Tunte – Hoya de Pinata.

Today we left the  northern part of the GR131 which we had previously walked and continued on our pilgrim route across the Island. We set off in cold mist and despite my assertion that we would be walking downhill all the way spent an hour climbing steeply towards Moriscos. Out of the mist appeared our friend the runner, now with followers in tow, we will check how he performs in the grand run in March. This wet weather is due to the trade winds from the NE which had brought Christopher Columbus to the Island and established it as a trading post in the Atlantic. We bypassed Mt. Moriscos and Mt.Negro, the latter a perfect ash cone and arrived at the view point into Caldera de Pinos. That was quite impressive and ‘only’ 3000 years old. Nearby were some Canarian Pines 300 years old.

Mt.Negro.

Caldera de Pinos.

Steep descending on ash through the pines brought us out into rolling green countryside with  grazing sheep, Tagasaste plantations [used for animal feed] and flowering almond trees. Quite a contrast to the higher areas of the Island. A door admitted us into a small bar for a Tropical beer and bocadillos once we had pronounced them correctly. The local police stopped by for a drink and a chat. We emerged into hot sunshine and carried on down lanes past farmsteads and barking dogs. Over to our left the Tamadaba hills seemed impressive in profile, we had climbed them last November. The village of El Saucillo was next and in our endeavours to support the local economy coffee was taken in the café. Despite the fact that there were only three people at the bar the volume of conversation was off the decibel scale, I’m sure it was all very friendly. Our onward route was identified on the road signs. A little peace and quiet followed as we strolled down the lanes and into Hoya Pinada. Our hostel for the night, the Camino Art Hostel, was the last house in the village after the church, on the very edge of the wild barranca. Beata, a Hungarian girl, made us very welcome and proudly showed us round her gardens and property. The girl sharing our dorm was Ukrainian and others staying there are Polish and Spanish.  As the wine was cheap we stayed put for an evening of International discussions.

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Hoya Pineda, with Camino Hostel, salmon coloured house right middle above barranca.

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Tunte – Cruz Tejeda.

In Tunte there is a church dedicated to Santiago [St. James] and one in Galdar at the North end of the Island, between them is one of the ancient Camino Reales which has been recovered by the Cabildo Insular [Regional Government]. A pilgrimage route has been established along this although the route itself is pre Spanish Conquest and Christianity. So today we can complete our GR131 and start a pilgrimage after our obligatory coffee in Plaza Santiago, I still haven’t got used to the taste of the local Canarian coffee, don’t know what they put in it. We spend the next 4 hours climbing up into the centre of the Island. Initially on a steep made up path through pines to the road at Cruz Grande and a rest whilst looking over Tunte and further to the East coast. Across the road is the start of a magnificent cobbled track zigzagging through steep volcanic scenery. At the top the path goes across bare rock, and we stop for a snack [tuna again] as runners pass through. The day is passing, and we don’t seem to have gone far on the map, but the ground levels out through a pine forest growing out of the ash and magma below the highest point of the Island, Pico de Las Nieves 1949 m, which being military is out of bounds.

At Garanon there is a youth camp, and we can get a coffee from a machine, the huts have an appearance of a concentration camp, so I hope the kids survive.

Suddenly we are on a balcony path looking out to all the famous landmarks of Gran Canaria – Roques El Fraile, Nublo, Bentayga,  Mt. Altavista and distant Mt. Teide on Tenerife. Some scenery and we are just in time as the mist starts to role in. Onwards to Cruz de Tejeda and a warm welcome back at El Refugio for the night. It is surprising how quickly the temperature drops up here once in mist, and we are glad of heating in the rooms. Later we are treated to a spectacular sunset over Mt.Teide.

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Ayagaures – Tunte.

Déjà vu at Ayagaures as the taxi dropped us off the next morning, but this time we were heading north on the GR131. Crossing the dam above Ayagaures led to small houses with surrounding Garden of Eden plots. Hard work had created fruit and veg that anyone would be proud of. From there we climbed a clear path into a scattered pine forest looking out for elusive Blue Chaffinch as we went, no luck.

As height was gained we seemed to be heading for a pass, but we continued traversing above it into a more and more remote area with views back down to the coast. Some mountain bikers sped fearlessly downhill past us and low and behold that hill runner nonchalantly trotted by. Lost valleys appeared below. The original route has been closed due to a landslide and the volcanic rocks hereabouts looked friable. Lunch was taken before we reached the col at Manzanilla. I was so impressed by the feeling of spaciousness up here.

