Category Archives: Spain

A collection of travelogues from my trips to Spain, peppered with reviews and recommendations of accommodation, walking tours, restaurants and pubs.

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 7: Gran Canaria

Leave a comment

GRAN CANARIA

19 – 23 March 2025
After 2 very exciting first legs of the Canary Islands tour – the cruise and then a stint in Tenerife – it was time for the 3rd and final piece. Ending off with 5 days in Gran Canaria took the sting out of the epic holiday having to inevitably conclude. Our friends Alex and Luke (from England) joining us there was a bonus that had had us actually looking forward to starting the last stage together.
The ports of Santa Cruz on the east side of Tenerife and Agaete on the west side of Gran Canaria are only about 75km apart so we caught the ferry. We sucked up an early morning start to catch the 8am boat to have us at our destination less than an hour and a half later.
Effortlessly collecting our rental car at the port, we were soon on our way. After a couple of short stops in the seaside town of Agaeta and the historic town of Guia, we headed up the mountain to find our Airbnb house. It was a hair-raising white-knuckled drive along narrow streets with hairpin bends, blind corners and unexpected dead ends (even with GPS and Google offline maps)… but worth it when we got to Ecofinco Selva Dormas.
We had booked a large house for the extended group, but the description on the website had not done justice. Our host welcomed us to the ‘traditional Canarian home’ with its 5 double bedrooms curved around a central pyjama lounge with fireplace. To the right, walking through the modern kitchen (with walk-in pantry) produced the open-plan atrium living space with a 12-seater farmstyle dining table running along the right hand side and a lounge and big-screen TV area occupying the middle and left respectively. Outsized couches invited us to relax and enjoy the panoramic view that the wall-to-wall windows offered of the farm, the gorge beyond and even Las Palmas and the ocean on the horizon.
Sadly, we had no time to waste and it was back in the car to get to the airport to meet our British contingent. Taking a more direct, yet barely less harrowing, route back to the highway saved us some time but we were still almost an hour late. Fortunately, our friends were chill and our make-shift meeting arrangements sound enough to see us all greeting each other with smiling faces and hilarity a short time later.
Using online Google to get back to the farm seemed to make little difference to the return journey routing, but Chris’s recent experience with the new circumstances and terrain made up for it. After a short stop at the mercado to get dinner supplies, he was expertly bobbing and weaving around unmarked roads to get us back to our haven.
Our new guests were as impressed with our house as we were. We had barely finished showing off the impressive barbecue, patio furniture and hot tub, and had moved onto the terrace when our host reappeared to repeat the welcome spiel. Boy, was he surprised with how interested we were. Poor guy ended up taking us for a 2 hour tour around the property, explaining the what, why and how of everything we asked about – and many things we didn’t think to.
It was a good story with our host, Jaime, being a teacher who had acquired the farm 4 years prior with the ideal of playing his part in reforesting where Gran Canaria had lost countless trees to humans needing wood for burning and building. He had the house to rent out for funds, and was using the grounds to supplement income through eco-friendly and community-driven exploits. There was an orchard producing oranges, lemons, avocados and loquats that he told us were tended by his students with special needs. An indigenous garden was dedicated to a generous collection of shrubs and plants uniquely Canarian, which he plucked and plumped so we could taste or smell.
Completing our tour of the top gardens, he offered to show us the lower grounds. Calling his bluff, we descended on the ramps that ran in front of our terrace. With a whiff of this and a waft of that, we slowly inched down the ramps until we were at the chicken run. Jaime introduced us to the ladies – a few personally, with made-up names – and one of the three roosters. We were provided with leaves from the tastier shrubs nearby to feed the hens, who cackled and sqwawked delightedly as they tussled for the leaves and branches we poked through the fence for them.
The tour closed with a visit to the greenhouse, where we were enlightened on some of the more taxing and laborious tasks that it takes to get healthy veggies to market. Learning of the Friday market in Guia, we committed to doing a fresh food shop from the stall that sold the produce from our farm. We were also provided a fresh-from-the-vine cucumber since we hadn’t been able to get one on our grocery shop.
With that we returned home for a sundowner and to prepare our dinner, a fantastic tuna pasta with fresh salad and crusty bread. It had been a long day for all, so we let Ted Lasso see us off to slumber time.
THURSDAY
Celebrating Dorothy’s 84th birthday, we were up bright and early making tea and a fuss. We had wonderful farm fresh oranges for juice and eggs to make scrambles before we hit the road to Las Palmas.
The mothers were deposited at the seaside to meet up with Aunty Pat and Uncle Peter who had timed their holidays to cross-over with ours for a much-needed reunion. We drove across to the old town for our booked walking tour.
We met Luis from Guru Walk at the designated spot and were very impressed with how organised he was. He started with an introduction of himself and his heritage in Gran Canaria as well as the history of Las Palmas, and then invited us into the church for a taste of the island’s religious history.
We spent the next couple of hours following Luis as he led us through the charming cobbled streets, pointing out places of interest. He illustrated his stories with laminated sheets from a plastic envelope under his arm and with images from his iPad. It was a mixed bag of triumph and tragedy that dated back to cave-dwellers, welcomed intrepid explorers, evolved from slave-trading and has kept this little island solidly on the map for millennia. Poor Luis expertly fielded all the random questions our little group threw at him, mixing his academic history and geography education with personal anecdotes that lent depth to the textbook narrative.
When we were done we made our way back to the waterfront to meet up with the others for a late lunch. Luke had found us a well-reviewed restaurant a few doors down from the hotel and they seated us immediately. Navigating the complicated menu, we each found something delicious to order and then shared stories of our respective days while sipping on our drinks. It was great to have such a festive mix at the impromptu birthday party!
Sadly, with a long drive ahead, it was time to go sooner than we would have liked. Our merry group piled into the car and made our way back up the mountain to our fabulous farm. There was still some light left of the day and with no cooking to do, we were able to flop into the hot tub to enjoy the spectacular view, with the clear evening allowing us to see all the way back to Las Palmas.
FRIDAY
Anticipating that we would want to pick at the market, we had a quick start to the day with freshly-squeezed orange juice before heading out. We easily found the indoor market building and Jaime was easy to spot as we arrived, since he was outside and on the phone doing a TV interview about something farm-related. We got shopping and bought a collection of organic items that would enrich our next couple of meals.
Falling short on the immediate food front, we made our way to Agaete to source something to fill the bellies that we’re planning on hiking all day. A waterfront diner did the trick with crusty bocadilla rolls providing the carbs we needed.
The winding drive along the steep ocean-facing cliffs had us sweating almost as much as the hike promised to. With a lot of roadworks, there were a lot of big trucks. Clearly used to the roads, they would hurtle in our direction and we would breathe in as they slid past us. Passing motorists didn’t inspire us with any more faith, often overlapping onto our side of the road as they swung into view from curves up ahead. There were thankfully precious few cyclists, and the intermittent hikers casually ambling up the non-existent pavement with nothing but sheer drop on the other side had us crawling past them so as not to create any cause for alarm.
It was still a beautiful drive and we were excited for what lay ahead. Alex had a hikes and walks app and had selected a path for us to follow. Mostly clear and flat track, we could focus on the view and chatting amongst ourselves, and predicting which muscle groups would have stories to tell the next day from the steeper climbing parts of the route. Great to spend a couple of hours in the sunshine and fresh air, appreciating the best that nature has to offer from the spectacular viewpoints.
Rewarding ourselves for a job well done, lunch was a collection of local delicacies including mushrooms grilled with almagrote cheese paste, pork croquettes, deep fried goat cheese and some calamari rings for good measure.
We lucked out on the return journey, where we discovered that all the roadwork crews were building tunnels through the base of the mountains, which saved all the perilous cross-crossing we’d experienced on the way up the coast. We particularly enjoyed a stunning new 2.4km tunnel that had been open less than a month and offered a slick two-laned shortcut that saved us 20 minutes or more!
Back in civilisation we hunter-gathered for supplies for dinner. Thanks to the joys of island life where seafood is so reasonably priced, we landed two huge pieces of salmon (almost a kilo each) for a fish braai back at the farm. Luke would be preparing his signature dish, Spanish Omelette, to accompany. With that, we returned to the nest to share the stories of our day and sneak a whirl in the hot tub to wash away all the stories our muscles were already telling.
SATURDAY
The last day always comes too soon. We woke up in the clouds, with our mountain home engulfed in a low hanging mist and threatening rain. Temperatures had dropped and it was quite chilly! We wondered how this would bode for our ‘Beach day’ plan…
We set off, back down the mountain and on the ring road highway that ran clockwise three quarters of the way around the island. We would be driving the whole distance, to Mogan at the farthest point, and counting our blessings for the freeway.
While we were amazed to be greeted with bright sunshine on this end of the island, we were a bit disappointed with Mogan. The small slice of beach was packed and promoters outside the crescent of restaurants along the short waterfront promenade were already having little challenge luring tourists in with drinks specials and meal deals. It was clear from the row of apartments and the collection of stores that this town had dedicated itself to in-and-out holidaymakers. Luke did us the honours of testing the waters so that at least we could say we collectively had experienced the ocean.
Retracing our footsteps to Maspalomas, we guided ourselves to the RUI hotel that was described as the gateway to the famous dunes, which were became visible as we walked through the grand entrance.
A signboard gave us options for walks through the dunes and we selected the 2.3km route that would deposit us at the sea. It didn’t sound very far – a fraction of the hike the previous day – but the thick sand made the going a lot slower and tougher. It was worth it though to make our way along the demarcated path to appreciate the vastness of it all.
Then, like an oasis, we were at the sea. Like true wanderers emerging from the desert, we were keen on refreshments. There were lots of restaurants (mostly seafood) and a real party vibe. Succumbing to the spirit of tourism, we had a pint at Paddy’s Irish Bar to log on our Guinness Index.
Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 6: Tenerife

