The Canaries

My first impression of the island of Fuerteventura is that it is like a planet from Star Wars. It’s almost like a big barren gravel pit, dotted with the odd building. My home base is the sleepy town of Puerto del Rosario, which has black lava rock beaches and a couple of white sand spots.


I quickly got the hang of the guagua system (local buses, pronounced ‘wah-wah’) and spent my next couple of days heading to other parts of the island. One day I went to the most northern town called Corralejo, which looks like a typical resort town filled with tourists, tacky gift shops, and bars. For the morning I did an inland hike into the deserted mountain areas.


I thought that there were no animals around until I stopped walking to take a picture. Within seconds I was surrounded by these freaky little ground squirrels who were not afraid of me at all. I’m pretty sure that they would have climbed up my legs if I gave them the chance. 


That afternoon I took a ferry to the small protected island of Isla de Lobos. There is a trail to hike around almost the circumference of the island, including up it’s one mountain. As you can see, there is not any shade on the entire island, so it was a hot and exhausting adventure.

Another day I went to a town called El Cotillo, which is known for it’s surfing beaches. I spent a bit of time walking the beach but I also walked inland into the middle of nowhere where a guy has built a huge labyrinth. According to the Internet it’s about 3kms of walking to get to the centre (though I would dispute this as it took much less time than that). It was an interesting, meditative experience.

Here’s a photo from above that I found online:

I also checked one of the more ridiculous items off of my bucket list.

Then I headed south of the island to the ferry terminal, where there’s also a turtle rehab centre.


The 2 hour ferry to Gran Canarias seemed like it transported me to another world. This island is so much more lush, green, and populated. I had a couple of days to explore and hike.


Now I’m getting ready to start my journey back to Canada. I have a weekend with my OT girlfriends before Rob takes me home for a haircut and 6 weeks of pretend retirement. See you at the tennis club!

Auroraw

I had 3 friends whom I knew were planning to arrive in Santiago on May 30. My schedule had me getting there on the 31st, but I decided to push myself a little bit to get there a day earlier. 

On my last night I chose to stay in a Franciscan Monastery about 30kms outside of Santiago. They have room for 30 pilgrims, a tour, dinner, mass, and breakfast, all on a donation basis.

Parts of the church were built in the 14th century. I learned that in the olden days before the yellow arrows, the Camino was way marked with tall ‘cruceros’, where the face of Jesus pointed the way to Santiago.

At the end of the mass there was a special pilgrim blessing. One of the Franciscans came around and individually wished each of us ‘Buen Camino’. The blessing was read in all of the languages represented there. In my heart it was the completion of my Camino.

The next day I walked into Santiago. The last time I was here the outside of the cathedral was undergoing restoration, so it was nice to see it without tarps and scaffolding. As I was wandering around I randomly ran into all 3 of the friends I was hoping to see. One of whom is an Italian girl (Valentina) who I met when walking the Camino Frances in 2015. Magic.

I wasn’t sure that I was going to stand in the long lineup to get my Compostela. To be honest, I don’t really know where my one from 4 years ago is. I was tired and hangry, but for some reason I was motivated to wait. The Camino officials write the pilgrims’ names in Latin. My Compostela from 2015 says Dawn Erin Olson, because I guess they didn’t see a Latin for ‘Dawn’. I was so surprised when I saw this one and it made it definitely worth the wait.

Because I finished earlier than anticipated I have a few extra days before my flight home on June 6. I was thinking of walking further Camino routes, but felt like my journey on foot was done for this time. I did an internet search for the cheapest interesting place to fly from Santiago and booked flights to the Canary Islands! How’s that for dancing shoes?

The Lightbulb Moment

Since my last blog I saw some of the most beautiful scenery of this Camino. It was really neat to be in the Portuguese fort city of Valença, then walk across a bridge and be in Tui, Spain.

The number of pilgrims increased dramatically at Tui, as it’s just over 100kms away from Santiago. This is the minimum distance needed to walk in order to receive a Compostela (certificate of completion). The landscape changed to walking through forested areas and along babbling creeks. I made some nice connections with other pilgrims at some great Alburgues.

After reading my ‘Planny’ blog, an insightful friend asked me the name of the one making her place on my other shoulder. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and something just hasn’t felt quite right about it.