Two curiosities en route –

Giant dandelions, 3ft high, growing everywhere; you should see the size of the rabbits!

– and water on tap out of the rock.

So eventually over the top and onto an ancient looping track down to Tunte. We were chasing the 14.30 bus but on arrival at the stop found the timetable had changed, we didn’t fancy a three-hour wait for the next. The ploy is to go into a bar and ask for a taxi knowing full well there isn’t one, this usually finds an ‘hombre’ willing to do the job. The helpful lady in our bar of choice did just that and before long we were on the way again in an unlicensed car with a driver who would probably fail even the most lenient of alcohol tests.

                                                         Choose your driver.

We arrived safely and reflected on a yet another brilliant day’s walking in a beautiful and remote area of the Island.

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Ayagaures – Maspalomas.

Virtually within an hour of landing at Gran Canaria airport I was in the pool of our cheap bungalow complex at Maspalomas, with an air temperature of 25 degrees. It is January, we had  just spent 5 euros on a decent bottle of wine, nuts and olives, and are relaxing before a trip to one of the good fish restaurants for supper.  When John had asked me back in England just over a week ago if I fancied a return trip here I readily agreed – we had unfinished business.      https://bowlandclimber.com/2015/11/15/gr131-gran-canaria-change-of-plans/

The GR131 through this Island is not waymarked as such, the Cicerone walking guide gives a version of what may transpire. Their last section [N-S] follows a road all the way from Ayaguares to Maspalomas,18k, surely there must be a better alternative. This is where Barranco de los Vicentillos comes in, it looked an obvious route, but paths on the map were marked intermittently – there was only one way to find out. The taxi dropped us off in the virtually deserted village of Ayaguares at 9.15, the bar didn’t open till maybe 10, so we just set off walking. A winding lane took us steeply up and over the intervening ridge where we could look down into the Barranco, it did look inhospitable. However, paths led down to the dry river bed, and we then could follow the rough stony ‘trail’ through reedy vegetation. After heavy rain this would be impossible, but today we enjoyed blue skies and increasing temperatures.

John became preoccupied with plans to convert the stout reeds into trekking poles thus avoiding the hefty aircraft charges for hold luggage containing our own ‘weapons’. His schemes probably still need refining, so Ryanair needn’t worry about loss of revenues just yet. The Barranco was quite deep in parts with ‘Swiss Cheese’ volcanic rock on either side. A wide selection of plants and shrubs were encountered, the prickly pears were particularly vicious.  We only met one person down there, an awesomely fit hill runner preparing for an Island race later in the year. Eventually we emerged under the motorway into the outskirts of Maspalomas and a welcome coffee at a kiosk outside the health clinic. We had previously followed the tracks onwards down to Faro lighthouse at the coast, so we took a shortcut back to our bungalow.

For anybody following the GR131 I would highly recommend this route for the last stage to the coast.

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From Top to Bottom.

All good things come to an end. I was up all night with the most awful abdominal pain!  If I’d been at home would have gone to hospital – ?appendix ?kidney stone. Eased up after an interminable 7 hours and spent the rest of the day resting in bed feeling sorry for myself and disappointed about missing the walking in this fantastic weather. The hotel were very helpful, and we booked another night. John had a great day’s walking with a taxi back to Cruz de Tejeda. Saturday I was feeling better but didn’t dare set off into the wilderness. So we had a pleasant short walk down to the village of Tejeda, a lovely little spot where we dallied on a bar terrace overlooking the valley across to Artenara.

Roque Nublo above Tejeda.

Sleepy Tajeda.

Towards Artenara with Cueva de los Candiles high on the right cliff.

The bus didn’t leave from where we thought, so we had a bit of a rush down to the small bus station. I didn’t envy the driver’s task of negotiating the steep narrow hairpins over steep drops, he did hit the barrier on one hairy section! Two hours later we were in the busy holiday resort of Maspalomas, installed in our hotel apartment and enjoying a swim in the pool. Another world from where we had been. Our complex was massive but  surprisingly pleasant and clean. I didn’t really like the fitting of a wristband for our stay, shades of electronic tagging. Are they trying to stop us running away, not something I’m used to? We were given a map of the complexes, and it took us some time to locate our room, even worse when we tried to find the restaurant. We ended up on the streets outside and arrived back where we started, the areas all looked the same! Maybe tagging would be useful for finding lost, and hungry, guests.

