). We had one long chat with a kid who related some of the bits he’d learned – sayings to appeal to Brits, Americans, Australians, French, and Spanish – even a short little piece in Welsh. Another guy recited some 30 seconds of Obama’s “Yes We Can” speech. Many of these guys speak four or five languages. And yes, it’s all guys. Women are not as publicly visible as the men, but can be seen as cooks in the food stalls, selling cookies or doing henna art.

Scattered around the square itself are dozens of little circles of people (from 10 to 100 or more), clustered around various performers. Snake-charmers, story-tellers (we couldn’t understand a word), groups playing different kinds of music, dancers, acrobats…

The outside of a spice and dye shop...

And the inside.

Beyond all this are the narrow streets leading into the souqs, a huge maze of shops, markets, small squares, and confusion. If you don’t get lost in the souqs, you haven’t experienced them. They go on for, well, we’re not really sure how far. They seem endless, and at times inescapable. You can’t navigate by streets, and it’s tough to maintain a sense of direction. How the locals find their way around is beyond us. But you get the feeling you could buy anything, absolutely anything, within the depths. Many of the shops are given over to souvenirs, carpets, lanterns, shoes, spices, and sweets. Then there are the furniture shops (beautiful), leatherworks, apothecaries, dye shops. We stumbled into one area that was just chickens, and another with odd animals for sale as pets. Not wanting to carry more stuff, we bought almost nothing, but we sure were tempted.

One of many entrances to the souqs.

This may be overwhelming to read, and as we re-read it, it’s even overwhelming for us. As it should be, it’s very Marrakech!

Amber taking a much-needed break from the mayhem.

Cuenca

Wow, Cuenca is incredible. We would have loved being there, if the weather hadn’t been so terrible. In our two days there, the temperature never got out of the 40s, and it rained almost the entire time. It’s too bad, as the city’s old town is striking and beautiful, and the surrounding area has great potential for hiking. The old town is built up on a bluff between two gorges. Many of the buildings are right out on the edge of 100-foot cliffs. A few even jut out over the edge – somehow these cantilevered structures have hung there for 600-odd years despite the pull of gravity.

No place to build but up


Other structures seem to blend into the rock itself, and in some places bricks have been used to fill in small ravines, with houses perched atop. A vertigo-inducing footbridge that stretches across a valley provides an awesome vantage point for viewing one side of the town.


It's as far as it looks


Despite the rain and cold, we did get out for a couple of walks. We passed random staircases heading down or up the cliffs. These lead to the little houses dotted about small flat spots mid-way up the cliffs. One area had climbing routes galore, and overhanging ledges provided shelter from the heaviest of the rain. We could have spent days wandering around the hills right outside of town.

From afar

A beautiful place, and one that we would have enjoyed exploring even more in good weather.

Valencia!

We loved Valencia. We arrived there after a 4-day stay in Barcelona, and it was a refreshing change from tiny, overpriced rooms, sights packed with tourists, and the general busyness of a big city. Valencia is much mellower, more relaxed. The people seem happier, and are definitely friendlier. Everything costs, well, about what we think it should cost. It feels like a very livable city.

Much of the joy of our stay came from the ease of being there. No big rushes, no fighting the crowds. We had planned to be there a couple days, but ended up staying a week.

There is a huge 8km-long park running around the edge of the city, in the old bed of the Turia River (which was rerouted some 40 years ago after a big flood). It’s an amazing spot for a run, a bike ride, soccer games, throwing the frisbee, or just escaping from the (mild) hustle of the city. We spent a lot of time there.

One of Valencia’s big attractions is the City of Arts and Sciences, a huge complex lying at one end of the riverbed park. We stayed there for an entire day, and still felt rushed. The buildings are odd, futuristic, and lined up end to end. Two of them look like a pair of crawling beetles.




The definite highlight was the Oceonographic, an incredible aquarium, the biggest in Europe. Wonderful tanks with thousands of healthy-looking fish, crabs, lobsters, and all sorts of other marine creatures. It was a nice complement to the diving we did on Gran Canaria. We also explored the Science Museum (fairly dull, and a big waste of an incredible space), and saw an IMAX film on the Alps (sweet, if a bit cheesy).