One day while walking it all of a sudden became so clear to me. I will never be (nor do I really want to be) a free spirited, as the wind blows kind of person. I would just like to nudge Planny a little along the continuum in that direction. I’m training myself to try to reduce those whispered fears and anxieties that are often distorted and catastrophic. This feels like a really authentic and positive shift. I can picture Planny with her practical, comfortable shoes, but she has some dancing shoes at the ready!

Semana Santa

I had read about Easter week in Spain and knew it was a big deal, but I didn’t realize how big of a deal until I was here for it. Preparations were underway 3 weeks ago when I was in Málaga and I saw them setting up scaffolding and bleachers.


In Ronda last week I saw some tiny children doing a little parade that was foreshadowing what was to come.


Starting the Sunday before Good Friday there are numerous daily parades that travel from church to church. Each starts with a marching band.


Then there are people wearing hooded robes carrying crosses and candles. It is a symbol of atoning for your sins. I did some research and found out that the costumes predate the KKK.


Some of them handed out small cards to the audience as they passed by.


Next come the incense swingers.


What follows is the ‘main event’. Somewhere around 40 strapping young men (all wearing back supports) carry a huge platform with either Christ or Mary (or a biblical scene). It is slow moving as they can’t see where they’re going, so there are guides to tell them to move left or right. The carriers change out quite frequently, arousing applause from the audience.


Some of the parades have a group of women wearing black following, though many did not.


I saw parades like this in 4 different cities. One day I asked one of my hosts if the parades are always the same. He looked at me like I was crazy. No, of course not. Look at this schedule. This one starts from this church, that one from that church, etc.  The only real difference that I could see was the colour of the robes they wear.

Every day people dress if their best clothes to witness these parades go by. I get the feel that people buy new outfits to celebrate the occasion. It also seems to be a thing for the kids in a family to wear matching outfits (which I’m sure every little sister loves).

The grand finale is on Good Friday, when the parades start at 1 or 2 in the morning. Though I didn’t get up to see it, I could hear the drums from the comfort of my bed. I travelled to Seville for the evening of Good Friday without realizing that it has the biggest celebrations in all of Spain. The set up was markedly more elaborate than the other cities. I have to admit that I skipped seeing the parades again, though I did get to see some TV coverage from the bus station.

As a person not used to this tradition, it was a bit strange to see the hooded figures milling around town after the parades were over.


I’m finishing this blog from Lisbon, where I await the arrival of RobO!

Jerez Means Sherry in Spanish

Jerez de la Frontera is know for it’s Andalusian horses, flamenco, and sherry, so naturally I explored all 3.

I’ve always liked horses (ask any of my childhood friends who came to my horseback riding birthday parties) and I was drawn to come to Jerez after I read about the show “How the Andalusian Horses Dance”. During the 2 hour performance there were different acts all set to traditional music: single horse and rider, groupings of horses with riders, carriages, and horses on leads.

I had know idea that horses could move the way that they did. There were times they glided like figure skaters: changing lead leg as they changed direction and doing cross over steps as they moved diagonally. There were times they moved like ballet dancers: prancing in sync with the music, skipping, and timing intricately choreographed designs. There were times they had the muscle control of break dancers: squatting on their back legs while holding their front legs balanced in the air and jumping like kangaroos across the arena. There were times they played like children: marching their front legs forward like soldiers, bouncing all 4 legs off the ground, and jumping high in the air and kicking their back legs out.

I was entranced. I could almost feel the change in air pressure as the audience collectively held their breath then let out sighs. I could see the glisten of perspiration on the horses as a song neared completion. I could sense the connection between horse and rider; the rider lovingly patting the horse during applause. More than once I felt the prickle of tears in my eyes. I did not predict that it would move me this much.

Photos and videos are prohibited, so here are some outdoor shots at the practice arena and a couple of sneak pics from during the show. Take my word for it that no picture or video can compare to seeing this show live.

Next I went to a popular flamenco and sherry bar. If you haven’t seen a flamenco show, it’s also something that can’t be described with words and images. There’s usually someone playing rhythmic guitar and a singer who sings in a very passionate and emotional way, almost wailing at times. The dancer is also very emotional and uses his/her whole body (stamping, clapping, facial expressions) to adjunct the dance.

I really liked the atmosphere of this bar. They write a person’s tab in chalk on the bar, so when I wanted something else I just pointed to my chalk tab and he’d add the new drink.

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As for the Sherry tasting, I went to a bodega called Emilio Lustau. It offered a tour with 9 Sherry tastings and 2 vermouth.


