Storm in the Canary Islands (page 3 of 7)

Hunger gnaws at us on the way down. How about lunch in Tejeda?



We pick a restaurant at the entrance of the town, far from the touristy area.

The steak turns out to be delicious, but the service is rather slow...

It’s already past two o’clock by the time we start a digestive stroll through Tejeda.

So digestive that we still have a little room to try the local specialty: almond pastries!

Unfortunately, the weather takes a turn—the gray replaces the blue above our heads.



The wind picks up too—Thérèse is getting closer!

We leave charming Tejeda and its breathtaking setting under the rain, hoping to find some sunshine in the next village, Artenara.

You’ve got to be motivated to walk around there—it’s freezing now!



We take refuge inside the fascinating ethnographic museum of Casa Cuevas.





It’s amazing how well these cave dwellings retain heat.

And keep cool during scorching summers.

After the visit, we’re not really up for braving the elements and head back home.

Lighting the fireplace and turning on the heaters—the daily routine of a Canarian winter trip...

This arch looks familiar to me 🤪

I think I’d seen photos of it, jotted it down somewhere... and then completely forgot about it once I was there. What a shame! 😕

As for the Bentayga Rock, it was on the plan, but like I mentioned, the detour would’ve added an hour of driving (over 35 km instead of the usual 7 km on the normal route), so we skipped it. Actually, we *almost* (seriously, *almost* 😏) could’ve walked there from Tejeda. But then again, it’s surprising you didn’t spot the giant *cesta* if you took the road from Roque Bentayga to Tejeda...

instead of the 7 km via the normal road

I think it’s this rock that caused the road closure. 🤪

it’s surprising you didn’t see the giant basket

I must’ve been nose-deep in my smartphone looking for a restaurant. 😊

that arch looks familiar

There are several in the area. I also spotted this one on Maps, but it would’ve been too much for the same day (plus it’s harder to access).

Over the next few days, that kind of hike wasn’t really doable anymore...😕

That rock is impressive 😮 It's surprising there weren't more injuries—or even fatalities.

As for the arch, I honestly can't remember which one it was. It was your photos that made me think of it again... a bit late!

I think they closed everything beforehand. They know the island's geology and the risk of landslides in case of heavy rain.

I also noticed several signs along some roads that said "Closed in case of rain."

We didn’t experience any closures (except one) in Gran Canaria, but we did in El Hierro...

The weather at high altitude is bad today.

As it will be for the next few days, too...

So what's going on around here?

I check the forecast sites in more detail and realize that the Atlantic from Morocco to the Azores is at the mercy of Thérèse’s violent whims—a storm that, unfortunately for both locals and tourists, is strengthening instead of moving on.

Thérèse will overstay her welcome for over a week across the archipelago, causing significant damage: landslides, rockfalls, floods.

Roads will be cut off, flights diverted.

Torrential rains will mainly hit the islands of La Palma, Tenerife, and Gran Canaria but won’t spare El Hierro either.

Lanzarote and Fuerteventura will be less affected but will still face Thérèse’s onslaught.

The worst isn’t expected right now, though—just a few raindrops, a mostly gray sky, and cool temperatures should disrupt today in the "lowlands."

No mountain hikes for now; we can say goodbye to Pico de las Nieves.

I suggest Barranco de Las Vacas as an alternative!

Does that work for you?

When the thrushes aren’t around, the blackbirds will do...

The walk hasn’t been developed by the authorities yet, and parking is pure chaos.

We find a spot on the roadside a few hundred meters from the access point and head down to the canyon.

The walls soon close in, giving the place a vibe reminiscent of Antelope Canyon.



Like its Navajo twin, the barranco is a victim of its own success.



The charm struggles to shine between the less-than-ideal lighting and the crowds.

And we were among the first to arrive!

There’ll be way more vehicles by the time we leave.

Besides, the canyon only stretches for about a hundred meters. It’s a bit on the small side...

