These have been, by far, our laziest holidays. All we have done is, as promised, swim in the hotel pool and sunbathe. The hotel was in the area known as "Playa del Inglés", which includes not only the beach but also the seaside town that has sprouted at its side. I think they called it like that because of the many British tourists that mill around.
We went to the beach on just one occasion, making use of the free bus we had at our disposal. When we arrived there, it was very hot and uncomfortable, and the sand was especially clingy. We couldn't afford a sunshade and a couple of deck chairs, as I had forgotten to take enough money with me, and there was no chance of using an ATM machine, as there was only one in the vicinity and it wasn't working. And, even if we had had the money, we didn't like it there: there was some kind of net that stretched from the first deck chairs to the last ones, blocking our view of the beach and sea (it had been erected to prevent the sunshades from flying away). So we took a taxi (we were lucky enough: the ride cost exactly what I had on me, 3 euros) and fled back to the hotel pool. In comparison, that was heaven to us...
Well, in fact, we got our share of adventure. One day we went on a four-wheel-drive trip, which proved to be more than we had bargained for. It was called "3x1", as part of the journey took place over asphalt, another part over dirt tracks and finally we would have a camel ride. When they told us about the trip, it sounded good, and not too harsh, so we bought it. I even asked the girl if there would be any problem, as my wife was pregnant; she answered that this kind of trip was a quite comfortable one... The day of the trip we were picked up at the hotel with a Santana Aníbal 4x4; as directed, we had got some protection for our heads (a couple of baseball caps) and applied sunscreen on our skin, as the day promised to be a hot one. And it was; even though it was quite early in the morning, we were baking in the sun as the guides explained the details of the tour. Thank God we finally set off and headed north.
First we drove through winding secondary roads; after passing a couple of small villages, the landscape changed and all that could be seen around you was rock. All of a sudden we came across a bar, which was standing there in the middle of nowhere. Time for coffee. The man in the bar used a moka pot, just like the ones people have at home, but it was the best cup of coffee in my holidays so far (I'm afraid I'm not yet used to Canarian coffee; at the bars they use expresso machines like everywhere else, but it tastes very different... Funny, I would say). I find it surprising how such an establishment can thrive in a place like that... well, in fact, I wouldn't say it thrived, but merely survived. The walls surrounding the bar were decorated with paintings which depicted the story of the island; they were perfect for the guides to give us a history lesson on Gran Canaria. We drove on, and then left the road for a dirt track. The tour guide told us, "Now that we're no longer on the road, you can stand up if you like". At the beginning it was OK, but then the nightmare started! (or the fun, if you want). 
We got very little of that smooth dirt track we'd been told about; soon after that, the terrain got rougher and rougher, and suddenly the track consisted exclusively of stones, big sharp ones. Of course we could stand up; there was no way we could do the trip sitting on our seats! So we started to bounce in the back of the car as it moved forward; I thought that this wouldn't last long, but I was wrong: we did that for hours! In fact it was real fun, but I didn't feel at ease as I watched how much bouncing my wife and my future child were getting... But it wasn't that bad after all; she ended up exhausted but amused. The landscapes were impressive, as we drove through pine forests and deep ravines... The drivers stopped frequently, in order to tell us interesting things about the place and its history. Around midday we left the dirt tracks and rode on asphalt again. It was bliss! We crossed Fataga and then San Bartolomé de Tirajana. Curiously enough, the seaside towns in the south of the island belong to the municipal district of the latter, even though the town is so far inland. Shortly after leaving San Bartolomé we reached the restaurant where we were to lunch. The food was great (it would have tasted good anyway: we were hungry!). We continued; it didn't take long to get to the place where the camels were (actually, they were dromedaries).
The ride was fun, and much smoother than the one with the 4x4... After that, not much more was left: we drove back to Playa del Inglés through more winding secondary roads, enduring cold weather on the way (it's true: when we were on a high altitude, the clouds surrounded us and it got chilly; of course, we didn't have any warm clothes). We were tired and our legs ached, but on the whole it had been a really enjoyable experience.
Time goes by too quickly when you're on a vacation. We both had got some suntan, and I had put on a couple of kilograms (the food at the buffet was surprisingly good, and I had to try everything; doing otherwise would have been a crime). Much to our dismay, we had to go...
The last good thing about the trip was the flight. We took off in the evening, but there was still plenty of daylight. Soon it grew dark; at dusk, the sun shone a bright red in the horizon, and the clouds looked beautiful and fluffy down below. But the real show was to start when the night fell and we were flying over Peninsular Spain. The clouds were sparse then, and I could see most of the land through the plane window. Then I saw the cities and towns. They shone like Christmas trees, with rows of luminous spots sparkling like diamond necklaces against the black background. I found it impressive; I also realized how much luminous energy is wasted. It was curious to see how close together the towns seemed to be,; they looked like houses, each with its own light and its group of people living inside... I don't know how to express it, but it was a wonderful feeling.
The landing was perfect, and thanks to the pilot we were 15 minutes early (I don't know what the hurry was, but he was proud to tell us he had managed it. I found it funny; after the landing, I really expected him to do a spin with the plane or something).