Just a few miles south of Valencia is a big lagoon called l’Albufera. It’s surrounded on most sides by big areas of rice fields (which happen to be packed with birds!).




It is, very logically, the birthplace of paella, a perfectly local dish. It’s typically made up of rice (from l’Albufera), olive oil (produced in abundance around here), saffron (much of which comes from just inland), and various seafood (from the Mediterranean). Take all the best local ingredients, throw them together in a huge pan (made specifically for paella) to make a delicious dish. Perfect! We had it several times.


These spots sell paella cooking equipment only!


Another interesting local consumable is horchata. It’s a milk-like drink made from chufa, or tiger nuts. And it’s delicious! It’s usually served with fartones, a lightly-glazed donut-like pastry in the shape of a breadstick.

It wasn’t all fun and tasty treats, though. One day we went for a stroll in the park, and got caught in a serious rainstorm. After waiting it out under a bridge for half an hour, we headed for home, and got thoroughly drenched before we made it back to our pension.

The Miquilet bell tower; 500 years old, 11000 kg


We were sad to leave, but the city gave us a nice little send-off. Struggling to find food for the train ride to Cuenca, we stumbled upon a spot with delicious take-out: paella and stuffed red peppers. Hooray! We hope to be back here, to our favorite city of the trip so far.

Welcome to Grumptown

Sweetie n’ Pooks talk about Grumptown as a metaphor for a general absence of happiness. It’s mostly a mechanism of making humor out of a bad attitude. We’ve visited Grumptown frequently on our trip so far, and felt it important to include it in our list of experiences.


Seriously people, lets get serious about being serious

Spaniards also tend to visit Grumptown regularly. So far, our general impression of them has been a mixed bag: some of them are quite friendly and nice, but many are loud, obnoxious, and occasionally quite rude. They have a principal called “Viva yo!” which literally translates to “Hurray for me!” The second part is an implied, “And to hell with you.”

In action, this means they’ll cut in line, nudge up beside you at the ticket counter waiting for their turn (or just start talking to the attendant before your transaction is finished), take your spot at the post office (even though you have the number that was called), or just generally be a pain in the butt. They also seem to have no ability to moderate the volume of noise they make. In hotels they stomp around, slam doors and shout at each other independent of time of day. During waking hours we easily laugh at this, at 2:30 in the morning it doesn’t seem quite as humorous.

Imagine all the considerate things you do for people in a given day. Move to the side of the sidewalk if someone else is approaching, give a seat on the bus to an older person, or wait for someone to finish their transaction before barging in to complete your own. Well, Spaniards pretty much don’t do any of these. A classic example. We were about to get on a train, waiting on the platform, giving a bit of space (maybe four feet) for the people exiting the train. When from behind come two teenage boys who shove past us (literally) and squeeze into the space we had left, both blocking the exit and cutting in front of us aggressively. Lets also make a couple things clear here, this train was not crowded and there were probably ten people waiting to get on. So there was no point other than being first. Hurray for you!!

Perhaps it’s cultural and they think we’re foolishly passive or naïve or both. But it’s certainly tainted our experience during our travels. The luxury we have, however, is time. So we’ve taken to laughing or smiling at these gestures, instead of becoming irritated or angry. A few minutes lost for us is no big deal.

On a more positive note, both genders seem to soften over time, as the folks we stay with seem hardened at first and nicer by the time we’re leaving. And we certainly appreciate their pushy streak when it comes to demanding good food, wine and lifestyle. The take home message seems to be that Spaniards demand what they want. And anything else is intolerable.

La Sagrada Familia

Welcome home to La Sagrada Familia....




Gaudi dedicated the latter part of his life to the design and creation of this cathedral. Although this structure was originally intended to be a smaller church built rapidly, the schedule adjusted a bit when Gaudi became involved (construction began in 1882 and it’s not ‘scheduled’ to be completed until the 2020’s).