Leave a comment

TENERIFE

16-19 March 2025
It was with heavy hearts (and heads, after our party the night before) that we had to bid farewell to the ship that had been our home for the preceding week and toured us around the Canary Islands. We savoured our last breakfast onboard and then wheeled our cases to the car rental agency on the Santa Cruz de Tenerife port to pick up the keys for our new adventure.
With plenty of time before check-in at our Airbnb rental to the south of the port, we took a drive up north to the historic town of La Orotava. Arriving in the old town, it took several circles to find a parkade so we could explore on foot.
Knowing precious little about our new location, it was a relief and a delight to find that there were info boards outside of the places of interest. And there were many! The well-preserved neighbourhood had buildings that dated back more than 500 years and shared examples of architecture spanning across the millennia, where some of the structures had succumbed to some sort of accidental destruction and been rebuilt.
Built on a slope, some of the hills were not for the faint-hearted… but did allow for some creative use of space with terraced gardens, and breath-taking views both up and down the few roads that made up the old town.
Time still in hand, we headed towards our base camp, Tabaiba, just south of Santa Cruz de Tenerife. Wanting to get our sight-seeing done before check in, we explored the seaside first with a drive to the next big town, Candelaria for a wander around.
Our Airbnb apartment was mounted on a steep hillside with an impressive panoramic view of the coastline. With our 3 bedrooms upstairs (each with a terrace) and a large living area downstairs, we settled in for a quiet evening at home to find our land legs again.
MONDAY
Our itinerary had us travelling south for the day. The good people of Tenerife had thoughtfully created a ring-road freeway around the circumference of the island, which made it very quick and easy to execute our mission. Our trusty rental car soon deposited us at the very busy coastal resort-town of Los Cristianos.
The struggle for finding a parking spot made sense once we walked down from the road to the promenade. Even for a fresh spring morning, the beach was already full of sunbathers and people playing volleyball or bat-and-ball. The restaurants were busy and the pubs long-since open. Being St Patrick’s Day, there were holiday-makers donning bright green shirts and hats, and posters in several establishment promised that the day would be exceptionally festive. Quite different from anything we’d yet experienced in the Canary Islands.
The visual overload was addictive and before we even realised it, we had covered a couple of kilometres on the promenade, window-shopping and people-watching. We had worked up quite an appetite! It was most certainly time for lunch.
Spoilt for choice, a set menu caught our attention and we settled in at Las Castanuelos for a collection of options from the menu so that we would have stories to tell about the local dishes. Washing it all down with Sangria and soaking in the seaside atmosphere.
Keen to get feet up after our great trek, we eased our way back to homebase for a couple of hours of R&R. Our apartment had a spacious covered front terrace, with lounge furniture arranged to appreciate the spectacular sunset.
After a light supper, we introduced the mothers to the wonder that is Ted Lasso and we all had a good laugh until bedtime beckoned.
TUESDAY
We would be remiss in spending time in Tenerife without an explore of the capital, Santa Cruz, so up the coast we went. With rain forecast for the afternoon, we front-ended the outdoor excursions such that we could have a leisurely lunch to weather any storms, so to speak, when and if the time came.
This meant starting with a visit to the historical town of La Laguna. Similar to La Orotava, it was an enclave of beautifully preserved old town. With cobblestone streets and elegant facades, we could only imagine that this would have been the top-end of the town back then. It also had a very pleasant aroma lingering from the generous selection of coffee shops and bakeries nested into the ground level floor of some of the buildings that had been subtly converted for retail.
A pop into the tourist office revealed which buildings allowed access (and which were free), helping to guide our wandering so that we could poke a nose into the lavish gentry homes where you could access the central courtyard to see their impressive domains. With dark, heavy wood balconies and floorboards, it was incredible to see what great shape these buildings were still in. They promise to be standing long after some of our modern structures have caved!
Long past lunch o’clock, we hit the highway to get to the capital for a bite and an explore. Chris expertly navigated us to a central parkade so we were soon enjoying a pizza Compostelana near the Plaza de España.
Another tourist office produced another valuable map. Santa Cruz de Tenerife had a compact centre of town jam-packed with wonderment. Squares, monuments, artwork, gardens and architecture… all within an easily walkable collection of blocks. Real good bang for sight-seeing buck!
A highlight was concluding with an underground visit to the San Cristóbal castle’s foundations. Constructed in 1575 and having secured the city through several momentous battles, the castle was unfathomably demolished in 1928. The remains were only rediscovered in 2006 during a remodel of Plaza Espana, whereafter the city created a free exhibit accessible from just off the seaward side of the square. Along with a section of the excavated heavy stone wall, you could see the infamous El Tigre canon that legend contends is responsible for taking Lord Nelson’s arm in battle in 1797!
Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 5: Lanzerote

