The Road To Papagayo: A Quick Guide To Southern Lanzarote

 

Lanzarote shows off its distinct browness

It's Lanzagrotty! Hordes of uncouth, sunburnt tourists, herd from beach to tacky bar and back again. Second rate cocktail lounges vie for tourist dollars with Karaoke bars, bad restaurants and fast food outlets. Seedy hotels with their cockroach ridden rooms and algae infested swimming pools litter the seafront. During the day the resorts swelter under a miasma of heat and rotten seaweed whilst at night the air is tinged with the stench of sweat, cheap perfume and vomit. Ah yes, if you're a hormonal teenager with galloping acne who's out to get drunk fast, copulate with whatever member of the opposite sex hasn't started vomiting yet and then sleep off the excesses of the night on the beach then Lanzarote is the place for you. Except of course it's not. The idea of Lanzarote being a grotty little island full to bursting with the sort of people you'd move house to avoid being near is as far from the truth as a conspiracy theorist's rants about the moon landings.

Yes there are still some tacky areas, mainly in Playa Blanca, but on the whole Lanzarote has picked itself up from the sawdust strewn floor of mass tourism, dusted itself down, shuck two fingers in the air to teenage hormones and sauntered off toward the promised land of five star hotels, swanky marinas and fashion boutiques. Yep, Lanzarote has gone upmarket. 

So if it's not sun, sea, sex and dysentery infused burgers anymore, what can a visitor to the Island now expect? We stayed in the South and due to the short duration of our trip we were unable to venture any further so we will be concentrating on this part of the Island. Beside its year long sunshine and distinct lack of rainfall Lanzarote has one other all encompassing feature, it's brown. Really, really brown. In fact, if you got a minute, it's a dreary, dusty, sewage like brown that brings to mind what a post apocalyptic world might look like. In short it is bloody ugly. Which of course was one of the other reasons the island was called grotty in the first place. Still, even the most ugly of places have redeeming features and if you're the type of person who finds post apocalyptic landscapes somewhat attractive then these redeeming features of castles, museums, craft shops and wild west themed parks will be a bonus. If you're not the sort of person that finds barren, windswept vistas, remotely attractive and think castles, museums and Spanish men dressing up like cowboys a little dull then there is always the beaches. Lanzarote has one hundred of them and most are of the golden sand variety. 

 

Sunset in Puerto Marina Rubicon

The main resort in the South is Playa Blanca. A hot-potch of bars, shops and hotels that still hanker back to the Islands less salubrious past although things are definitely improving. Not far along the coast is the more upmarket Puerto Marina Rubicon. This is a glitzy little region that has fashion boutiques, high-class restaurants that overlook the expensive yachts in the marina and the rather nice Bar One, a sort of yacht owners come SCUBA divers drinking establishment situated right at the end of the Marina. Puerto Marina Rubicon plays hosts to Jason deCaires Taylor's Atlantic Museum workshop and the underwater museum itself is but a short boat trip away. The marina is also home to a large dive centre, located next to Bar One, which caters rather nicely for the needs of the average bubble blower. Then there are all the other sporty outlets and clubs that cater for sea anglers, kayakers, sailing enthusiasts and hikers. But since we are none of them let's get to the point, what is the snorkelling like?

Castille de Colarados where the walk to Papagayo starts

In the south of the island there are two places to dip your head beneath the waters. The first is the marine reserve around Papagayo Beach. Papagayo is situated in a national park and can be reached by foot or car. The drive is less than twenty minutes from the centre of Puerto Marina Rubicon but be aware that as you reach the outskirts of the national park the smooth road gives way to the sort of rock strewn dirt track that brings a smile to face of dodgy car hire salesmen everywhere. So make sure your car hire insurance covers tyres, windscreen and underside of the vehicle or you'll be facing a very unexpected and very expensive bill when you hand the car back. If you fancy walking to Papagayo, follow the promenade path that starts at Castille de Colorados. The path circumnavigates the Sandos Beach resort hotel to avoid a steep climb at the end of the beach (check out this site for specific directions) and depending on your fitness levels can take anything from 30 minutes to one and a half hours.