Most noteworthy of this enormous building is the emphasis on natural forms. The choice of stone, the structure and stone of the main columns (like trees with branches that diverge near the ceiling), the glittering sky-like ceiling and the hundreds of sky-lights to allow natural light are just a few of the highlights. Additionally, adorning the cathedral are tall spirals that very literally replicate a conical snail shell. Atop these towers are the whimsical touches of Gaudi – bundles of fruits and vegetables in his classic bright mosaic medium. Standing in the cathedral gave us the sense of standing in a forest, looking up at the sky. It was perplexing as we were so obviously in a building, with the construction site taking up the majority of the interior of the church.

The other thing we kept thinking as we meandered through the cathedral was how Gaudi possibly managed to design such a structure in the early 1900’s without it collapsing. As we soon learned, Gaudi developed a unique method to solve this exact problem. He created an identical replica of the church, but on a much smaller scale. He then inverted the image and reconstructed the building with string (representing columns, walls, etc.). Next, he hung small bags of lead shot to simulate the distribution of weight and forces on various structural components of the building. There was a replica of this model in the museum adjacent to the cathedral – astounding!

The facades of the cathedral are still under construction, though two of the three are complete (nativity façade and passion façade). The glory façade is next in line. Although the cathedral was much different than other Gaudi landmarks we visited (it was his final project and with a much more serious and religious tone), it was very moving. His innovation and creativity are obvious, designing a monument that still feels fresh and novel more than 100 years later.

Barcelona

This city is a diverse and hopping place. Punk rockers, girl skate boarders, a huge Indian population, drug dealers, prostitutes, business men, pickpockets, free bicycles, styling ladies and of course the very unusual Sweetie & Pooks.

2000-year-old Roman Towers, in the heart of the city

Whoa, there are a lot of prostitutes on our street. Last night, when we walked by this alley, not knowing it was the location of our next hostal, there was a police van and some kind of big shakedown going on. What we didn’t see was the dozens of prostitutes standing along the street. Today, walking down the street with our bags and everything, we noticed them. Fortunately, our place is one block further down, which is oddly free of shady characters. And that one dodgy block (it really is only one block) seems to get more vibrant and less seedy at night. Don’t worry, moms, we were fine.

Barcelona cathedral

So many places to explore and glorious surprises we happened upon. It’s been much more of a sightseeing venture than the other places we’ve visited, partly because there is so much to see. The variety of architecture is incredible, from the old churches and cathedral to the playful Modernista buildings of Gaudí & co. The Barri Gotic, in the old city, was our favorite area. It feels like a hundred buildings from different places and times all smooshed together. The narrow streets and high buildings make it difficult to navigate and easy to enjoy being lost.

Pictures do the job better than descriptions, but some of our highlights were… Park Guell, where Gaudi took a shot at landscape architecture and hit the jackpot; the Cathedral, with its stunning gothic architecture and overwhelming collection of altarpieces.; Casa Batllo, another beautiful Gaudi creation; and our favorite sitting-spot, the Plaça Reial.

Parque Guell (can you find the moon?)

Markets! We’ve seen them in other cities, but Barcelona has a ton of them! They’re all delightful open-air covered spaces, with amazing varieties of fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, and so on. We loved them. Our favorite purchases were pineapple (pre-sliced with fork included) and figs.

Jamon, jamon, o jamon? Each of these was 100-200 euros per kg!

There’s a wide pedestrian boulevard called La Rambla in the heart of the city. We encountered probably 10 times more Americans in that area than we have in the rest of the country so far. A big change from the Canaries, where people said, “Wow, you’re from the US? We don’t get many of you here.” The hordes of people on La Rambla attract street performers, including elaborately costumed creatures interacting with the audience (a centaur, Atlas holding the globe, a clown riding a bike with a skeleton companion – there were dozens). One of our favorites was a ridiculously skilled juggler, who had some 100 people transfixed.

In the end, we would go back to Barcelona in a heartbeat. But it was a sensory overload to say the least, and Valencia seemed the perfect follow-up destination.

"I'm NOT tired!"

We've seen a lot of big and beautiful things on our trip, but we thought we would take a moment to share some of the little things that happen on a daily basis.

If I only had a dime for every time I heard "I'm NOT tired!".....



Five minutes later....

The Temperature Battle

Our alarm clock contains a thermometer, which conveniently allows us to banter about whether it's too hot or cold in the room. It reads 77 a lot of the time, which leaves us to wonder a little, but here is a pictorial representation of a 77 degree evening.



