Finally: It's a little more like mainland Spain

Europe » Spain
January 4th 2008

Published: September 30th 2017

Along with the requisite cortado (which happened to be extra good today - it tasted like coffee candy), I had a sandwich with ham, cheese, and a fried egg. Kind of like a Spanish Egg McMuffin!

Geo: 28.4698, -16.2549

I had trouble sleeping last night. I heard B&H leaving for the airport at 2:30 AM, popped my head out the door, and waved goodbye. I left some chocolate hanging on their door with a note saying "You'll need this more than I will!" in Spanish. I suspect they might have missed it on their way out.

I managed to sleep for a bit before having to wake up for the bus to Agaete, from where I can catch the ferry to Tenerife. I heard a strange re-mix of Coldplay's "Clocks" this morning. Interesting - the bathroom in the room (which was coincidentally, a free upgrade I scored) had no door, meaning that you could watch music videos while doing your business on the throne. It definitely made the time pass quickly!

I had some time before the bus so I grabbed a quick breakfast at "Katalina". As I ate, I planned the day's activities and reminisced about the past few weeks of travel. I realized that I need to stop traveling with people - I never used to get lonely when traveling solo!

I took the faster ferry to Santa Cruz in Tenerife, which should

On the bus ride to Agaete - it was a stormy day, with huge waves breaking on the rocky shore. It reminded me of a passage from Sartre's "Nausea" that I read on a long train ride from Naples to Sicily (see Euro 2006 blog entitled "Nauseated after Naples"). It was quite the sight; the ocean was churned into a bubbling cauldron of froth.

take 2 hours, including a 1 hr bus ride to Agaete. A ferry from Las Palmas to Santa Cruz takes 3.5 hours, for comparison. However, the fast ferry costs 46 Euros while the slow one costs only 26 Euros - but saving 20 Euros wasn't enough incentive for me to wake up for the 7 AM slow ferry.

We arrived at the port, but the ferry was nowhere in sight. It was over an hour late in arriving, probably a result of the stormy weather. Poor organization at the port - no one told us anything about the reason for the delay. It was a good thing there was a covered waiting area (though there were no walls to speak of) because it was raining and pretty cold. Shorts and sandals were not the appropriate attire for today.

I did some journal writing while waiting. A huge fly landed on me and I was freaked for a second because I thought a giant cockroach was coming after me. I decided that I might change my plans for Tenerife after the whole sub-par experience we had in Maspalomas and Playa del Ingles.

Originally, I planned for 2 days in

These splits in my big toes get worse and worse with each trip. Eventually, the tip of my toe is going to snap off.

Los Cristianos and Playa de Las Americas, resorts that are very similar to Maspalomas. It'll be way too much time for that kind of tackiness ... but I've got some time to figure out what the new plan will be.

Finally, I boarded the ferry - the weather improved vastly once we moved away from Gran Canaria. It was a pretty rough ride at first but quickly smoothed out. On the ferry, I had one of those "It's great to be traveling" moments that I frequently have. It's hard to describe; it's a kind of euphoric feeling. I like to think it's the sheer freedom and joy of wandering the world, but it could potentially have been the result of the bite of a giant mutant Canarian cockroach.

I arrived in Santa Cruz, the capital of Tenerife - the women!!! Definitely better than Las Palmas and more like mainland Spain. For some strange reason, I think I'm going to like it here ... It was a tough uphill walk to the pension but the lovely "scenery" made the walk bearable.

The pension was a simple, but adequate accommodation. The single room I originally booked was a little dumpy, so I

A gelato shop named "4D" - it all makes sense now! We were always taught that there were three dimensions - X, Y, and Z, with the fourth being the variable of time. But the truth is clear now - the fourth dimension is actually gelato!!! This could revolutionize the study of quantum physics. Somebody find Stephen Hawking and give him a gelato!

upgraded to a double, which was much nicer. The small optimistic side of me thought that it was convenient because it was right at the entrance to the pension, but the big pessimistic side of me thought that I would be the first guest to be hacked to pieces if a psychotic murderer broke into the place.

First stop - Plaza Weyler - I expected much more from the guidebook's description, but it was nothing special. Down Castillo and Clavijo y Viera streets, a pedestrian zone full of shops and cafes. It's a nice walking area with even nicer Spanish women. Ahhh ... this is the Spain I have come to know and love ...

It was coming up on 3 PM - I was feeling quite peckish as I hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast. I originally wanted to have lunch at the market, but it was closed by the time I left the pension. I needed a gelato.

