A one-week trip from the northern tip of Lanzarote to the capital of Fuerteventura, along the beautiful, rugged eastern coastline.
Lanzarote and Fuerteventura, the two most eastern islands of the Canaries,are situated only about 120 kilometers off the African coast, off Southern Marocco. Due to the location and the pleasant temperatures all year round, it is a perfect if demanding sea kayak destination.
After having had to abort our paddling trip in the Danish South Sea theprevious winter because of storms and snowdrifts, we had chosen adestination in warmer climes this year. Internet searches revealed that the Canaries were perfect if demanding. It hadn't been easy to find an airline that was willing to carry our 5-and-a-half-meter kayaks. Then, we learned that suitable planes only land at Lanzarote and Fuerteventura. This information, combined with the fact that the wind blows from the north in February, settled it: we were going to paddle from the northern tip of Lanzarote to Fuertaventura's Puerto de Rosario. Well, that, at least, was the theory:
In practice, we discover that the baggage-check-in at Düsseldorf airport isn't geared to dealing with such bulky baggage. So we end up dragging the boats up and down the terminals several times until a way is found to weigh them and check them in.
While still in Germany, we had booked a taxi with a roof rack. Although the plane is almost 40 minutes late, Jesus is still waiting by the entrance with his old Mercedes estate car. After a quick stop-off to pick up petrol for our stove and some drinking water, we arrive at the little harbour of Orzola as early as 15.00 p.m.
At the harbour, we spread our baggage out on the boat ramp, put it in order and stow everything in the hatches of the two boats. The Atlantic greets us with a 1.50-meter high breaker directly at the entrance of the harbour, but we manage to get through unharmed.
It is incredible, at 10.00 a.m., we still stood in rainy Düsseldorf airport, and only 7 hours later, we are rounding Punta Fariones' off-shore rocks at the northern tip of Lanzarote with a light tailwind at our backs. We spend another hour paddling past Caleta del Sebo, and reach a sheltered beach at the south end of La Graciosa, below the peak of Montana Amarilla volcano. There, in the twilight, we put up our tent right by the sandy beach.
First thing in the morning, we climb Montana Amarilla. From the top, you get a good view all the way to the northern tip of La Graciosa, with its few beaches and bad landing conditions.
The steep rocks of the islands of Montana Clara and Roque del Infierno are visible in the distance. Even though the weather report forecasts a strong wind from the south, we decide to first round La Graciosa today, and to then carry on along Lanzarote's eastern coast towards the south. The swell is 2 to 3 meters high, and we have to keep a distance of a few hundred meters from the coast, if we don't want to get thown against the rocks by the surf.
Without stopping, we head back to Lanzarote and ride past Orzola towards the south. This is where the Malpais de la Corona begins. During a volcanic eruption, the flow of the lava reached widths of several kilometers and pushed its way into the sea. As a result, the coast is rugged and craggy and full of sharp-edged rocks. For a long time, we search for a place to land. Finally, we find a little bay that is sheltered by an off-shore reef. Nevertheless, we are still swept several meters across the sharp-edged lava rocks by the waves. Luckily, our PE-boats are nearly indestructible.
The next day, we continue our tour. The conditions are still good, but the weather forecast announces that this is the last quiet day before the storm. There are plenty of impressive lava formations along this stretch, but few spots for landing.
The 30-kilometer stretch after Costa Tequise is a tourist resort, so we seek shelter from the slowly growing wind in the bay of Enseneda de la Gorrina and set up camp
We make ourselves comfortable among the lava rocks and prepare for a longer stay. The boats we put in a place where they will be safe from the floods. Then, we stock up on drinking water in nearby Costa Tequise and gape at the grandiose buildings of the tourist resort.
Since the wind has calmed down during the night, the glorious sunrise raises our hopes. But as soon as the great fireball has risen from the ocean, the wind gets up and churns up the sea. We look at the white-crested waves and know : this is a good day for hiking.
First, we scale the volcano Montana Corona. From its peak, at an altitude of 229 meters, you are probably treated to magnificent views across the whole of Lanzarote in clear weather. Alas, we are buffeted by the misty storm and 70-kilometer winds.
We follow a dried-out riverbed that is deeply embedded in the lava and forms countless little caves. In this damp depression, we come across the only small trees that haven't been planted by humans. Due to a lack of rain, agriculture is dependent on artificial irrigation.
Having walked for some hours, we arrive in Villa Tequise, Lanzarote's oldest town. The clean squares and beautifully restored buildings illustrate that tourism has brought a certain prosperity.
Above Villa Tequise, on the rim of the defunct Guanapay Volcano, stands an old castle. The museum inside is dedicated to the emigrants who left the Canary Islands during the past centuries to try their luck in America.