Here’s how my tasting notes went:

#1: hints of nail polish remover and lemon

#2: scent of sea air with a finish of nail polish remover

#3: starting to taste better… Maybe like orange peel and hydrogen peroxide

#6: yes, caramel with cardamom undertones

#9: Sherry? Who is she?

#10 (white vermouth): yum

#11 (red vermouth): yum with coriander and ginger aftertaste. Followed by a couple of free pours by an English woman who was on the tour.

There may or may not have been a cartwheel done in the main square following. Because I was alone you’ll never know…

Here are a few pictures from my wanderings around town.


I took a day trip to the seaside city of Cadiz. I hadn’t planned to go there, but it had the best forecast in the area. It was wonderful to explore the winding streets and walk the boardwalk.

Tomorrow I head to Seville to take my night bus to meet RobO. As promised I’ll do an Easter week blog before you get to start hearing from RobO.

Mezquita Magic

This trip confirms what I felt the last time that I was in the South of Spain. So far, it is ‘my place’; aka where I think I’m meant to live. Before you start worrying, RobO’s on board too. It meets his 2 criteria: me and nachos. Throw in some tennis, sangria, and cured meats and he’ll be happy forever.  Hopefully someday I’ll get to test the theory.

I added Córdoba to my itinerary quite late and I’m grateful that I was able to fit it in. I wasn’t sure that any church could rival my awe of Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia, but the Mezquita (mosque-cathedral) is in the running. Originally it was built as as mosque in the year 788, then a over a timeline of different renovations it was converted into a Catholic cathdral. Essentially it is a huge space of candy cane arches with an enormous cathedral right in the middle of it.


I also visited the Alcazar, a fortress that was once a primary residence of the king. The geometrically designed gardens are a peaceful place to spend time. This first picture messes with my mind, but it’s of a skylight:


Córdoba is known for its patios, which are courtyards in the centre of buildings that are covered with beautiful flowers. My gardener friends would be in heaven visiting here, especially during the annual patio festival in May.

Speaking of patios, spending time in outdoor courtyards is something that Spaniards know how to do best.


The winding streets of the Jewish quarter could keep me occupied for hours.

Another big thing this week has been Semana Santa (Holy Week or Easter week), but I’m going to save it for a future blog as its only just begun. I will, however, give you a sneak peek to get you interested.

Back to School

I have been so lucky to spend a full week in Spanish school in the town of Ronda in the south of Spain. Each day has been pretty much the same: get up and ready, do my homework, go hiking/exploring the town, school from 4pm-8pm, try different tapas and wines, home to bed. Repeat. A simple but awesome life. 

I was drawn to the Entrelenguas school as soon as I read their website.


I have seen a huge advancement in my Spanish over the week. I must give credit to the conversation club that I’ve been attending weekly at the Medicine Hat Public Library which has definitely kept my momentum going. This week concepts that previously made my brain explode have been much easier to understand and use. I’ve still had my fair share of smoke coming out of my ears, but all in the name of progress!

Ronda is such an easy town to immerse into because it can be explored fully on foot. It’s famous for it’s bridges that span a gorge which runs through the middle of the town. There are 3 different bridges, but the newest one (finished in 1793) is the biggest tourist attraction in town.


Ronda also has a significant history in bullfighting. The local Romero family is credited for introducing the red cape and making it more of an art rather than just a slaughter. The oldest bullfighting ring in town still hosts an annual event. I’m thankful I wasn’t present for it.

Numerous writers and artists have gotten inspiration from this picturesque town, including Hemingway’s ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’.


Much of the time when hiking I’ve felt like I’m walking through a painting. I’ve definitely put some miles on my shoes. I consider it more like earning the ability to eat more Iberian ham.

I could definitely see myself returning here again, hopefully next time with RobO.

Tomorrow I take the train to Córdoba. It’s only 1 week until another Olson reunion. The countdown timer is running…

‘The King’s Little Path’

Today was a bucket list kind of day. I first saw the Caminito Del Rey on Pinterest (it was actually one of the first pictures that I pinned to my travel inspiration page). This pathway 100 meters above a gorge was first built in 1901 for workers of the hydroelectric dams. Over the years it crumbled into disrepair and was nicknamed ‘the world’s most dangerous walkway’ due to the numerous (Darwin award) deaths over the years. The local government put millions into restoring the pathway and it was re-opened in 2015, which was when it made the bucket list. Now it has to be booked months in advance as only 900 people are allowed on it each day. I was pumped when I reserved my spot in January.