Papagayo Beach

Papagayo is the fourth beach along the coast and nestles between two headlands. Just before you reach Papagayo there is a small pebble beach located beneath the cafe on the hill. This tiny beach is a little difficult to reach - requiring some basic climbing - but if you do endeavour to reach it, you'll find the perfect, isolated location to launch your snorkelling adventure from. Further back along the coast path, before you reach the cafe, you'll find another small cove. This cove is much easier to reach and has pristine sand but be aware, due to its ease of access yet sense of isolation from the main beaches, this small sandy cove does attract the au naturel crowd. And let's be honest, there is nothing more disturbing for people who like to get their dangly bits out than a snorkeller popping up unexpectedly, and there is nothing more disturbing for a snorkeller than suddenly finding dangly bits, swinging to-and-fro in front of your mask. 

The pebble beach below the cafe

The marine life at Papagayo is large and varied and if you know where to look you can come across some interesting specimens. As a rule it is best to arrive early as marine life tends to disappear as the water warms and the hordes of tourists start frolicking and splashing about in the water. Also try to avoid the habit of less seasoned snorkellers and hang around looking at sandy bottoms (and no that's not an euphemism) and instead head into the rocks where the sea life is more abundant. If you do this, then along with the usual suspects such as mullet, bream, wrasse and damselfish, you'll also encounter lizard fish and blennies lurking among the rocky crags. Bright orange cardinal fish can be found sheltering beneath overhangs and starfish, wide-eyed flounders, urchins and sponges litter the sea floor. Head further from shore and you'll find squadrons of needlefish menacing silver bogue that cluster together in giant swirling balls for protection. If you're very lucky you might even catch a glimpse of a barracuda, stingray or turtle. 

 

Shoaling Bogue

A predatory needlefish

A Rough Tail Stingray sweeps along the sand

The second place is really for the more adventurous and consists of a secretive little pebble beach opposite the Castille de Colorados in Puerto Marina Rubicon itself. The beach is a short walk from the Atlantic Museum workshop and is reached by a tricky path that is not recommended for the less nimble. Once at the bottom you'll find a perfect rocky shoreline that is filled to the brim with marine life. A word of warning though, if you are leaving anything on the beach, make sure you leave it as far back against the cliff face as possible, as the tide here comes in far and fast. And don't think that just because the pebbles are dry the sea won't cover them at some point. The Lanzarote sun is hot and pebbles dry quickly but that doesn't mean they won't get wet again when you're in the water – we know, our backpacks got well and truly soaked.

The secret beach below Castille de Colorados

If you are thinking of visiting this part of Lanzarote, we recommend that you avoid Playa Blanca and stay in or around Puerto Marina Rubicon instead. The restaurants are better, the vibe is nicer and there are no tacky “ye olde Irish bars”. If eating out (and again that is not an euphemism) head for the blue painted Taverna located in the centre of the marina. Here you'll be served a great selection of tapas. The beef stew we tried was excellent as was the ubiquitous patatas bravas. Wash down all those olive oil soaked titbits with a pint of cold beer or do as the Spanish do and ask for a glass of tinto de verano. Basically red wine, soda and sparkling orange. A sort of poor man's sangria and yet incredibly moorish.

Once you've sated your appetite, head over to Bar One for a few more cold ones or perhaps a few large rums (they have a fairly large selection of rums) and while away the small hours by poking fun at those bubble blowers who paid good money to see lumps of sunken concrete in Jason deCaires Taylor's Atlantic Museum.

Okay it's very pink and empty but don't let that put you off visiting Bar One

If you are able to stay longer than a few days then we recommend that you try to visit the Timanfaya National Park, the Island of La Graciosa in the north, the capital Arrecife, the Laguna de Janubio, the famous Cactus Gardens and of course the César Manrique Foundation (if you don't know who César Manrique is then you really should find out, to help you out with this why not visit this website).