We then drive to Agüimes, a small town on the east side of the island known for its well-preserved historic center.







It’s cute, but like Barranco de Las Vacas, it’s more tempting in photos than in reality.

The next walking spot, Barranco de Guayadeque, turns out to be much more interesting.

Both for its landscapes and its restaurants...

We pick Vega for lunch.

We won’t regret it!

The specialty here is meat.

Specifically, pork.



Not bad at all—this well-grilled *secreto ibérico*!

We take a short walk to digest, then explore the lower part of the valley.









Maybe we should’ve come straight here?

I don’t really regret not seeing the Barranco de las Vacas in the end 😉 On the other hand, we hesitated about carrying on to Guayadeque… we should’ve. Not my brightest move on that one .

Yeah, Barranco de las Vacas is exactly the kind of spot that gets hyped up on Instagram.🤪

The wind really blew hard last night—our terrace is dripping, and the thermometer’s stuck below 10°C.

A day not to let a cat outside!



Well, we’ll have to go out anyway...

How about heading to Las Palmas, the island’s capital?

First, we make a little detour to the Bandama Caldera.

A fine rain and wispy mist dampen the mood, but the hike down to the crater’s floor must be nice in good weather.



For our part, we only go as far as the viewpoint halfway up the slope.



The drizzle stops just as we catch sight of the island’s capital.

We can’t be the only ones who thought of coming here—cars are parked on the hard shoulder for a good kilometer before the historic center!

That’s where we end up parking too, since there’s no space in the parking lot we’d spotted.

We start our visit of Las Palmas with its cathedral.

The ticket includes entry to the tower overlooking Santa Ana Square.

The monument isn’t unforgettable, but it does have a certain charm with its palm-tree-shaped columns.





Next, we’re drawn to the Casa de Colón, a beautiful 16th-century house with an interesting exhibit on Christopher Columbus’s expeditions.



After lunch at one of the city’s many restaurants, we stroll down Triana’s shopping street.







I was expecting a less ordinary city center—I’m a little disappointed.

We’re getting back in the car to explore the seaside of Las Palmas.

The air has a chill to it, the sun is playing hide-and-seek with the clouds, rain shows up every hour, and swimmers are few and far between...







We head back to our place to repack our bags.

Tomorrow, we’re leaving our mountain village for La Aldea de San Nicolás, a small town on the western side of the island.

Some folks are gonna be happy because at least you take photos when it rains 😏!

That said, the weather—even without Thérèse—wasn’t exactly great either 🏴‍☠️

There are trips where if you don’t take photos in the rain, you almost never do! 😏 (Iceland, for example...)

Thérèse was already around during my first week, but at first, she was pretty quiet. She started getting violent during my last night at Cueva Grande.

Some folks are gonna be happy because at least you take photos when it rains 😏!

That said, the weather—even without Thérèse—wasn’t exactly great either 🏴‍☠️

Yeah, Muriel, for landscape photos, you need some drama in the sky so it doesn’t look like a "postcard" shot. I went to Iceland twice with a pro photographer friend... the second time, for two days, the sky was blue—he was so disappointed 😞

Here are some photos from Scotland where you’re pretty much guaranteed bad weather for your shots: https://www.antoniogaudenciophoto.com/Voyages-et-lumi%C3%A8res-%C3%A9cosse

Absolutely, the volcanic landscapes are stunning—I personally love them. Feels like the end of the world! 😄

A stormy sky is indeed magnificent, just like a distant shower. 😛

Beautiful cumulus clouds too!

The problem is when the rain shows up like a downpour...

Barely is the camera out before it becomes unusable, the lens looking like a windshield without wipers...

That’s when the smartphone saves the day.

Well, gray or overcast days still rarely produce good results...

I like to include some realistic photos in my travel journal. It helps put the Instagram effect of some places into perspective.

A bright blue sky—one that really pops—is great too! Especially with white or bold colors. Anyway, I think so. [;]

I was expecting a less ordinary city center, I'm a little disappointed.

