Spain, my favourite spots (1)

In no particular order I'm going to do a start a series of posts today on my ten favourite spots in Spain. My first pick is the island of La Gomera, actually some 700 miles from the Iberian Peninsula.

The highlight here is the central massif which rises to 1487m and is largely covered in ancient laurels − the very beautiful and Tolkienesque National Park of Garajonay, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

I've never been to Peru, but some of the landscapes in the central part of the island remind me of images I have seen of the Andean cordillera around Macchu Picchu, though on a smaller-scale of course.

The indigenous people of La Gomera, known as Gauches, had developed a form of speech based on high-pitched whistles which the Spanish colonists dubbed the Silbo and adopted themselves from the sixteenth century. (A bit like yodelling, but probably more irritating to dogs.) Although ideal for communicating across the island's steep barrancos it had begun to die out until the local government made learning it in school compulsory at the start of this century.

The capital is the picturesque little town of San Sebastián de la Gomera. V and I had a great evening here in Decemeber 2002 when we sneaked into a semi-private celebration with a live band in an open patio and danced the night away with a joyful, multi-generational Christmas convocation. I made some videos of this bash which I will treasure for life. (Sadly I only have videos, as my digital camera was broken at the time.) The locals are very friendly and speak with an accent that sounds more like Cuban Spanish than the lisped castellano of Toledo.

There's a famous old Parador up on the rock overlooking the harbour, but it was shut when we were there. Unlike nearby Tenerife, La Gomera has been comparatively untouched by mass tourism, though there are a few large three and four star hotels dotted around the coast catering mainly to the German middle classes (processed cheese, ballroom dancing etc.)

This was the last bit of old Spain that Colombus saw before completing his first crossing to the Caribbean, as he put into the harbour here in order to have La Pinta repaired.

We experienced some of the heaviest rainfall I have ever seen one night on the western Gran Rey coast. Part of the road running beside the rocky beach was washed away by a swollen stream and almost every groove on the peaks behind us had become a powerful waterfall cascading over the edge of the massif to the shore level many hundreds of feet below.

The boat-ride over from Tenerife afforded us a very memorable view of the top third of the Teide volcano emerging from a mist that had settled like a hoop around its ample skirts. (It is the third largest volcano on Earth.)