There really is so much to do in Lanzarote that one trip, even a long one, is not enough and we will definitely be heading back soon. As for the idea that this spectacular island, with it's picturesque white-washed buildings and superb snorkelling, is a nasty, grotty little hole. Well, that's as preposterous an idea as Jason deCaires Taylor suggesting that by sinking concrete statues in twenty feet of water he is highlighting the plight of refugees. Err.... right. That said we do have to mention once again that the scenery in Lanzarote is very rugged and very, very, very brown! So brown in fact, it will probably delight corduroy wearing geography teachers everywhere. But then what do you care, you're only here for the snorkelling.

 

Something slimy slides across the rocks

Underwater Museums: Art Installation, Environmental Project, Indictment Of Diving Tourism Or Something More Taxing?

Jason deCaires Taylor, a former theatre set designer, paparazzi photographer and diving instructor, has been very busy in the last few years sinking statues in various oceans and writing a book about it. Jason's underwater installations can be seen in Grenada, Cancun in Mexico, Nassau in the Bahamas and now a new installation has opened in Playa Blanca, Lanzarote and a lot of people have become very excited about this. Blogs, the diving press and the mainstream media have all dedicated a great many column inches to Jason's work. Artistic types with slicked grey hair, thin glasses and effeminate mannerisms have waxed lyrical about how Jason's works express everything from slavery and the plight of refugees to mankind's apathy towards global warming. Ecology minded types, on the other hand, have upped the lyrical waxing by pointing out that Jason's installations use marine friendly concrete and promote coral growth – in short Jason is creating artificial coral reefs and increasing marine biomass. Others, those with a more financially tuned mind, have seen the opportunity to boost tourism to their part of the world with the unique selling point of an underwater art exhibition. The new installation in Lanzarote is being hailed as Europe's first underwater Museum, which is a bit odd because Turkey apparently opened up Europe's first underwater museum last year. 

Anyway that argument aside the whole idea of underwater museums sounds very laudable doesn't it? After all, what's there to dislike? Jason deCaires Taylor gets to show off his works and presumably gets some cash or at least increases his book sales. Environmentalists get to showcase both the plight of coral reefs and the possible solution, locals get to benefit from another tourist attraction and divers get to fin about in a new and interesting environment. Everyone is a winner then. Well, we're not sure on that. In fact we're a little worried about the whole thing. 

 

So let's drill down a bit. Firstly we're not interested in whether Jason's works have artistic merit. Art, like beauty is very much in the eye of the beholder, if you think it's art then it is. Nor are we remotely bothered about Jason using his works to highlight world issues. Although we would point out that Jason would have to have an ego the size of Mount Everest if he thought that sinking a concrete raft full of concrete statutes, in 12 metres of sea water, in the middle of the Atlantic ocean would bring the plight of refugees to the attention of the masses more than say; the entire worlds media that's been collectively filming it, writing about it and photographing it on a daily basis. Jason is British by the way, so he can't possibly have that big an ego could he? 

What we are a little unsure about is this: the original reason for the creation of these museums was not really to create a new coral reef. Sink a ship, a car or even a pile of concrete blocks and eventually they will be colonised by marine life. No the real reason for these creations is to distract divers away from the natural coral reefs that were being destroyed. 

 

Take Cancun for instance, the divers and snorkellers visiting the reef near Isla Mujere were having an unfortunate impact on the ecosystem. Coral was being damaged, leaching sunscreen was apparently poisoning the wildlife (and we'll be dealing with that in another post) and the sheer volume of bubble blowers visiting the reef was stressing the whole environment. Divers and snorkellers, often the most ecologically aware of tourists, were quite literally wrecking the place by their presence. Something had to be done to give the natural reefs some relief. So locals, conservationists and some arty folk got together and created an artificial site by dropping some concrete balls into the water in the hope that divers would want to see these rather than the natural reef. It didn't work. A concrete ball is after all a concrete ball until it is colonised and local dive operators and visiting divers were not impressed. As Robert Diaz, President of the Cancun Nautical Association put it: ““We have to bring tourists here. There was nothing to see. There were no fish. Just big balls that are empty—just horrible.”