And that's all. Next year it'll be three of us for the holiday, but maybe the baby will still be too young for travelling. If that's not possible, we can always go to the beach, as we have it so handy... See you!
We went to the beach on just one occasion, making use of the free bus we had at our disposal. When we arrived there, it was very hot and uncomfortable, and the sand was especially clingy. We couldn't afford a sunshade and a couple of deck chairs, as I had forgotten to take enough money with me, and there was no chance of using an ATM machine, as there was only one in the vicinity and it wasn't working. And, even if we had had the money, we didn't like it there: there was some kind of net that stretched from the first deck chairs to the last ones, blocking our view of the beach and sea (it had been erected to prevent the sunshades from flying away). So we took a taxi (we were lucky enough: the ride cost exactly what I had on me, 3 euros) and fled back to the hotel pool. In comparison, that was heaven to us...Well, in fact, we got our share of adventure. One day we went on a four-wheel-drive trip, which proved to be more than we had bargained for. It was called "3x1", as part of the journey took place over asphalt, another part over dirt tracks and finally we would have a camel ride. When they told us about the trip, it sounded good, and not too harsh, so we bought it. I even asked the girl if there would be any problem, as my wife was pregnant; she answered that this kind of trip was a quite comfortable one... The day of the trip we were picked up at the hotel with a Santana Aníbal 4x4; as directed, we had got some protection for our heads (a couple of baseball caps) and applied sunscreen on our skin, as the day promised to be a hot one. And it was; even though it was quite early in the morning, we were baking in the sun as the guides explained the details of the tour. Thank God we finally set off and headed north.
First we drove through winding secondary roads; after passing a couple of small villages, the landscape changed and all that could be seen around you was rock. All of a sudden we came across a bar, which was standing there in the middle of nowhere. Time for coffee. The man in the bar used a moka pot, just like the ones people have at home, but it was the best cup of coffee in my holidays so far (I'm afraid I'm not yet used to Canarian coffee; at the bars they use expresso machines like everywhere else, but it tastes very different... Funny, I would say). I find it surprising how such an establishment can thrive in a place like that... well, in fact, I wouldn't say it thrived, but merely survived. The walls surrounding the bar were decorated with paintings which depicted the story of the island; they were perfect for the guides to give us a history lesson on Gran Canaria. We drove on, and then left the road for a dirt track. The tour guide told us, "Now that we're no longer on the road, you can stand up if you like". At the beginning it was OK, but then the nightmare started! (or the fun, if you want). 
We got very little of that smooth dirt track we'd been told about; soon after that, the terrain got rougher and rougher, and suddenly the track consisted exclusively of stones, big sharp ones. Of course we could stand up; there was no way we could do the trip sitting on our seats! So we started to bounce in the back of the car as it moved forward; I thought that this wouldn't last long, but I was wrong: we did that for hours! In fact it was real fun, but I didn't feel at ease as I watched how much bouncing my wife and my future child were getting... But it wasn't that bad after all; she ended up exhausted but amused. The landscapes were impressive, as we drove through pine forests and deep ravines... The drivers stopped frequently, in order to tell us interesting things about the place and its history. Around midday we left the dirt tracks and rode on asphalt again. It was bliss! We crossed Fataga and then San Bartolomé de Tirajana. Curiously enough, the seaside towns in the south of the island belong to the municipal district of the latter, even though the town is so far inland. Shortly after leaving San Bartolomé we reached the restaurant where we were to lunch. The food was great (it would have tasted good anyway: we were hungry!). We continued; it didn't take long to get to the place where the camels were (actually, they were dromedaries).
The ride was fun, and much smoother than the one with the 4x4... After that, not much more was left: we drove back to Playa del Inglés through more winding secondary roads, enduring cold weather on the way (it's true: when we were on a high altitude, the clouds surrounded us and it got chilly; of course, we didn't have any warm clothes). We were tired and our legs ached, but on the whole it had been a really enjoyable experience.
Time goes by too quickly when you're on a vacation. We both had got some suntan, and I had put on a couple of kilograms (the food at the buffet was surprisingly good, and I had to try everything; doing otherwise would have been a crime). Much to our dismay, we had to go...
The last good thing about the trip was the flight. We took off in the evening, but there was still plenty of daylight. Soon it grew dark; at dusk, the sun shone a bright red in the horizon, and the clouds looked beautiful and fluffy down below. But the real show was to start when the night fell and we were flying over Peninsular Spain. The clouds were sparse then, and I could see most of the land through the plane window. Then I saw the cities and towns. They shone like Christmas trees, with rows of luminous spots sparkling like diamond necklaces against the black background. I found it impressive; I also realized how much luminous energy is wasted. It was curious to see how close together the towns seemed to be,; they looked like houses, each with its own light and its group of people living inside... I don't know how to express it, but it was a wonderful feeling.The landing was perfect, and thanks to the pilot we were 15 minutes early (I don't know what the hurry was, but he was proud to tell us he had managed it. I found it funny; after the landing, I really expected him to do a spin with the plane or something).
And that's all. Next year it'll be three of us for the holiday, but maybe the baby will still be too young for travelling. If that's not possible, we can always go to the beach, as we have it so handy... See you!
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