Leave a comment

LANZEROTE

15 March 2025

With a slightly later start, the morning trot on the treadmill in the gym on the cruise ship had a spectacular view of the sunrise as we approached the island of Lanzerote on the horizon. A hearty breakfast later and we were there.
The port of Arancife was quite different to those at which we’d arrived on the other islands. The long row of masts on the yacht-lined harbour looked a bit like a palisade fence between us and the white block flat-roofed buildings along the shoreline.
First stop was in the former capital, Teguise, for a walk around the old town to view the Parish of Lanzerote, a building from 1418, as well as the museum that dated from the 1500s. The shops were starting to open up (not a bad life for the locals retailers, considering it was almost 11am on a Saturday) and atmosphere was building in the old town. We reckoned it might get quite festive later in the day.
Using the map we got at the car rental office, we navigated to Lanzerote’s most northernmost point. Amazing how different the landscape was; the feels of a desert with sandy patches and cactuses, but then also a rugged carpet of bright green shrubby foliage. Peculiarly, there were big chunks missing from the sides of several of the koppies; although likely an uninteresting explanation like wind erosion, it was more amusing to imagine that something other-worldly had taken massive bites out of them.
The town of Orzola was a bit of a wash with little going on besides the port to catch the ferry to La Graciosa, an island that offered a change of scenery just a hop across the bay. After a bit of a wander – and some souvenir shopping at the local supermercado for the mothers – we were back in the car.
Twenty minutes and superb scenery later we were in Caleta de Famara. With little to no internet on the trip, we had no idea what to expect. Pulling into the village we found 3 or 4 neat rows of the same white block houses, but this time with wide sandy roads between them instead of the impeccable tarmac we’d seen in all the others before.
It soon became evident that we were in surfers’ paradise. Every shop was something surf related – gear, lessons, branded merch – or a seafood restaurant. The sea itself was dotted with surfers in wetsuits bobbing on their boards, awaiting their wave. A sandy crescent of sunbathers watched the show. There really was little else to do.
After a stroll along the promenade and an amble back through the ‘burbs, we made our way to the west of Lanzarote to see what we could see.
Again, the terrain changed radically and we were soon surrounded by black lava fields that were described in the travel brochures as looking like being on Mars. The typically-Lanzerote white houses in the town of Tinajo seemed even whiter against the stark backdrop. So odd to see the black granules where green lawn should be in the local residents’ front yards.
The last stop for the day was the Parque Nacional de Timanfaya but by the time we got there, we reckoned we’d seen enough of the volcanic landscape to warrant giving the drive through the park a miss to just see more of the same. Some snaps at the gate and we ticked it off as done.
We had by now travelled far enough south that our trip would complete with a 22km slice to the east to get back to Arrecife. Before you could say ‘eating again’, we were on Deck 11 enjoying snacks and drinks to see us through to another fabulous dinner and evening of entertainment to bid farewell to our wonderful week of cruising around the Canary Islands as we arrived back in Tenerife.
Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 4: La Palma

Leave a comment

LA PALMA

14 March 2025
Settling into our new life in the serviced restaurant on Deck 5 of the MSC Opera, we started the day with an order of the generous Full English (known in international waters as the MSC Express) to celebrate our arrival in the port of La Palma.
Having made no prior arrangements for this small island we left ourselves in fate’s hands, reckoning that if we could get a car we would drive down south, and if not then we would just have a wander around the town. With a very civilised 11am docking in Santa Cruz de La Palma, it was easy to be fed and ready at the gates when disembarking opened. Joining the queue at the first car rental agency, we were soon the proud new renters of an Alfa Tomeo Tonale, and off we set.
A little free WiFi from trusty McDonald’s (conveniently located on the port, right next to the car park) allowed us to download an offline Google Map to see us to the sights.
On approaching the island, we had appreciated it from our vantage point on the ship as a steep green mound with clusters of brightly coloured block buildings clinging to the base at the shoreline. Now, approaching it on land, we found ourselves winding along the side of the mound, carving and curving slowly upward. It was getting noticeably colder and darker as we climbed, with the mountainside getting greener as we approached the steep bit at the top that disappeared into a soft grey cloud.
The first stop was at San Antonio volcano to take a short trot to the crater. Having last erupted in 1677, the area was well restored with vegetation. The Visitors Centre was a €9 entry fee so we gave that a skip, in favour of driving down to the southern tip.
Winding down the steep hillside, we marvelled at the vast stone walls that had been created to retain the rocks and create functional terraces. Mostly to grow bananas, it would seem. Banana trees as far as the eye could see.
Reaching the coast, we marvelled at Playa de Echentive beach. It had been naturally formed when the Teneguia Volcano erupted in 1971 leaving an abundance of pebbles and gravel. The result was a black hill of granular lava rocks down to the grey beach of lava sand. Parts of the cove were sheltered from the choppy sea and the sign said that these rock pools were calm all year round.
Following the main road around the tip took us to the salt pans at Salinas Fuencalientes. While it had been very cold and slightly wet up at the volcano, it was warm and sunny at the coast; amazing microclimates! We were surprised and delighted with a bonus duet of lighthouses, a self-guided salt pan tour and a restaurant and visitors centre where we could buy some of the freshly harvested salt, flavoured or plain.
Little known (to us anyway), La Palma has a wine route. Ready to whet whistles, we stopped at a winery we had seen recommended twice – in a guide book and on a board at the lighthouses. The host at Bodegas Carballo invited us in and took us through a flight of their reds, white, rose and of course their local sweet wine made with the malvaisa grape. The reds were pretty good so we supported local business by procuring a bottle as a keepsake.
With our itinerary completed, we retraced our footsteps back around the mountain and alongside the steep rock faces with a lot more confidence than on our way there. We were all smiles about our little adventure as we reboarded our cruise ship and celebrated our day, while wondering what Lanzerote would have in store for us the following day.
Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 2: Fuerteventura