The Director of the Isla Mujeres National Park in Cancun, Jaime Gonzalez became frustrated and considered closing the reef all together but this wasn't feasible. The answer came when Gonzalez discovered some art installations in Grenada. What if you could have something that wasn't an underwater eyesore before it became colonised by algae and coral – how about some statues. Enter Jason deCaires Taylor and the Cancun underwater museum was born. In fact so successful was the project that some dive operators complained that marine colonisation of the ghostly statues was ruining the show. This lead to Gonzalez cleaning the algae off half the statues by hand using steel wool and leaving the other half to continue being colonised. On Grenada, where Jason's statues were installed for the same reason as in Cancun, tourism has boomed with roughly half of all divers having been diverted away from the natural reef. Early indications seem to show that the same is happening in Cancun. Other artists are now getting involved and there are talks of having ten-thousand statues on the site in Cancun within the next ten years. 

 

Worrying don't you think? No? Okay let's explain. Firstly, let's ignore the fact that some environmental purists are appalled and argue that dumping statues, cars or concrete blocks into the sea is exactly that, dumping. With all the potential issues of changing the diversity of marine life and behaviour.

We'll also ignore the fact that some scientists dispute that divers and snorkellers are the reason the reefs are being damaged. Instead they cite pollution from the resorts and rising sea temperatures as the real culprits. The resorts are now booming so pollution levels are likely to get worse not better. 

But as we said, we'll ignore all that. The problem we have is that these underwater museums are not cheap. In Cancun, it cost $12000 to create and install each statue and that cost needs to be recouped. Which means you are going to be charged to visit them. And how long will it be before someone hits on the idea of charging for visiting the natural reefs? And we're not talking about the tour operator costs of taking a boat out to see them. We're talking about an extra charge. A tax. And how long will it be before someone gets the bright idea that viewing the underwater world as a whole, not just the reefs and sunken statues is a chargeable activity? In which case Snorkellers and divers entering the water from the beach, rather than taking an operators boat, are likely to be seen as tax dodgers and thus someone will want to bring in a charge for just going in the water! And don't think we are being absurd here. When environmentalism, economics and Art come to together, rationality goes out the window or the porthole for that matter. 

After all what diver would rather view a set of concrete statues rather than a natural reef? What snorkeller would rather look down on a series of fuzzy grey heads than on a vibrant natural landscape? And what kind of tourist is so oblivious to world crises that they can only get their consciences pricked by viewing a sunken depiction of refugees from a glass bottom boat? In fact when we think about it, underwater museums are not worrying, they are depressing. Have we really got to the stage when divers, snorkellers and freedivers would rather visit a man-made underwater structure in Cancun that looks exactly the same as the man-made installation in Grenada or the Bahamas or even Lanzarote than the amazingly diverse, stunningly beautiful and for the moment, absolutely free structures of the natural underwater world? Because if we have, that really would be absurd. 

 

By the way, according to Jason's own website, freediving on the Cancun installations is not allowed without a life jacket! Now we're not sure how you can freedive with a flotation device around your neck but we'll leave you, the reader, to work out the reason behind that little rule. We have already organised a trip to Lanzarote later this year, so we'll probably be re-visiting the idea of underwater museums then.

More reading

Jason deCaires Taylor's website

Scientific American website

BBC News website

New York Times website

Huffington Post website

Smithsonian Magazine

PBS website

Last Word On Nothing blog

 

In Search Of Those Elusive Trumpetfish

“Very rare.” Hardly ever seen.” These are the general responses we got when we asked the La Palma locals about the Atlantic Trumpetfish.  Responses that were almost universally accompanied by shakes of the head, shoulder shrugs and more statements like: “if you get real lucky you might see one in the early morning” or “They can change colour you know, blend in, and in these waters you could swim right by one and never know.”