Sunday was our last full day, John was not happy to go back up into the mountains where I could possibly take a turn for the worse [somebody has to have some sense]. So after a leisurely breakfast we walked through the no man’s land of apartments and shops to Meloneras beach where we had a swim and dried off in the sun before heading back to a little restaurant, La Esquinita del Mar, for lunch. Papas arrugadas con mojo sauces and then the local fresh Cherne [Wreck fish].

As an aside I noticed a quirky translation elsewhere of ‘papas arrugadas’  wrinkled potatoes. Mis hijos quedaron encantados con sus papas arrugadas – became – My children were delighted with their parents’ wrinkles.

Walking back past some exclusive looking hotels along the wide promenade ‘living statues’ were in evidence, some quite clever. At the lighthouse at Faro, a prominent landmark, it was 28 degrees and everyone was making use of the good weather sunbathing and swimming. One can see why Northern Europeans flock here in the winter. The southern tip of the Island is famous for its sand-dunes above the beach, and I was keen to see them, I wasn’t expecting all the other sights I saw. Some things are best kept hidden. I can’t really end with that photo so here’s another cheeky chap seen along the way …..

Gran Canarian Giant Lizard.

All being well we will be on a plane home tomorrow, I hear the weather back in Britain hasn’t been that good – can’t wait.

(as a postscript we were back in Gran Canaria a couple of months later to walk, this time successfully, from south to north. GR131 GRAN CANARIA – Barranco de los Vicentillos. | bowlandclimber

Artenara – Cruz de Tejeda.

Another leisurely start and another perfect day. we say goodbye to the lovely people at the cave. Breakfast at Bar Tamadaba was taken in the town square, tomate tostada and good coffee. Lanes led to the hills above with views once more to distant Mount Teide. On the ridge we came across a sign for Cueva de los Candiles describing it as one of the most important pre – Hispanic caves with hundreds of carved triangles possibly representing the female pubes, fertility symbols?  The approach to the cave was described as dangerous and precarious, so we were soon scrambling down the loose cliff face in search of the cave. After a few false descents we found a metal ladder taking us down to an exposed terrace leading to the cave in the rock face.  Disappointingly the entrance was barred, and it was difficult to make out the carvings but what a situation 400m above the valley.

The best ‘triangle’ I could see.

We had not seen much in the way of bird life in the hills, some Kestrels yesterday but up here we spotted a Barbary Falcon flying across the cliffs below us. Continuing along the ridge we found more caves [all barred] Cuevas Caballero which were worth exploring, this time without risking life and limb. There was an interesting carved face in the rock, but this was probably of a different date.

Back on the ridge we had a surprise view down to the capital Las Palmas.

The day was disappearing, and we hadn’t gone far, but good paths led us towards the col of Cruz de Tejeda where all the day trippers land up in the centre of the island. We had a beer on the terrace of the exclusive state run Parador hotel but couldn’t afford a swim in their heated pool. The view down the caldera is impressive, as is everywhere in these mountains. The sombre pilgrim cross overlooks the busy tourist cafés and stalls and our more modest hotel, El Refugio, was tucked away behind. There were pleasant gardens with a pool which looked inviting in the hot afternoon sun – but turned out to be freezing, about 15degrees [we are at 1500m], so we didn’t linger.

We were in a cheap attic dorm type room and suffered several head injuries as we moved about. The couple running the place were most charming and provided a good Canarian evening meal with honey/rum to finish. Recommended.

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Tamadaba – Artenara.

The morning was perfect, clear and sunny and already warm. We supped our tea gazing at the view from the cave across the caldera valley to Roque Nublo and Roque Bentayga as cocks, mules and goats awoke. The Acusa plateau to the west reminded me of Andean landscapes. The small Bar Diaz provided us with desayuno, tostada con tomate, although the coffee on the Island is rather strange. Our taxi man turned up at 10, and we were soon back in the trees of Tamadaba. We climbed up to the summit at 1444m for a view of Mount Teide on Tenerife.

Undulating paths led along the pine covered ridge. We passed a giant eggshell of larva which would have made the perfect bivvy. The path was well waymarked and was really only running parallel to the road with several well frequented view points. Soon we were overlooking Artenara and were drawn into the town square and the rather touristy Bar Tamadaba. So it was a mixed tapas and beer including the classic ‘patatas arrugadas’ with mojo sauces and fish croquettes. We took the opportunity to walk up to la Ermita de la Cuevita a church inside one of the many caves on the hillside. Up here we passed many inhabited caves with goats and chickens scattered about.