Leave a comment

FUERTEVENTURA

11 Mar 2025
It was wonderfully convenient going to bed in Gran Canaria and waking up in Fuerteventura! Having experienced the vast buffet on our first morning, we were generous with our time allowance for breakfast on Day 2. Timing it well, we disembarked from the ship at Puerto del Rosario on the islands of Fuerteventura no more than a few minutes later than planned… and almost an hour before we were scheduled to pick up our hire car, conveniently located right on the quayside.
Minor flutters when the car hire kiosk was still closed when we got there. Always one for immediate action, Chris approached the neighbouring car hire kiosk to rent us another car. We’d no sooner started the paperwork when the attendant from original car hire company arrived and we were hooked up with our booked vehicle.
Jumping into our Hyundai i20, we were off on our adventure. We had done our homework, lending from all of the excursions offered by the cruise line to create our own highlights tour route. Thus, we were off to the North of the island to the sand dunes of Correlejo.
The landscape was not at all what we expected. Everything in the Canaries being named Palmas this-and-that conjures images of tropical paradise. Yet, the view on either side of the highway was barren with sand-coloured mounds. The ground was so rocky and granular that it looked like instant coffee that had been poured from the heavens.
Soon enough the horizon started to soften as we approached Correlejo, famed for its beautiful beaches and the dunes in the surrounding Parque (nature reserve). Spotting a tour bus, we reckoned that it must be a recommended photo stop so we pulled over and wandered around the soft sand dunes on the sea side and the gravelly arid desert on the other side of the road.
Now at the northern tip of Fuerteventura with our mission accomplished, it was time for an about-turn to traverse the island through the central route that promised dramatic landscapes and quaint little villages.
We were treated to both sooner than expected, when 10km later we were in La Oliva, self-described “village steeped in history”. We visited the traditional Mercado (market) and sampled banana wine (dreadful) before putting a nose in at the 17th century La Candelaria church, to light a candle in the name of our fathers. The landscape was indeed dramatic and the handful of palmtree-lined streets marked this pinhead of a town as a veritable oasis in the middle of the desert.
Back on the road, we passed the Montana de Tindaya landmark and (not for the first time) wished we had Google to shed light on why this sole koppie was mentioned as a place of interest on many of the excursions. For now it would have to remain a mystery, as would the ongoing debate about what the good people of Fuerteventura do for a living on this meticulously-kept remote little landmass.
The next village, Betancuria, proudly announced itself with a signboard saying it was bestowed the honour of being one of the prettiest villages in Spain. It was also clearly the busiest village on the island with loads of tourists busses and so many cars that the public lot was full, prompting us to move on without stopping.
The drive to the next town was a hair-raising sequence of tight twists and turns on very narrow road cutting across and through the mountains. While we enjoyed spectacular vistaramas, Chris white-knuckled us past a couple of busses and more than a couple of irresponsible and inconsiderate drivers cutting it very fine as they approached us from the opposite direction.
We were deposited in pretty little Pajara, which was exactly what you’d expect of a village described as having a “laid-back sleepy atmosphere” on an island that wasn’t exactly pumping. Lucky us, there was a market in the church square so we could have a wander around while admiring the Aztec-inspired church that was the central draw card. Mother was under the impression that Canaries was famed for basket-making… and there there was not a basket to be had at the craft market; the search would have to continue.
Last stop on the road trip was Antigua, with its famous cheese farm and museum. We made short work of a self-guided tour around the shop, having decided that getting an education on the process of cheese-making (goat or otherwise) was not for us.
With a short hop on open roads to close the loop, we deposited the car back at the rental agency, ensured the mothers were safely re-embarked, and Chris and I took the opportunity for a bit of an explore of the beachfront bit of Puerto del Rosario, where our cruise ship had docked in Fuerteventura.
Clearly a seaside vacation destination, there were many holiday apartments lining the promenade locations with restaurants and shops at street level. We entered the big shiny mall to see what Canarian retail looked like – and were delighted by how many sneaker shops there were! We could have spent all day (and a fortune) there under different circumstances.
After a flit past McDonalds for some free WiFi to download offline Google maps, what we’d missed in civilisation and do a quick Duolingo lesson, we headed back to the ship, fancying ourselves a sundowner beer to close the busy day.
Who should we see there? The mothers. Who had discovered that there was High Tea served on Deck 11 at 4pm! We got the lowdown from their reccie of the cake selection. Although that wasn’t our cup of tea for the moment, we found space for a slice of pizza from the 24 hour cafe that had been calling our names since we boarded.
Barely finished sundowners, it was time to suit up for dinner. Tracksuit, that is.
Tucked into our usual booth we recounted the day’s adventures and all we had seen and done, somehow managing to squeeze in another 3 course meal along the way. We had to chivvy a little since with a Day at Sea (and thus a later start) to follow, we had pre-decided to do the Quiz and the show at the Theatre after dinner.
Scuttling out of our booth with mere minutes to spare, we expertly navigated to the lounge where the Quiz was to be held and found ourselves seats around a low table that would allow for discrete consultation on tricky questions. It was very exciting that we were tied with 3 other teams… and then Chris swept the title with an ace on the sudden death question, winning himself an MSC-branded running hat.
On a bit of a high, we made our way to the theatre where we were treated to spectacle called Voyage, with song-and-dance themed routines from London, Paris and Rome. Fantastic!
Canary Islands, Europe, Madeira, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 1: Las Palmas