Pooksicle, loving the 77 degree heat.



Sweetie al horno (translation: baked) at the same temperature

Barranco de Guayadeque

On the eastern side of the island remains a small cave village called Guayadeque (barranco is just a valley). There are caves all over the island, predominantly in the rugged mountain terrain, but very few that are inhabited. In Agaete, we saw many used as storage rooms, doghouses, or chicken coops . We also stumbled upon one that resembled a vacated small community with one enormous oven made in the same architectural fashion. Some of these caves date back thousands of years to the guanches, who are presumed to be the original inhabitants of the Canary islands.


Happy, at the cave restaurant

We had been looking forward to these in particular as they were just an hour and a half walk from Aguimes. The Spaniards, as usual, were aghast that we would walk (why walk when you can take a car!). We, as usual, enjoy the process of seeing the island and are stubborn about the Spanish obsession with convenience. They can't imagine taking two buses to get somewhere, whereas we love the bus system because you can basically get anywhere. Needless to say, the walk was delightful, full of olive groves, a trickling creek (a rarity on this barren island where they build houses in the riverbeds), and a continual serenade of noisy pooches. What is it with barking dogs in the Canaries? They are everywhere! And they seem to relish in joining the roosters to wake the island in the morning.



One of our favorites (note skins drying above, and oven outside)

We stumbled upon the town in no time. It's tiny, consisting of 25-30 homes, two restaurants, and a small church. The homes consist of a small entrance, usually built out from the cliffs and painted. To our inspection, it appeared that most had electricity and running water. The church was incredible, and felt as old as the island itself. It was simple, a small rectangular room with a humble alter and a worn stoup (fancy word for holy water bowl). It was most notable that most everything with the exception of the pews was carved out of the earth.

We strolled around until the waning daylight nudged us on our way back to Aguimes. What a day to remember.

No Cranes!!!

This may sound hard to believe, but Aguimes, the town on Gran Canaria we’ve been staying in for the past week, is the first place we’ve stayed that didn’t have construction cranes. Every other town we’ve stayed in, and most of those we’ve been to, had cranes. Even tiny Torla, the pueblo of a couple hundred people up in the Pyrenees, had at least two. In some cities, like Madrid, San Sebastián, Barcelona, it’s tough to even count how many. From a high point overlooking San Sebastián, I tried to count, and lost track around 35.

Spain is building like crazy. Much of it is due, we think, to tourism money flowing in, and investors flocking to tourist hot spots to build the next hotel. The southern coast of Gran Canaria is overrun with sprawling hotel resorts. Many areas along the Mediterranean coast are similarly developed.

In the cities, it’s more likely a result of the rural-to-urban migration, something that’s been happening rapidly in Spain for the last 50 years or so. Houses out in the country sit empty, while more and more apartment blocks go up on the outskirts of the big cities. On our train ride out of Madrid, it was incredible to see the northern edge of the city. The urbanization ended, there was a kind of buffer zone of cranes and half-built apartment buildings, then farm fields.

With all this construction going on, we have to wonder how sustainable it all is. The increasing urban population is likely to stay. But the tourism could dry up as quickly as it came, especially if rising fuel costs start forcing people to cut back on flights and long drives.

Adventuring around Aguimes

Besides unpacking our clothes into dressers and cooking in our kitchen, we had some particular things we wanted to do during our week stay in Aguimes.

First, diving. We went with a British company which was exciting because we got to speak English for a bit of the day. Though we overestimated our understanding of the British accent, we managed. We went on two dives, about an hour a piece. We saw tons of new things! Cuttlefish, arrowhead spider crabs, a scorpion fish, a school of barracuda, tons of sponges, anemones with cleaner shrimp, garden eels (they look like seaweed from far away but as soon as you get up close they scoot back into their holes in the sand), nudibranchs (rare brightly colored slugs), a sea hare (a snail with a ruffle and it’s shell on the inside), and a feather star (like a star fish made out of five individual feathers). We also swam under an arch 60 feet down and went back into a small cave.