I walked down to the waterfront and towards the auditorium, and over to Parque Cesar Manrique. There was an open-air McDonald's - I eat at McDonald's back home perhaps twice a year, so I really try to avoid

A little passionfruit gelato was a good pick-me-up; it had a rather brilliant tartness to it.

places like that while traveling. But I was desperate for food - 4:15 and I still hadn't eaten lunch yet.

I sat and ate while overlooking the beach and the park - nice! But of course, it started to drizzle as soon as I sat down to eat. I thought to myself "Please, just stay dry until I finish eating." To my surprise, it stopped drizzling and only started again once I finished my meal. I then thought to myself "Please, please - let there be a beautiful Spanish senorita in my room when I go back to the pension tonight." No such luck!

Back to the city centre - the art gallery I wanted to check out was closed for siesta. I intended to return later that night, but never got around to it. There's a nice theater in town; I also wanted to check it out but unfortunately for me, it was closed for a private function.

So ... it was cortado time! It was served with a nice pre-packaged cinnamon biscuit. After, I popped over to the Iglesia San Francisco - it was quite dark and claustrophobic inside, but was still just another church.

Why would I shop at Zara, when we have one in Calgary? Because the Zara shops back home lack two important things that the Spanish shops have - Spanish hottie workers, and Spanish hottie shoppers. I actually don't even go to the men's section in the Spanish Zara shops - I just wander around the women's section, leering at the women!

Plaza Principe Asturias - another arts & crafts market in the Canaries, but this time with a techno soundtrack blaring. Kind of cool with the techno, actually. I didn't see anything for sale that was worthy of a closer look, but did see a salesgirl that definitely warranted a closer inspection. But unfortunately, some other dude had the same thought and monopolized her time, so I decided to head off to the Museum of Belle Arts instead.

There was an exhibit by Cristina Lamet - she specializes in artistic fabrics, weaving, and tapestries. It was semi-interesting. There was supposed to be a single Rodin sculpture in the building, but I couldn't find it. The museum had a cool little spot for piano recitals - kind of reminded me of a recital I attended in Valldemossa, Mallorca. Overall, the museum was kind of blah.

Back to the pedestrian shopping streets. I spent 30 minutes in Bennetton trying on various pairs of jeans - I finally found one that I liked and that was on sale for a killer price, but it was damaged. It was the only pair left in my size so the 30 minutes was a complete

The last time I went into this store was in Ghent, Belgium last April. That time, I bought a really nice collared shirt but sadly, I shrunk it. I haven't really worn it since, because it shows off my hairy midriff, and the police asked me never to wear that shirt in public again.

waste of time. As Mary would say - "Why?" Those 30 minutes could have been spent girl watching! Ahhh ... Spain ...

Back to the pension to change into some jeans. I grabbed some kick-ass gelato at Romana - they serve their gelato Italian-style, meaning that you can get 3 flavours in even their smallest size. The coconut and banana were excellent; the mango was so-so. It was the best gelato of the trip, though that doesn't say much.

It was now kebab time - the place was incredibly busy; I waited over 30 minutes for a take-out kebab. The chef was slammed, but he was a machine - kebabs and wraps were flying out the door at breakneck speed.. The kebab was worth the wait - the chicken was sprinkled with a great-tasting seasoning.

I walked back through the pedestrian zone - the Spanish hotties were out in full-force. Off to Parque Garcia Sanabria - it was pretty dead. It's got a number of open-air cafes along its perimeter that supposedly make for a very lively atmosphere during the day, but apparently not at night. It was still fairly early by the mainland's standard - that's something

The auditorium in the background, with another Manrique-designed sculpture in the foreground.

that is lacking in the Canaries. On the peninsula, an area like this would be hopping until the wee hours of the morning.

The park itself was beautifully landscaped - it was more of a botanical garden, complete with stunning fountains and lovely sculptures. It's too bad it was too dark to fully enjoy; I'd like to come back during the daytime, but I doubt I will have the chance given my tight schedule.

It was a nice walk on a pretty hot night. Actually, maybe it wasn't that hot - it was one of those nights where my body temperature was a little high, and I simply couldn't cool myself down. I should've had more gelato.

My feet were killing me - though the morning was pretty slack with the bus and ferry rides, I hadn't stopped walking since arriving in Santa Cruz at 2 PM. I got to chatting briefly with a local - apparently, the Canary Islands is the lowest level of vacation that many Brits take. Those with a little more to spend will to go the peninsula instead. Maybe that explains some of the tackiness I've witnessed.

I did just enough

Parque Cesar Manrique - another perfect bachelor pad!

walking to get back to the pension, did some journal writing, listened to some music, and then passed out. It was a long and tiring day - just the way I like it when I travel.

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