Leave a comment

LAS PALMAS

09 – 10 March 2025

It was bittersweet to plan our trip to the Canary Islands. As one of the few cruises my folks had not done, it had seemed a fitting family reunion and send-off for Pappy’s ashes. Sadly, passport admin prevented our Irish family from meeting up with us, but we decided to go ahead with the mothers anyway as a something-to-look-forward to holiday after a particularly tough 2024.
We spent the next few months planning and booking and debating and packing. And then we were off! Up in the sky on a Lufthansa flight through Frankfurt to meet the MSC Opera cruise ship in Las Palmas, the capital of Tenerife.
Having made no transfer arrangements, we struck luck spotting an MSC representative as we walked through into the Arrivals Hall. There was a cruise shuttle waiting right outside to take us to the ship. Just short of an hour later, we’d completed our first excursion as the scenic bus route northward along the coastline to Santa Cruz, and were the first of our busload to check in.
Having been in transit for a considerable amount of time and breakfast seeming like a distant memory, first order of business on the ship was to find lunch. Which we did with vigour and purpose at the buffet restaurant. A long horseshoe of delicious things had us loading our over-sized plates with more food than any one person should be allowed at a single sitting!
On conclusion, we located our cabins and realised that the mothers had been erroneously allocated a double cabin with a lifeboat completely obscuring their window, when they should have had a twin with a view. That would not be! With prompt escalation, their amendment was soon in motion – and resulted in an upgrade to a much bigger and nicer cabin.
After a bit of an explore around the lounges, bars, shops, pools and games areas, the labyrinth of a ship started taking shape in our mind-maps, giving natural perspective and orientation to front vs back and the various decks. It was soon time to wander over to the lucky draw at the Spa; we  came up dry, but took the win on how expertly we’d navigated to the correct side of the correct deck first time.
This left us an hour and a bit to rest and recover in time for our dinner in the main restaurant, where we had pre-booked the 18h30 sitting for the duration. Having splashed on the Dine & Drinks drinks package, we were soon doing exactly that. A lot too close to our feast at lunchtime, truth be told! Still, we soldiered through our 3 courses and a mix of white and red wines over our first meal experience in our allocated booth for dinners for the week.
Exhausted from the journey and pleased to be able to be horizontal for the night, we were soon ensconced in our respective cabins, welcoming the clean, smooth white linen and drifting off to the gentle rhythm of the motion of the ocean as our sea hotel moved on to the next port.
MONDAY
Since our itinerary had us spending a few nights on Gran Canaria at the end of the trip, we felt no obligation to splash out on any formal excursions on our first day. We did find a Hop On Hop Off bus for Las Palmas that stopped right outside the cruise port, which would be a wonderful way to get a low-effort lay of the land.
Indulging on an enormous multi-course buffet breakfast – rationalising that we would need to keep up our strength on the bus tour all day – we waddled off the ship to the bus stop.
The route was about an hour and a half in total and we were happy to view most of the spread-out sights in Las Palmas from the bus, with the audio guide filling in details about what we were seeing, as well as the usual factoids about the life and people of the place.
We learned that Las Palmas dates back to Neolithic settlers who lived in caves and was the first port in the Canary Island. It now sees more than a million passengers pass through every year, largely thanks to its reputation as ‘the City of Eternal Spring’ (around 18-26 degrees all year round) and having some of the best urban beaches in the world. Home to 400 000 people, it is the biggest city in the Canaries and the 9th biggest in Spain. It is also the sister city of San Antonio, Texas.
We did hop off the bus at the Las Palmas Old Town, to see the famous St Ana church and the charming square and cobbled streets surrounding it. It was a pleasure to enjoy the moderate early afternoon sunshine while absorbing the scenery.
When the bus returned to the quayside stop, we parted ways with the mothers, who were on the hunt for a bevvy, while we were eager to explore the La Isletta peninsular on foot. We discovered a bustling waterfront area with holiday-makers tanning and swimming in the bluer-than-blue sea, or eating and drinking at the many cafes that lined the promenade.
We decided we would return with the troops during our Gran Canaria stay at the end of our trip. The mothers were very pleased with our discovery and decision, when we found them very settled on Deck 11 and flexing their drinks package to create their own sundowner event. We had all adjusted quite well quite quickly to cruise life.
Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 10: Madrid

MADRID

21-23 September 2013

It was always one step forward, two steps back. On the bright side we found Atocha Station in Madrid surprisingly easily (once again without Google Maps); on the downside dropping the car off turned into a nightmare!

We found a petrol station right outside Atocha Station and filled up the car, as instructed. We had no problem finding the Europcar depot or passing the checks. The big fight started when Europcar wanted to charge me SIX HUNDRED Euros for the car when my total according to the online booking I did months prior was €278.

They were saying we had opted for insurance, we definitely did not – and distinctly said no – because the insurance was more than the rental and our online booking contract included the major theft/damage waivers so we didn’t actually need it. That brought the total to €400. Then they added a whole bunch of other admin charges like one way fees (already covered in our booking contract) and fuel surcharges (not applicable because we’d filled the car up).

Two hours of back and forthing, phoning the Barcelona depot where we got the car and the online agency that rented us the car etc until I eventually had had enough and asked for a complaint form. I put my sorry story on paper and told the man at the counter that they could call me when they had the correct paperwork ready and I’d come in to pay. Needless to say, despite a post on their site, a series of Tweets and an email to their central customer services, I still hadn’t heard from them. So, it was as yet unresolved, but all my correspondence stated they could not take a cent over €278 off my card so hoped like hell that they were consumer litigious like in the US and that was scary enough for them not to just deduct the €600!

Anyway, that was enough to ruin the first impression of Madrid, but fortunately there was much more to come.

We caught a taxi to our apartment since we were now very late to meet our landlady and there was no wifi at the station or Europcar office for us to reschedule. Fortunately, she was very understanding and showed us around our digs. While our entire apartment (bedroom, living room and bathroom) totalled about the size of my bedroom at home, the space was very well allocated and the flat newly upgraded and clean, so we were very pleased. And we could not have asked for a better location – a quiet street with a festive café at the bottom of the road, a small plaza at the top with a shop a restaurant and a pub and a short trot to all the action on Gran Via and surrounds, which is where we headed first.

It was early evening and the place was teeming with people! Restaurants and cafés full; wide pavements a throng of people moving in all directions. It made it slow-going to get anywhere and since we didn’t have a specific plan to get anywhere, we stuck with what always worked and entertained ourselves with caña, tapas and, for a change, a nice sit-down dinner with lasagne, seafood pasta and good Rioja.

SUNDAY

On Sunday morning we were once again grateful for Lonely Planet guide since there was, surprisingly, not a tourist office to be found. Having breakfasted at the apartment (boiled egg and soldiers) we planned on a vigorous sightseeing walking tour (of our own design), starting with the museums Christian wanted to see, then the a few key monuments and buildings, leisurely lunch and an evening of tapas touring.

Spanner in the works when we got to the first museum, the Museo Del Prado, only to find they have free entry in the afternoon from 17H00. Quite a saving on the usual €18. So we went to the next one, the Reina Sofia art musuem. Same story, free from 15H00.

Not to be deterred, we did a walk around and took in some of the other sights. The Puerto del Sol, which is where the city gates once stood and was now the official centre and “heart” of Madrid; the Plaza Mayor, which might be every bit as lovely as its Salamanca counterpart were we not so biased; down this road and that to churches, monuments, old buildings, arches, statues and fountains… stumbling across less famed treasures in between.

We of course stopped for the obligatory refuels and lucked out in crossing another aim of the day – an authentic Spanish paella – off the list quite by accident when we were served it as a tapas at Los Madroño in the Plaza del Angel and a huge bowl of it, also as a tapas, at Boñar de Leon on Calle de la Cruz Verde. Both recommendable depending whether its quality or quantity (respectively) that you’re after.