I am staying in the nearby town of Alora and decided to hike to the trailhead rather than take the train. Using my trusty maps.me app* I started hiking before sunrise to ensure I would be there in time for my 12:30 ticket time. It like I was walking through a dream landscape, witnessing the first rays of light on the lemon, orange, and olive groves. I followed dirt roads and paths weaving through fields and along the railway tracks and arrived to El Chorro (the train station) with plenty of time for a cafe con leche and snack.

Incidentally I almost ended up missing my entry time as I didn’t realize that I was supposed to be at the trail head 30 mins in advance. I anxiously watched the guy turn numerous people away (tickets were sold out) before he squeezed me into the next grouping (which was confusingly at my original ticket time).

The actual hike is only 7kms and takes about 2 hours (including time to snap hundreds of photos). It decidedly earned it’s place on the bucket list. There are spots where it is still possible to see the original sketchy pathway with the pristine new one built above it. I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is: no, it’s not scary at all. In fact, not once did I get that wibbly feeling in my gut that sometimes comes along with heights. 

The old path:


I decided that I had the energy and provisions to hike back to my hotel as well, which added an exclamation point to an already fantastic day of hiking.

Tomorrow I’m headed to the town of Ronda to settle in for a week of Spanish school.

* I would like to give a shout out to the free maps.me app. If you haven’t heard of it, trust me when I say that it is a travel game-changer. Here’s how it works: you can download a country, then ‘pin’ useful places (hotels, restaurants, sights, train station, etc). Then you can use the app to look at the map or create walking/biking/driving/transit routes. Now, here’s where it really shines: you can use it in real time when you’re not on wifi or data! Without it, there’s no way I could have attempted, let alone completed an un-signposted hike. 

Costa Del Sol Sola

When I arrived in Spain I have to admit I was a bit out of sorts. After 6 weeks of travelling with great company, ordering a table for one feels a bit lonely. Plus it was raining and anyone who knows me at all will know how much I dislike getting wet! But with the beauty of Málaga and being soaked in the Spanish language it didn’t take long to get my mojo back.

One of my first stops was the (free on Sunday afternoons) Alcazaba de Malaga, which is a Moorish palace fortress that’s kind of like a mini Alhambra. 

Up the hill is the Castillo de Gibralfaro which once acted as a lighthouse and military barracks. Now it offers sweeping views of the city and over the Mediterranean toward Africa.

No visit to a Spanish city could be complete without some church visits. The Cathedral de Málaga started on a mosque site and took 200 years to build. Because of the extensive time and cost they stopped before the second bell tower was complete. Now it bears the nickname ‘La Manquita’, which means the one-armed lady.

Being on the coast, there’s quite a beach scene in Málaga. As soon as the sun came out people flocked to the seaside paths and patios.

One morning I awoke to a bright bluebird day. I took the bus to the neighbouring town of Nerja and hiked up a creek bed to the village of Frigiliana. It’s a classic white village that appears to be dramatically clinging to the side of a mountain. I would have liked to spend more time savouring the views, maybe even with my paint set.

Nerja isn’t a bad place to spend time either.

I’ll leave you with a few pictures of markets, churches, and food. The seafood, paella, and sangria can definitely help a traveller get her groove back.


I’m moving inland today. Spoiler alert: tomorrow I’m doing the hike that is the reason that I returned to this area. So far the forecast looks great!

Spanish Flies

It has been a great 5 weeks vacation for me, but sadly I fly home tomorrow while DawnO heads to the UK.  We are spending our last stop together in Madrid, Spain’s capital.  We’ve done our best to explore this international city which included a trip to a museum, a tour through the Palacios Real, and sampling food at a local market.

Palacio Real/Plaza de la Armeria (indoor photos were taken incognito):

Museo del Prado (incognito):

This was the best part of the museum for us.  Throughout the gallery, other artists had set up their own easels and were either creating their own replicas, or were making their own versions of the painting they were studying.

Cathedral de Nuestra Señora de la Almudena:

 

 

 

Crystal Palace/Parque del Buen Retiro:

 

Other random pictures:

I’m pretty sure children were crying at the sight of this headless Mickey.  You can’t really blame the guy when it’s 37 degrees out.

DawnO will be blogging soon about her Sense holiday.  We will be reunited mid-August.