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Published: February 3rd 2010
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Things haven’t really improved locally so today we decide to take a walk to Playa Del Ingles in the hope that we may at least find something to smile about.
Like most places here it is quite a hike on foot, but the weather is once again a balmy (or should that be baking) 26 degrees and the sky is blue. I’ve not been particularly complementary over Gran Canaria so far and am pretty much wishing I had stayed at home, but I will admit to there being some things that are quite nice.
As I’ve mentioned, the paths around the holiday complexes and running along the main roads between Maspalomas and Playa Del Ingles are nice and smooth and ideal for running, biking or roller blading, they are nicely landscaped and the are kept very clean and tidy. All the rubbish bins have bin bags and there is virtually no litter on the streets. The plants are bright and colourful and the smell of the honey blossom is lovely.
As we walk up the hill towards Playa del Ingles there is a nice view over the whole Maspalomas area, but it really is just packed with back
to back hotels and apartment complexes with only the golf course to give a swathe of greenery.
We head for the Tourist Information which is situated next to the notorious Yumbo Centre the supposed centre of Playa del Ingles life which during the day houses shops and restaurants and at night transforms into a paradise of bars and clubs. We had both had a perception of how it may look but I don’t think either of us were prepared for the reality and we become incredibly depressed when it turns out to be a monolithically ugly concrete monstrosity reminiscent of the very worst inner city council estate. It is ugly in the extreme and a warren of depressing off red painted concrete, dark dingy passages, closed and derelict retail units, tourist tat shops, fast food restaurants and an ocean of closed bars with names such as the Glory Hole and the Prison Bar.
We stop in the main square, eat our sandwiches and try to imagine the place at night all lit up with neon and filled full of revellers, but decide that it would be an even more dreadful place then than it is now, a veritable
Hades on earth. Up to this point we had been considering bar jobs but the thought of working in such a place so depresses us that we vow never to return. As we leave I spot a plastic bottle rolling forlornly across the square in the wind and make Dee laugh by saying “look 20th century tumble weed”, it sums the place up perfectly.
We navigate the warren of hotels which is really all that Playa del Ingles seems to be - a never ending concrete jungle and head down to the beach hoping that at least this will prove some relief.
Unfortunately this proves not to be the case. As we round the corner of one of the high rise blocks we catch a glimpse of the sea above the promenade wall. It looks blue and enticing, however as we get close enough to see over the wall the view transposes to another vision of Hell.
Yes there is a beautiful mile long swathe of sand, but it is completely covered in sunbeds, parasols and heaving throngs of humanity. Directly behind the beach is another monolithic strip of depressing and ugly one story tacky neon lit
concrete given over to the worst tourist excess’s : Hooters Bar, Munich II, Macdonalds, the list goes on and on for as far as the eye can see. Behind this yet more concrete and asphalt of monstrous car parks ready for the hordes to stumble back into their vehicles and trundle back to their hotels which again line the hillside behind the car parks for as far as one can see. This may be some peoples idea of holiday heaven but it is our idea of purgatory in the extreme.
The promenade is nicely maintained and if it weren’t for the depressing view would make a nice place to walk but as it is all we want to do is escape, we trudge the many kilometres home once again wondering why we came and how so many people we spoke before we came can have described this place as a lovely place to holiday.
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