Now, we know that the Atlantic Trumpetfish do exist. We’ve seen images of them on television, we’ve seen photographs of them on the Web and we had heard that La Palma and the Canary Islands in general, were a good place to see these odd fish. Now however, we were beginning to think that the Atlantic Trumpetfish was something out of an episode of the X-files. A strange mythological creature that an overexcited Mulder believes exists, yet simply can’t find the evidence to prove it to a pouting, doubtful, Scully. Undaunted by the locals insistence that we were more likely to spot a U.F.O than a Trumpetfish, we began to formulate a plan to catch the camera shy critters on film.

Ok Mulder, it's a naked girl doing weird things with a trumpet! But how does that prove anything?

The Atlantic Trumpetfish is a cylindrical shaped fish that can grow up to a metre long. Closely related to pipefish and seahorses, it uses its long snout like a vacuum cleaner, easily sucking in its prey of small fish and invertebrates. Some Trumpetfish in South Africa and the Caribbean have been observed using shadow-stalking behaviour to hunt, using their narrow profile to hide behind larger browsing feeders like Parrotfish and Surgeonfish, surprising unsuspecting prey who drift too close to the benign browser. The Trumpetfish’s notorious shyness and ability to blend in with their environment would, of course, present a significant problem to our goal as would the locals honest assessment of the Islands waters. Sitting in the Atlantic, and battered by the strong trade wins the coastal waters of La Palma are often dark, rough and murky. So in grey, wind-lashed seas famous for strong currents, we would be trying to spot a thin, agile fish that can blend effortlessly into the background and has a reputation for being shyer than mating pandas. A bit of a tall order you’ll agree. We decided that the best chances of seeing these fish would be to enter the water in the very early hours of the morning or late in the evening when the waters were bereft of splashing swimmers and small fishing boats with their chuttering motors.

 

Chinese Trumpetfish

Our sad effort to capture an Atlantic Trumpetfish - the buggers are fast

Did we succeed in our quest? You bet we did. The rough waters hampered filming considerably, as did the poor visibility. This was further compounded by the Trumpetfish’s irritating habit of disappearing between the rocks. Still we’re pretty pleased with the result, particularly as we came across three Trumpetfish gathered together near the breakwaters of Los Cancajos beach – though only for a few seconds. Check out the film below for the results of our labours. Trumpetfish do exist Scully, they do, we filmed them!

La Palma Island. A Dangerous Snorkelling Club Quick Guide

Roque De Los Muchachos Observatory

La Palma Island is situated in the North West of the Canarian Archipelago.  La Palma and its neighbours, La Gomera and El Hierro, are referred to as the lesser known canaries due to the fact that they have managed to avoid the excesses of mass tourism that affected Tenerife, Gran Canaria and Lanzarote. One reason for this is that all three of these islands lack the fine glistening beaches of the more popular islands and the small number of actual tourists that visit each year, along with most of the locals, live in hope that such mainstream tourism never does reach the island’s volcanic shores.

Lacking mass tourist infrastructure, La Palma tends to attract the more adventurous visitor. In the summer months the island teems with walkers, hikers, snorkellers, freedivers and those of the scuba diving fraternity. During the off-season the island still attracts hikers and nature lovers but also large numbers of the more mature tourist head here looking for a little peace and quiet away from the noisy nightclubs, bar crawlers and the teenage sex and drugs crowd that plague the islands to the East. There are several tourist areas on the island but the main ones are around the area of Los Cancajos and the Capital, Santa Cruz Del La Palma. In all the main areas you’ll find a spattering of bars and restaurants and low-rise hotels. There are also two diving centres in Los Cancajos from where you can rent equipment and arrange boat trips to the major offshore diving areas.