As I wrote in Muriel’s travel journal, I really liked Las Palmas (we’re repeating ourselves a lot lately ) I especially loved the atmosphere—that slightly old-fashioned, even outdated vibe (cheesy shops, bars from another era), but still lively, typical of some big, old Spanish cities. All the terraces were packed, with people enjoying tapas, vino blanco, and sangria in a great atmosphere... Once again, it’s always nicer in the sunshine with 25°C.

I found La Laguna in Tenerife way nicer.

Las Palmas de Gran Canaria is one of Spain's 10 most populated metropolitan areas. Yet, its historic center is really small, and the rest of the city seemed chaotically built to me.

If the weather had been nice, I definitely would’ve enjoyed lunch on a terrace watching people go by. 🙂

What a wild night! Strong gusts, relentless rain—the sky felt like it was falling on our heads.

The shortest route to our first stop takes us through the mountains, so we take it in the rain.

When we reach the forest, the pavement turns into a carpet of pine needles and branches.

We’re lucky—no trees have fallen yet!

A bit stunned by the grim scene, we cautiously continue toward Agaete.

Suddenly, the sky clears to blue.

Just a few kilometers from the damage, everything here seems so peaceful.



We now pass through Agaete to take the small road winding through the valley of the same name.

The place is truly enchanting, with these immaculate white hamlets contrasting against the green hills.



Coffee plantations have settled in this tropical paradise, and some can be visited.

An old thermal establishment, the Hotel Princesa Guayarmina—a ruin in the process of being restored—marks the end of the "main" road.

From here, there’s only a narrow path winding like a dead end toward El Sao.

I love this kind of road trip as long as we don’t run into anyone...





The parking lot at El Sao is tiny, but travelers are warmly welcomed.

That said, over-tourism isn’t without its downsides—rising prices and all sorts of nuisances...



After all, who sold land to developers, who turned their family home into an Airbnb, if not some of the locals...

We walk a little on the steep trail leading to El Hornillo.

Just enough time to climb a bit higher and enjoy this breathtaking panorama.



We would’ve loved to extend the hike, but time is short.

So we head back down on foot, then by car, to Agaete.

The village is completely asleep despite preparations for a festival.

If you’re looking for peace and quiet, you should find it here.

The nearby seaside resort of Puerto de Las Nieves is livelier.









We find a spot on a terrace (sheltered from the wind...) for a really pleasant lunch.



The ocean is raging, local authorities have blocked access to some viewpoints and seaside walks.





This isn’t the place where we’ll be swimming just yet...

The legendary GC 200 road that runs along the east coast of the island starts just outside the city.

Today, it’s often replaced by a series of tunnels, which are much more efficient for speed and safety but far less ideal for taking in the scenery...







The old route has fallen victim to landslides, and no repairs seem to be on the agenda.

The sections that were spared are normally open but not during stormy weather.

Access to the various viewpoints is therefore closed.

At least to vehicles...

Like other travelers, we park our car near the barrier and walk to the Mirador del Balcón—a 5-kilometer round-trip hike.



Since the afternoon is well underway, the other hikers are already on their way back.

So we get to enjoy this beautiful viewpoint all to ourselves.







The rain starts pouring down on us, and we just make it back to the Ford in time to avoid getting soaked.





One last stop at La Aldea beach, and we take shelter from the bad weather in our hotel room.



A quick note on prices:

I found that they’ve really gone up compared to our last trips.

Not so much for meals, and even less for car rentals—which had already skyrocketed right after COVID—but for accommodations.

The hotel room, for example, cost 141 € with a mediocre breakfast included, even though it was pretty ordinary and located in a not-so-touristy area.

A few years earlier, I’d paid almost half that for a charming room in Tenerife...

A break in the clouds arrives just in time for dinner.

The town doesn’t offer much choice. We end up in an Italian-Spanish restaurant.

After a pizza and a steak, it’s time to wait for the sandman to pass by...