After this tiring hike, we find a nice bar in town and enjoy a beer in the setting sun.
By the following day, the wind has calmed down a little, so we try to at least make it to Arrecife airport through 3-meter high waves and a headwind of 5 Beaufort. After about an hour, we reach the port entrance of Costa Tequise and decide to land there. Because of the strong surf and the uncertain landing conditions, we feel it would be too dangerous to go on. Our schedule is very tight, and we are therefore already forced to move on to Plan B. We take a taxi south, past the tourist resorts that don't interest us anyway. We mean to continue our trip from the Parrot Beaches. You can only get to the beaches via a piste, so the driver drops us at the harbour of Playa Blanco. Our original plan was to paddle from there to the Playas Papageijos, but it is scuppered by the harbour master, who has closed the harbour and won't allow us to leave from there. We can see that the harbour mole is being engulfed by foam and spray, and even the ferry service to Fuerteventura had stopped operating the day before. In other words: "It's a wee bit windy today".
We pay a small fee to stow our boats and baggage at the sailing school in the harbour, and set off on foot for the beaches in the east. Here, we realize that the beaches are full of sharp-edged rock formations. We don't fancy being thrown onto them by the surf, so we are glad that we are able to look for a suitable landing spot at our leisure. This knowledge will come in handy when we fetch our boats the next day.
This is a view of the southernmost beach. Unfortunately, its off-shore rocks render a landing undesirable here.
The next morning, the conditions seem fairly good. The harbour mole, however, is still being pounded by almost 3-meter high waves. A pleasure boat slowly crosses these choppy waters at a right angle to the waves, and starts to roll alarmingly, severely testing the stomachs of its passengers.
Landing is a challenge: firstly, we have to find the right stretch of beach without rocks and, secondly, we have to catch the right wave.
Because we can't see the beach from our waiting position outside the surf zone, and the wave only builds up directly in front of the beach, we need luck on our side when we choose our moment.
We manage to hit the right spot, the just 15-meter wide, rock-free stretch of the Playa del Pozo. Now we must quickly jump out of the boats, otherwise the receding waves will pull us back into the surf. These beaches are patrolled regularly, therefore, we wait until dark before we put up our tent.
The weather forecast declares that the south winds are dying down, so we get ready for the southward crossing to Fuerteventura. We leave at sunrise, in order to make full use of the quiet morning hours.
Ninety minutes later, we reach Isla de Lobos, which means that the open water is already behind us. The south wind slowly picks up again, and white foam crowns the waves.
We arrive at the sandy beaches of El Sable, a vast desert landscape. Moisture, driven by the wind, rises up at the mountains in the south and forms dark clouds. Every few minutes, squalls of heavy rain pass over the beach. After an hour's break, we set off again.
West of the abandoned ruins of El Fuerte, on the Playa del Chinorro, we find a stony beach for our camp. The Barranco del Cabadero, which is dried-out most of the time, has been transformed into a muddy stream by the rain, and has turned large areas of the beach into a brown soup.
A few meters above the beach, we locate a dry spot for our tent. It is normally used as a turning area for vehicles. A little further on, we meet one of the inhabitants of a poor encampment made up of shacks. Not everyone on this island has benefitted from tourism.
Early the next morning, we're back in our boats again and, at midday, we reach the large port of Puerto del Rosario. You can already hear the generators of the electric power station from far away. We ride on southwards. We're trying to get as close to the airport as we can, as we're hoping to walk there later.
We spot a wide sandy beach at the Playa Blanca and, with heavy hearts, we choose to end our paddling trip here. However, when we take a look around, we realize that camping isn't really possible here, as the beach is too close to the road. Walking to the airport isn't feasible, either, as we'd have to haul our boats down a four-lane motorway.
Finally, we take a room in a hotel and enjoy our last afternoon, drinking home-made cappuccinos on the shady balcony. The fuel has to be used up anyway, and the tiles can surely cope with the heat from the stove.
Our boats are put in a shady place, too, where we can get them ready for the flight. (We take off the steering system and protect the bow and stern with bubble wrap and tape.) Then, after having booked another taxi with a roof rack for the next day, we spend our last evening relaxing on the beach in the glow of the setting sun.
So here we are, back at the airport again after just one week, and keeping our fingers crossed that the airline will bring our boats safely back to Germany, when we are told that our Airbus 360 has been cancelled and is being replaced by two smaller Airbuses 320. We're just relieved that this is happening on the return flight. For we're convinced that the boats won't fit into the hold. After takeoff, however, one of the stewards comes over and reassures us: "Everything is on board"
Back in Germany, we're both amazed, and agree: "We can't believe that we'veonly been away for a week. We've had so many impressions and experiences,it felt much longer.".