We returned to Reina Sofia and had no trouble gaining free access. Our primary mission was to see Picasso’s Guernika, so we went to that hall first and worked through the rest of the Picasso, cubists and Dali exhibits from there. Quite a thing to have seen such famous works up close – especially Guernika since it was so relevant to the regions we’d just visited.

We then made our way back to the Prado, but weren’t as lucky. The queue was out the door, round the corner and up the street. We made do with a photo of the statue of Velazquez outside (since it was the exhibit of his works that we’d primarily wanted to see) and went back to our informal wanderings.

Madrid is a great city for that. Even though it was criticised for being younger than most of the other main tourist cities in Spain, having only been capital since the 16th century and most of its buildings being from 19th and 20th centuries, there was a distinct elegance to its layout and a healthy enough representation of enormity and grandiosity to have us impressed! It had all the wide avenues and beautifully manicured street gardens to equal the most sophisticated European cities as well as a lively energy and the constant hubbub that gained the city its reputation for character and unsurpassed nightlife and entertainment. Madrid was not a city that never slept, but certainly one that didn’t sleep at night!

MONDAY

Monday, being our last day, we covered the other half of the city, starting with the Mercado Marvellas. Even though well after midday, lots of restaurants and cafés were only starting to open for the day – and even more were still shut tight. By sharp contrast, just as many people were drinking beer and wine as were drinking coffee and OJ!

The crowning glory of the day’s tour though was the Real Madrid stadium, Estadio Santiago Bernabeu, which is predictably enormous! Similarly sized to our FNB Stadium with a seating capacity of 90,000 people, it must cause chaos when there’s a match on seeing as the stadium is right in the middle of the city!

Last stop was a fond farewell caña and tapas (lomo, pork loin) at our corner pub. It was quite something to watch those barmen operate. The pub was about the size of my lounge (maybe 20 x 6m) with a wide bar counter running lengthways along the middle. The barman was on one side, with his hard tack and barrels behind him; the counter had tapas cases on it on one side, a sunken sink built in on the other and draught taps facing the barman in the middle.

There were customers sitting on barstools, standing leaning on the counter and milling about… and 1 barman serving the lot! And by serving it means taking orders, pouring drinks, serving the tapas, keeping tally of who has had what, sorting out bills and even washing glasses and tapas plates! One guy! It was amazing – and a little exhausting – watching him juggle everything! Maybe we’d been on holiday too long! 😀

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 9: Toledo

TOLEDO

20 September 2013

We must have gotten quite an amount of good luck from spotting the frog in Salamanca as our trip to Toledo started off with a nail-biter. We left Salamanca with 20km worth of fuel according to our digital fuel gauge and wrongly assumed there would be a service station on the outskirts of town. It was only with the dumbest of luck that we freewheeled through a little town about *thirty* kilometres from Salamanca… having been holding breath since the range number tripped to zero several kilometres earlier!

From there we could at least start to enjoy the scenery. Not that there was much to see as a drive through the Spanish heartland is akin to a drive through the Free State at home.

AVILA

We’d initially considered an overnight stop in Avila based on recommendation in the Lonely Planet guide, but it wouldn’t have been justified. The town is so small that it was easy to crisscross and see all the sights in half an hour (assuming you were happy with a “walk past” the churches and monuments and a few snappies of the prettier relics, as we were). It was definitely worth a stop though, since it was so well preserved and looked every inch a fairytale.

Its real history sounded a little more dramatic than a “once upon a time” though, tributing the foundation of the town to obscure Iberian tribes, who were then assimilated into Celtic society, Romanised, Christianised, changed hands regularly for 300 years, and then became an important commercial centre after Alfonso VI took Toledo in 1085. Things then got controversial with the nobles picking fights with the Muslims and in the imperial escapades in Flanders and South America, then expelling the Jews in 1492 and a century later trying to get rid of the Christianised Muslims. No wonder Tomas de Tourquemade chose to retire to Avila after organising the most brutal phase of the Spanish Inquisition!

The city walls, built in the 12th century were still perfectly preserved and offered a 2.5km walk including 2500 battlements, 88 towers, 6 gates, 3 wicket gates, the apse of a cathedral and a singular belltower. That was thirsty work! In a town with more than proportionate watering holes!  Had we not been driving, Avila would be lovely setting for a caña and a tapas, and there were many pavement cafés and restaurants that looked very alluring.

If we had done an overnight, it would have been nice to visit neighbouring Segovia, which is supposed to be just as wonderous but on grander scales with the extraordinary engineering of the 728m aquaduct and the Rapunzel-like Alcazar towers, turrets topped with slate witches’ hats and deep moat around (said to have inspired the Sleeping Beauty castle at Disneyland).

TOLEDO

The countryside changed quite radically when you entered the province of Castilla-La Mancha with its harsh dry southern plateau, as immortalised in the literary classic, Don Quixote. There was little else to see beside Toledo (its capital), so the region was often skipped by tourists.

I’d tussled for quite some time trying to figure out where we wanted to be based in Toledo. There are so many websites giving info and flogging accommodation that it was info overload and increasingly difficult to make decisions. Toledo was a tricky one since the town was contained within old city walls, nestled into a U of the Rio Tajo. This city particularly was known for the labyrinth-like maze of roads, so I logicked that this was one place worth sacrificing the authenticity staying in the old town and the beauty of a view of the river for the pragmatism of staying just outside the upper city gates, parking the car at the hotel and managing the rest on foot. Paydirt! I could not have done better as the town was super confusing, even with a map, and the roads were the kind you’d have to be born to navigate!

We stayed at the Hotel Martin, which could not have been better. Off the main drag but only one road from the Toledo old city gates, the hotel was rated (and priced) a 2 star, but our suite was big and beautifully decorated with white linens and curtains, wooden wardrobe and furnishings, a bathroom big enough to have a party in – and terraces off the bedroom and the bathroom. Add the location, big fluffy white towels, free toiletries and big flat screen TV and it was madness that we only paid R400 for the night!

Being about 17h00 by the time we were in and settled, we rationalised it best to leave the hard work tourist stuff for the next day and just focus on a dinner in the old town… but despite ourselves we got swept up on entry, approaching the Bisagra Gate with its triumphant arch flanked by semicircular towers, impressive imperial 2-headed eagle coat of arms, the insignia of the Golden Fleece… appearing as magnificently to today’s visitors as it did to visitors approaching from Madrid in 1550!

We’d been given a tourist map at the hotel so blended a “best of both” tour of our own, smattering some sights and cultural stuff in between a caña and tapas crawl (an art we’ve perfected) and even upping the ante with paying for a round of tapas since there were 2 local dishes I really wanted to try.