In natural beauty terms, La Palma puts all the other islands of the Archipelago to shame. Rugged coastal regions with crashing waves, beaches of fine black volcanic sand, verdant forests, gushing waterfalls, mountain ranges and a lush subtropical climate, La Palma offers something for anyone with a little adventure in their spirit.

Los Cancajos beach

La Palma is also famous for two rather differing controversies. The first is all down to a certain raunchy pop singer, whilst the second concerns an all too familiar scientific warning of impending global disaster. Back in the 1980’s Madonna released her True Blue album, the sixth song of which was called La Isla Bonita. According to some, many of who seem to work at the La Palma tourist board, the song La Isla Bonita (the beautiful island in Spanish) refers to La Palma. Madonna is supposed to have stayed on the island at some time in the past – though this has never been confirmed. Others however are adamant that the song refers to the Island of San Pedro in Belize. Madonna is supposed to have dedicated the song to San Pedro for some reason that is never really explained. Interestingly Madonna has stated in Rolling Stone Magazine, that the San Pedro mentioned in the song is a fictional island and does not refer to either island and may in fact be a sign for the off ramp. This admission doesn’t seem to have had much effect though as both the locals of La Palma and the denizens of San Pedro still claim that the song refers to their respective island homes. The second controversy has all the makings of an episode of The Big Bang Theory where academic egos engage in a battle of hypotheses. The story goes that back in the 1990’s one group of scientific egos claimed that at some point in the future a large chunk of La Palma would collapse into the ocean creating a mega tsunami. A wall of water hundreds of metres tall would then spread out from the island, wreaking havoc on the African coast, devastating the eastern seaboard of the U.S. and washing all the dog crap off the streets of Paris. Yes, yes, we know. Nothing can be that strong that it can rid the streets of the French capital of all the accumulated dog mess, the aroma of which mixes with the stench of the River Seine to create that oh so romantic French atmosphere, and it wasn’t long before another bunch of scientific egos proved it as well. The second bunch of egos pointing out that the first bunch of egos were being egotistical and unscientific unlike them who were being humble and scientific – Leonard and Sheldon, eat your heart out.

Watching me watching you

The island is littered with little coves and beaches; some very difficult to get to, where the more adventurous snorkellers among you can sate your appetite for the underwater world. However the four best areas, in our opinion, are in Los Cancajos, Charco Verde and the beaches of Playa Del Hoyo and Playa La Martina. Given that La Palma is situated in the Atlantic all of the beaches are at times subject to strong waves, winds and currents that make conditions unsuitable for even the most experienced snorkeller. That said, of all the four sites we recommend, Los Cancajos is by far the safest.

Sandwiched between the airport and the capital, Santa Cruz Del La Palma, the beach of Los Cancajos is in fact a series of little interconnected beaches and coves rather than a single beach. Protected by an artificial breakwater, Los Cancajos boasts an array of underwater tunnels, reefs and rock walls that will delight freedivers as well as shallow pools and rock formations closer to the beach that attract enough marine life to interest the less experienced snorkellers. The more daring among you might prefer to try out the delights of Charco Verde. Located a short drive from Puerto Naos on the western side of the island, Charco Verde is a wide cove of fine volcanic sand with rocky headlands on either side. The water can be considerably rougher than at Los Cancajos and visibility is often compromised at the best of times. The beach is also subject to rip currents that make entering and exiting the water here particularly problematic. That said, Charco Verde has a great deal to offer including canyons, strange volcanic formations and large shoals of fish loitering beneath overhangs and in between the volcanic fissures. If you like your water even rougher and the feel of pebble rather than sand beneath your feet, then the beaches of Playa Del Hoyo and Playa La Martina might be for you. Both sites are located on the eastern side of the island and are a short drive south of the airport. The beaches are reached by a narrow dirt track that can play havoc with the underside of your rental car and it might be worth parking up on the main road and taking a stroll down to the beach. A word of warning here too, both of these beaches offer rough water snorkelling at its very best and are not for the feint-hearted, if you are inexperienced or unfit you will undoubtedly get into difficulty here and should stick to less demanding sites such as Los Cancajos or the man made (though rather boring) rock pools at Los Sauces in the north. For those of you who have the experience and physical fitness however, Playa Del Hoyo and Playa La Martina with their tunnels, caves, gulleys and rocky fissures will not disappoint. All four sites teem with fish. Charco Verde and Los Cancajos in particular are home to shoals of sardines, bream, trumpet fish, damselfish, parrotfish and a good many more. One final note; the water temperature in La Palma never gets above around 24 degrees even at the height of summer and can fall below 15 degrees in the winter months so a wetsuit is highly recommended.

