Monday 20th February - The Passion Wagon

Today we pick up a car again. D presents himself at the office a few minutes before ten and is dealt with by a blonde youth who alternates between fluent Spanish and Ray Winstone cockerney while answering the phone. "Your not a local then?" chirps D. In immaculate RP he replies "My mother is from London." This time there is no reversing onto the roundabout. The exit from the crowded car park is almost as hairy.

The car this time is a four door, automatic Smart Car. For no obvious reason each of the front doors has a badge reading "Passion". We load up and set off westward along the GC 1 motorway. This ends just above Puerto de Mogan and we turn north, back through Mogan and then north west. Between 7 o'clock and 10 o'clock on the coast of Grand Canaria there is no coastal road. The main road zig zags and switchbacks through the mountains without any sea views. 

On the way we pass Los Azulejos de Veneguera, where there are startlingly coloured rock strata, apparently caused by varying chemical reactions in the volcanic rocks.  We continue towards Aldea de San Nicolas which gets a real slagging in Lonely Planet. They take exception to the presence of greenhouses but people need to make a living. 

The town itself is clearly not tourist orientated and the signs are all Espanol solo. We have a coffee and then adjourn to a bakery to get Sandwiches Mixto (Ham & Cheese). Nos Espanol just about gets us through and we sit in the park to enjoy them.

We then turn East into the mountains, climbing steeply on several hairpin staircases. We regularly pass three cyclists, who then whizz past every time we stop to take photos. It looks to have been quite dry in Gran Canaria recently.

Our objective is the town of Artenara, at 1270 metres the highest town in Gran Canaria, and home to lots of cave dwellings. The Mirador de Unamuno looks out over a volcanic caldera and apparently is irresistible for females of a certain age. Observation suggests that that age is between 25 and 90.

We walk on to the Cave House Museum. This is run by the town council and staffed by a real enthusiast who explains that the temperature within the caves never varies from 18°C winter or summer. Beat that Scottish Power. 

Most of the houses here were like that fifty years ago but for some reason people have wanted to add on kitchens, bathrooms and level snooker rooms. The town even manages respectable coffee and cake before we turn for home which involves climbing several hundred feet up into the clouds.

Our route home took us past the car park for the trail to Roque Nublo, too late for a hike, but too scenic to miss. From here it was largely downhill and we take in el supermercado.

.Tonight we learn a big lesson about plantains. If you want nice crisp patacones don't let the plantains ripen until they are yellow.  Damn! The beer of the day is a bit anonymous  in its hip, label free bottle. Putting the barcode on the crown cork is a stroke of genius. 

Alhambra Reserva 1925 claims to be an Amber Lager at 6.4% ABV. Doesn't taste too bad and the low profile marketing may be worthy of some kind of award. **** (Out of five)