Dropping back down to our own cave as the sun was setting and a new influx of interesting people. A mother and daughter from England had come up on the bus and were adjusting to high altitude cave life.  We set off into the village hoping for supper and found the only place open was our Bar Diaz. Classic Canarian meal of mixed salad and dorada  [a type of sea bream] and chips. The local ‘Tropical’ beer was good as was the company. About 7euro per head. Bought some more wine and retired to the cave for another chilled out evening. The old hippy in me is resurfacing.

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Puerto de las Nieves – Tamadaba.

Aeroplane and bus had us onto the Island and into the busy capital Las Palmas, where Christopher Columbus stopped over [1492] as did we; and the next morning over to Puerto de las Nieves, a sleepy port on the north-west coast. Time over coffee to adjust to the sun and temperatures climbing into the high 20’s. The GR131 is not marked as such on Gran Canaria, but the route across the island is covered by a series of well signed and numbered paths. We picked up the S90 on the edge of town and started climbing.

The path was well contoured through the volcanic ash and soon typical Canarian plants were distracting us from our task. A new bulldozed track gave us easy walking, its purpose we found out was to access land where millions of trees were going to be planted. The workers put us on to our smaller continuing path up the rocky crest [a sign will be needed]. Steep slopes were crossed and a large party of 25 walkers met descending, there is a walking festival on the Island at present. At over 600m old terracing appeared and an ‘era’ threshing floor. I suppose this was the reason for our old path in the first place. Surrounded by cliffs and with good views down to the coast this was a good place for a rest and snack. Also, an opportunity to compare the carrying properties of our respective packs, my back was soaked in sweat from my basic Golite sack whilst John was dry using an updated airflow Osprey pack. Sometimes the quest for the lightest carry has its downfalls.

The stone paved path now climbed steeply to find a breach in the cliffs above and entered the forest of Canary Pines at 1000m.

Volcanic bomb.

This was a different world of shade and mist with silent needle covered paths, hanging lichens and giant heathers. The absence of any other walkers enhanced its spookiness. We hit the road where I had hoped the taxi would appear and sat and wondered if it would. There was no mobile reception.

Taxi!!!!!

This is not a particularly busy road, we only saw one other car, so when a taxi came round the bend we stopped it and jumped in. The driver’s replies to my stuttering Spanish had us worried whether we were in the right taxi – he didn’t seem to know my name or where we were staying, and his phone number was different from the one I had. The simplest solution was to keep quiet and get to our hostal in  Artenara. We arranged to see him in the morning for the journey back.

Our hostal was in fact a cave house, and a very good cave it was. Adam the ‘warden’ was from Hungary and the other guests from France and Belgium. The laissez faire [can’t translate that into Spanish] atmosphere was perfect for the situation – a cave with the most fantastic outlook and that black cat, Sombre.  [El Warung Cave Hostel]. We had no food with us so wandered into the village to eat only to find that due to some previous local festival every bar was closed. A shop provided us with pasta, beer and wine, and it was back up to the cave for a convivial evening. The stars were fantastic and the planets almost aligned. Should be good tomorrow.

PS. The taxi was the correct one.

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Cicerone Press.

A rather bleary eyed friend, John, opened his door last week – “we’ve just arrived back from Tenerife at 4am this morning!”

“Oh – so you won’t want to go walking in Gran Canaria starting this weekend? We might have to bivvy a few nights but the weather should be good”

“I’ll have a think about it”

We ‘outdoor types’ seem to live from one expedition to the next, there is never enough time for all the potential trips. I’d come across the GR131 on La Gomera last December and realised it’s potential for winter walking.  Cicerone, as ever, do guides. The trail links all the seven Canary Islands and I thoroughly enjoyed the Lanzarote section at the beginning of this year. My plan was to try and complete the other Islands this winter. Gran Canaria would easily fit into the week I had free.

A day later – “Yes I’ll come, what do we need?”

So I booked the flights, getting and paying for more than I expected from Thomas Cook. Taking trekking poles [a security risk] always means having to book expensive hold luggage, but somehow I bought unnecessary reserved seats and meals as well.

Planning went into overdrive and within a couple of days we had booked accommodation for every night to reduce the amount of gear needed. This did involve however the use of taxis for complicated transfer link-ups, and I wasn’t confident of my some of my telephone conversations in Spanish.

The Map Shop at Upton-on-Severn sent me a map by the next day, one of the superb Discovery Tour and Trail series.  I’d got my rucksack weight down to 6kg,  John’s was only a couple of Kilograms heavier, but he was much fitter than I having just completed the Cape Wrath Trail with camping gear. We were ready to go.

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