One of the breakwaters at Los Cancajos

When not snorkelling, La Palma still has a lot to offer. A visit to the astrophysics observatory at Roque De Los Muchachos is not to be missed. The phenomenal clarity of the air in La Palma means that astronomers, physicists and other scientific folk flock to La Palma to make use of the plethora of telescopes that dot the mountain ridges. At certain times you can even take a guided tour of the installations. Once you’ve finished peering into the sky you can take a lung-challenging hike around the caldera of Taburiente or get lost in the national park with its waterfalls, forests and winding tracks. If you’re not exhausted by all that, you can take a trip to the volcano centre at San Antonio, learn about all things grapey at the Las Manchos wine museum or visit the salt flats at Fuencaliente and then there are lighthouses to see, shops to peruse in Santa Cruz, or you could book a day trip to one of the other islands in the Archipelago.

Observatory above the clouds

Once you have had your fill of sea, nature and culture it’s time to get your fill of food and beer. Here though things get a bit tricky. Although there are a great many restaurants and cafes to choose from, the majority are not exactly culinary Meccas. The best two restaurants we found were El Lagar and Thai Las Olas, both in the Los Cancajos area. El Lagar is located in a shopping arcade but don’t let that put you off. El Lagar is typically Canarian in décor and ambience, the service is attentive but discreet and although the menu is small this should be seen as a good thing. Restaurants that try to be all things to all men with menus the size of encyclopaedias tend to be jack-of-all-trades and masters of none which means your dinner is probably going to be rubbish. El Lagar keeps things simple but that simplicity is very well done indeed. Try the tapas plate for a varied taste of the islands culinary offerings, after that we recommend the pork tenderloin or one of the fresh fish dishes that are on offer.

Err,, That'll be cactus then!

For a change to the Spanish offerings head off to the Hotel Las Olas and its Thai restaurant. Having a Japanese member in the club and living in London (the capital city of the world with every national cuisine you can think of readily available) we consider ourselves to be experts in Asian cooking and normally the thought of visiting a Thai, Indian or Chinese restaurant in a tourist area of a small island would fill us with dread. Thai Las Olas however, was a pleasant surprise. There were exceptions though, the Chicken Pad Thai has tomato ketchup as sauce and the Thai curry was nowhere near spicy enough for our tastes. The beef salad though was as good as any we have tasted and the weeping tiger steak was spicy enough to do as its name suggests and bring a tear to the eye. The noodle dishes are particularly good and the spring rolls (something most Thai restaurants fall down on) were second to none. Once stuffed to bursting we went to look for a bar and here, like most Greek and Spanish islands, we were left very disappointed. There are places to sate the thirst but most are attached to restaurants and all seem to have no idea how to store, pour or serve beer. Still the beer was cold if not much else and we can handle this small disappointment as La Palma hits the mark on so many other things.

You can fly direct to La Palma all year round from Madrid and in the summer season flights are available from London, Berlin and other European cities. In the winter months there are flight connections via Tenerife. There are also ferry connections from Tenerife and Gran Canaria. A word of warning though, if you are flying British Airways or Iberia Express or combinations of the two, take note that both airlines are notorious for being late and for mislaying your luggage on route. Read about our own experience here.