First was a Carcamusas de Toledo, a rich blend of pork cubes stewed in tomato and herbs that was equal portions tender and juicy – absolutely delicious. The second was a peculiar local favourite called Migas Manchegas that I was more curious about than anything – white bread lightly toasted fried in garlic and oil to make sort of croutons, served with diced sausage and ham and topped with a fried egg and bacon. The result was a sort of breakfast dinner.

We also managed to log a pint on our Guinness Index at an unexpected Irish pub called O’Brien’s, that was on the windiest, steepest street that was just begging for a wettie-stop when you were neither up nor down!

FRIDAY

Day 2 in Toledo was made that much easier since we already knew where everything was and what we wanted to visit (properly) AND we knew what and where we wanted to breakfast on – although we have adapted to Spain time, so breakfast was scheduled for midday!

We entered by the same Bisagra Gate – now fully appreciating what we were seeing – and up the entry road to the next attraction, the Puerto del Sol inner gate, built in the 14th Century and so named because of the sun and moon on its tympanum. There was a modern art statue in front of it that, from its label, claimed to be a bull. Personally I thought it was a load of bull because frankly it looked more like a big metal speech bubble!

First stop was the famous central square, Plaza Zocodover, to try and get an English tourist map, which we did. The legend made it easy to narrow our hit list. Nix the 7 museums, 4 churches, 4 convents, 2 mosques, 2 synagogue and a monastery and it was easy – 3 gates, 2 bridges and a Roman Baths (we could have had a partridge too since it was a local delicacy, but without the pear tree it was just a bony little bird really).

The bridges were so worth seeing! Enormous arched structures spanning deep gorges to connect the multi-volumed brick outer walls of the city to the green valley banks on the far side of the Rio Tajo, with high towers and arched gates flanking either side. It was quite a job getting up and down the slopes and stairs toward the gates, but perfect if you were working up an appetite for Salamanca Charcuteria, where you could get the *best* jamon bocadilla and lomo and chourizo pie, which was made like a Beef Wellington so the cheese melts into the pastry and the lomo is soft and tender.

Since we’d already done the gates, all that was left was to check out the Roman Baths, which turned out – bonus – to be a free exhibit. Beautifully preserved since the Romans had used cement to build them. This wasn’t the only ingenuity they’d used – they were really clever and had made all sorts of thermal aquaducts to heat the water for their steam rooms.

All said and done, Toledo was a ‘must do’ stop – and it was only 79km from Madrid so can easily be done as a day trip or overnighter.

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 8: Salamanca

SALAMANCA

19 September 2013

After a 314km uninterrupted drive from Coimbra, we were pleased to arrive in Salamanca – and the first impressions on driving into the town further warmed our welcome.

As usual, Google Maps had successfully guided us the bulk of the journey, but we once again found ourselves left hanging as we approached the town and found the directions for roundabouts and exits not matching up.  At least Salamanca was a less complicated layout though, with 4 bridges crossing the Rio Tormes on approach and most roads in the town directed toward the central square, Plaza Mayor (right upon which was the pension I’d booked us into). Rather than messing about, we parked the car in the first parkjng garage we saw (€14.40 a night!) and attacked the finer directions on foot.

It was really easy to find our accommodation (Pension Los Angeles) since it was literally on the Plaza Mayor, a little door wedged among the bars and restaurants leading to the apartments upstairs. The perfect location! Our en-suite room had a balcony overlooking the square. The perfect view!

Plaza Mayor, with its harmonious and controlled Baroque design, impressive size and symmetry, built-in matching City Hall and arcaded square, was noted as being the most beautiful in Spain – and this was fact, not opinion!  The Plaza was much bigger than others we’d seen (roughly 80 x 80m) and the combination of its “squareness” with uniform rows of balconied rooms mirroring each other and the monochromy of the use of golden-hued Villamayor stone (same colour and texture as sandstone) from floor to ceiling, would send poor old Gaudi into apoplexy! But the result was breathtaking and literally awesome.

Having garnered a tourist map from our landlord, we realised it wasn’t worth plotting a formal walking tour route around Salamanca as almost all the sites (all bar the Roman Bridge) were contained within the old city and there was something to see on almost every corner – although with 11 churches, 4 convents and 10 historically relevant mansions it can get a bit samey-samey.

Salamanca was home to the oldest University in Spain, founded in the 13th century, and most of the old buildings house university faculties museums. It was understandable why young people would relish spending time here – and their presence was definitely felt in the price and value offering of the glut of restaurants and bars and the overwhelming amount of entertainment options, more or less 24/7.

We did visit the one university building, the Universidad Civil, to do some “frog-spotting”. It is said that if you can spot the frog on the elaborately carved facade, then you’ll enjoy great luck. We both managed to see the frog… but with a little direction from the info boards!

Hard work aside, we were able to settle into an evening of tapas hopping…

  • Meson La Dehesa – baguette with jamon (cured ham) and Iberian cheese
  • O’Hara Irish Pub – kettlefried crisps, chourizo on baguette
  • Bambu – lasagne, bolognaise tortilla, sourdough with prawns on garlic cream, Iberian ham and sweet tomato pizza
  • La Perla Negra – no tapas, but a free boys Guinness t-shirt
  • Casa de Vinos Doctrinos – sourdough with lomo cabecero (combination of lomo and jamon) and Iberian lomo (marbled)
  • Catalina’s – bacon and cheese croissant and ham, cheese, cream cheese  and onion crepe
  • Cervesaria Gambrinus – (poor) sausage and quail’s egg on baguette; pork dumpling in phyllo
  • Disfruta de Todo  – jamon croquette
  • Irish Rover – crisps and a free girls Guinness t-shirt
  • Gastro Taberna El Reloj – calamari strips and tuna lasagne ; meat lasagne

All of the above served free with our orders of caña or fine local Rioja, never over €2!

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 4: Leon

LEON

14 September 2013

With a 2 and a half hour (265km) drive from Santander to Leon, we decided that we would break the journey with a stop en route. Originally planning on breakfast in Santander before handing the apartment keys over at 11h00, we were bemused to find that we were likely the only people awake in the city at 10h00, let alone a supermarket shopkeep or open kitchen in sight! Fortunately we had our trusty chocolate mousse protein shakes on hand, so good humour was still intact as we hit the road.

It was quite a straightforward route along the A-67 South, then the A-231 West, both of which passed directly through a number of small towns. Consulting the Lonely Planet guide, we selected Aguilar Campoo and put foot on the journey to get there.