The dunes

Second, the sand dunes of Maspalomas. After our dives, we headed off to the southern coast of the island. Generally, we avoided this area like the plague as it is famous for hideous resort development and all the daiquiri imbibing tourists. Locals suggest not visiting this area at all, it seems it breaks their hearts a little. Despite all this madness, there are some dunes that are well preserved on the Southern tip of the island, and a nearby oasis. You may laugh, but it’s literally called “The Oasis.” It’s comprised of fresh water, a commodity in high demand, particularly to birds migrating from Africa. It’s some of the only natural standing water on the island. The sand dunes were picturesque and peaceful. Like a fresh layer of snow, or those moments when you can smell the rain before it begins to fall. The oasis fit the bill, and we enjoyed yet another ecosystem on this small island.

Lemons of Tejeda

Lastly, the mountains. We had visited the high pine forests near Agaete, but were intrigued by the high mountain town of Tejeda in particular. The bus ride up reminded us of the Grand Canyon with enormous boulders and rugged rock
formations on the highest peaks. Again, it was quite dry, though they must receive more water here than any other part of the island because agriculture flourishes without the use of greenhouses.

This pretty much sums it up

The Circus!

Went to the circus in Las Palmas – the Gran Circo Mundial. It was an odd mix of great acrobatic human acts and a number of animal acts that were, to be honest, terrible. It opened with the standard full-cast song-and-dance number a lot of circuses have. It’s designed, I think, to take the audience from the real world into the fantasy realm of the circus. It did not do the job. The mis-timing was impressive for the few simple dance steps, and many of the people weren’t putting much energy into it, not even smiling (and trust us, they were supposed to). They looked like a tired cast near the end of a long run of shows, which is exactly what they were. On to the acts.

Grubnuts extraordinaire, but happy nonetheless.

First, some of the good. One guy did great aerial stunts with two long ribbons hanging from a wire, which he wound around his arms and legs – imagine the rings in gymnastics, but more fluid and impressive. We saw the first motorcycles-in-a-cage act either of us has ever seen, and it was amazing. Three guys on motorcycles zipping around inside an iron sphere maybe 20 feet in diameter, crossing paths, doing loops, spins; it was fantastic. A juggler who did all sorts of things, including juggling five full-size soccer balls in various ways. A contortionist doing all kinds of crazy poses. Oddly, this slow, elegant performance had a campy, anticlimactic ending – she used her feet to shoot a balloon with a bow-and-arrow.

And some of the bad. An act with two seals doing various poses, holding balls on their noses – this one might have been good if the people with them had any charisma or crowd skills. A horse act that we kept thinking we just didn’t get, but it seemed like much of the audience didn’t get it. This one was really awful, and went on for much too long – horses awkwardly “dancing” to music; one stretch of about five minutes was the horse dancing with a woman. Really, really dumb, and though it maybe would have been impressive to horse aficionados, I can’t imagine it ever being in a circus in the US. There was a really old-school-circus act with a guy who brought a bunch of alligators out into the ring, and basically said, “OOH, look at the scary alligators!” Really, that was it. It was easy to see why this sort of thing has gone out of style in most circuses – maybe it had some impact 50 years ago, but it certainly doesn’t now.

Funnies: Round 2

Emergency exits on buses are basically big windows, a target, and a hammer (provided – attached to ceiling of bus above window). No ski boots on buses. Literally, a picture with a ski boot, with a universal red circle and diagonal line. Another sign looks to indicate no bugling! It’s actually a no honking sign, but looks a whole hell of a lot like a bugle.

There’s a hip new style for teenage boys. Check out the pic (poorly centered, but imagine getting busted by these guys!) to see a low-key example. The list is too long to post. This guy’s missing the gaudy plastic jewelry, particularly the mis-matched plastic star earrings and matching plastic necklace. The guy on the left is sporting the haircut that maybe 75% of men age 10-35 have right now. Matt is not this cool…yet.

A below the waist close-up:




And then there are the hammer pants, totally too-legit-to-quit.




Aguimes has developed an innovative strategy for dealing with the dog poop problem:




Last, but not least, the camel. We stumbled on this guy late at night, thought it was real, and were thoroughly startled. Odd, because a camel on the streets of Aguimes makes absolutely no sense.