AGUILAR CAMPOO

A small town of only 7700 people, Aguilar has been around forever and a day, being a settlement of the Cantabrians, the Romans and Visigoths, a bulwark during the Arab occupation in the 700s, and then being rebuilt, restored and expanded from 820 to become a very important town in the Middle Ages. King Alfonso X declared the site a Regal Town and the fiefdom of Aguilar de Campoo exercised jurisdiction over one of the most extensive territories of Castille at the time, stretching across current day Cantabria, Burgis and Palencia.

Long history aside, it’s a small town easy to circumnavigate on foot, best begun at the central Plaza de Espana where you can get a free local map. From the doorway of the tourist office you can already see 5 of the town’s 19 top sights! The most impressive of these is the Collegiate Church of San Miguel, elevated to the rank of Collegiate by Pope Paul III in 1541.

We had little interest in touring the town – and seeing the likes of its 120+ shields and coat of arms adorning palace fronts and house facades – until we had eaten, so we headed along the Paseo de la Cascajera running alongside the Rio Pisuerga which is lined with bars and cafés. We couldn’t find anywhere serving off menu – everything being pintxos and raciones, so we chose Nuevo del Rio to have a club sandwich (cheese, ham, egg, tuna) since it was the most substantial looking and ordered Cokes to accompany. The Cokes were served with a snack each – a long crunchy straw that looked like a springroll on the outside and turned out to have a prawn on the inside. Delicious!

We’d studied the map and the Medieval Castle on the hill overlooking the town was the only thing we wanted to see, so we walked down the Calle Modesto Lafuente which took us to the foot. A short steep climb had us at the Chapel of Santa Cecilia at the base of the Castle’s much steeper hill, so we made do with a photo and moved back to the car.

LEON

Leon was gorgeous! We got lost as we entered the town and – frustrated by a series of pedestrian roads blocking us from where we thought we needed to be – parked the car first opportunity. We found the tourist office to be closed so couldn’t get a map, didn’t have a street address for our destination and couldn’t find anyone who could speak enough English to understand our request for a payphone (messages not going through on cell phones).. and we still weren’t put off the town in the slightest!

We found help in a hotel where the receptionist spoke English, called our host to extract the street address and arrange our meeting. They even provided a tourist map and marked simplest route, easiest on foot through the old city.

We had 15 minutes to kill so stopped in the plaza closest our destination, which is called the “wet district” because it has the highest concentration of bars and restaurants in a very bar and restaurant intensive town! The bar we picked, at random, from the 12 or more choices clocked from our pivotal point in the centre of the small plaza, served our beer with a wedge of cheese and a strip of deep fried calamari each. Apparently this is a major cheese producing area, and the mild light white creamy cheese served bore testament that it was indeed their specialty!

We were in top spirits when we met our host, Fran, some 20 minutes later, having arrived at our square to find that it was equally beautiful to what else we’d seen of this wonderful old medieval town, with its authentic uneven cobbles on winding warren of streets, but with the added appeal of being alongside the monastery overlooking the central water fountain monument. A quiet square, with only 2 tabernas!

Fran was very pleased to see us and offered to walk us back to the car so as to navigate us to closer free parking. This chore doubled as an impromptu tour since we’d managed to park all the way across town (still only a 10 minute walk) and we passed almost all of the major sites en route. Fran’s English was about as good as our Spanish (which was coming on quite nicely, thanks to the in-car tutorials), but we managed to communicate quite effectively with slow simple speak and animated hand gestures (and Google translate for absolute fallback).

It was quick ‘n easy to find our digs, now that we knew how, and a free parking right outside Burger King seemed a good omen.

Our apartment was incredible. All the finishes were shiny and new and this apartment was an absolute bargain and highly recommended on facilities and location for anyone visiting Leon! It was enormous, with a living room (large kitchenette against the back wall, 4 seater granite table against the far wall, couch and big flat screen TV unit occupying the remaining space) as big as both our San Sebastian and Santander apartments combined! That, and a big bedroom also overlooking the square and a bathroom big enough to have a party in!

But partying in town was likely to be more fun, so we headed out.

It was very early by local standards, being around 17h00, so we took the opportunity to go back to the Tourist Office (that had reopened from its 2-5 siesta) to get a map and cover some of the sights. The first was a neo-Gothic Gaudi building (Casa de Botines) right opposite the tourist office, which delighted me since I fancied myself to be Gaudi’s newest fan.

Our whirlwind tour included all the Palacios (palaces), mercado (markets), plaza (squares) and Iglesias (churches) as well as a walk around the outside of the old city walls, admiring the merge of medieval inheritance with modern growth… and working up quite a thirst.

Beers were served in a variety of common sizes: corta couldn’t be much more than 100ml for €1.20, caña about 200ml for €1.60, cañon at 350ml for €2.20. They know about pints (pinta) but don’t stock the glasses because there is no demand. The only place that had was Molly Malone, which had Guinness pints as standard, for €2.50.

Leon followed the doctrine of free tapas tasters with drinks orders – no matter what size drink is ordered. We found caña to be optimal and spent the evening pub crawling by pinxos:-

  • Casa Miche – cheese and deep fried calamari
  • Cervesaria Gotica – baguette with cheese/jamon and jamon croquette
  • Molly Malone – corn, peanuts, olives and gum sweets
  • Jamon Jamon – sour dough, salchichon (greasy sausage), chorizo, cheese
  • Bar La Noria – deep fried mussels; patatas with jamon York (fried potato with wedges of boiled ham)
  • Enburidos Caseros – sourdough, chorizo, cecina (dried, uncooked, like biltong)
  • Nuevo Racimo De Oro – sourdough, chorizo, salchicon (and all served in a lovely cellar Bodega with original 2000 year old Romanesque walls!!)
  • Bacanal – homemade kettlefried crisps sprinkled with bacon
  • Taberna Orienta Media – chourizo server on a flaming skewer
  • Vinos Serveca – jamon and cheese on sourdough (seemed a bit dull after the rest)

We learned to pick and choose according to tapas offering. Bearing in mind we were ordering about 175 ml of beer at a time at an average of about €1.50 a pop… It was working out cheaper to feed-and-water in Spain than at home! We couldn’t work out how they make any money from customers with the decadent offerings and generous portions of the tapas, but a local in the one bar said it was a matter of bars being compelled to offer tapas to draw customers (locals flatly refuse to support tabernas that offer no free tapas). There was an endless number of options so competition was stiff despite the café terrado (party til dawn) lifestyle; the bigger and better the tapas, the more customers they attract. Especially the student market since Leon was also a major university town.

It would seem that this combination of choice, economy, locale and air of festivity made Leon Spain’s bachelor and bachelorette destination of choice and we encountered several groups in custom t-shirts with a comically-dressed guest of “honour”.

For such an old town, steeped in religious history as it was, even the churches were good sports and the churchbells mercifully only start their Sunday morning tolling at 11h00!