Ready for some whinging?
By the time December showed up like an unwanted house guest, I hadn’t seen sun for decades. My skin was so translucent, I nearly blended into the breeze and all joy was sucked out of me like a dementor. One can debate whether I’m dramatic.
I wanted to go somewhere in Europe over Christmas where I didn’t have to deal with visas or another currency. Remote work was also on the agenda so I needed a decent wifi connection.
The Canary Islands (part of Spain) seemed like my best bet so I had a little lookie loo online as to which Canary Island was “best”. I chose Gran Canaria because it is usually slightly hotter than the other islands- and I’m superficial like that.
After Las Palmas I planned to go to Maspalomas (an hour south by bus) because it is nearly 1 degree warmer than Las Palmas (nearly 1 degree, how can you be nearly 1 degree?). Can you feel my desperation for sun?
Although I went from December 15-29 there wasn’t really a Christmas market scene. I wandered a few streets that were supposed to be Christmassy and they weren’t. I’m not sure if I went to the wrong areas or if I missed them, but they didn’t exist in my eyes.
las palmas
The eastern coast of Gran Canaria is superbly connected by buses so you don’t need to rent a car. Originally, I wanted to rent a manual car and learn to drive on Gran Canaria (I can drive automatic, don’t get your knickers in a twist) but I chickened out in the end because of slopes and inclines. True story.
From the airport to Las Palmas you can take a number of buses that are easy to navigate, very straightforward, hard to mess it up. Except I panicked and messed it up- I got off a stop early so I had to walk 35 minutes to my hotel. I don’t know how that happened.
I was a bit shockethed to learn Las Palmas is a port-city surrounded by huge tanker ships, not the cleanest of water and those dinosaur looking metal cranes that live in a port.
There is an expensive (€27) Poema del Mar aquarium, which has the biggest salt water tank in Europe so that’s fun AND educational.
Mirador Casas de colores is a nice view point although a homeless guy smoking in the shadow of a building spooked me when I rounded the corner. Mirador de la Cruz viewpoint was fine.
My hotel was decent, located in the residential area a 10 minute walk to the Las Canteras Beach, that was chill.
eat.
They sold Magners cider in the SuperDino Sagasta so the cider sun gods were on my side. For two weeks, my well-rounded, balanced diet consisted of olives, jamon Iberico, bricks of queso (cheese) and these chocolate bars called Ambrosias Tirma. End of list.
The Ambrosias Tirma chocolate bars are best in the original milk chocolate pink package. The dark chocolate masks the subtle hint coconut that I do so enjoy in the original flavour. Good thing I didn’t buy a 12 pack of the dark chocolate ones just to try a bite.
Finding decent food in Gran Canaria is tough. I’ve never seen so many tourists jammed in one concentrated area before. Online, reviews for the food may be a bit misleading or overpriced for the quality/ portions.
There are a lot of British expats/retirees and they think brown sauce is gourmet so the reviews reflect their overzealous star rating mentality.
I had ropa vieja dish a couple times and it’s hardy.
One place that became my regular watering hole was Bar Bochinche Los Jamones. It’s on the cusp of the residential area and an absolute delight. Great atmosphere- they have huge open doors and windows that allow the chatter of people to pour out onto the street and the tapas are YUM.
I had these potatoes (papas arrugadas) that are forged in the fires of Mount Doom with a hint of salt. On top they had this non-spicy, smoky mayo type sauce, which blends with the spuds ever so nicely. The shrimp in garlic is top-notch notch and the churro batter fried fish sticks are a treat.
The wine was fab- I drank a full bottle a couple times just to make sure. Ordering in Spanish is best, but you can get away with some English and pointing- you’d never guess I had 5+ years Spanish lessons by the way I eloquently pronounced taypas.
Inside the market hall, I ate at Encurtidos Antequera. They sell baguette bites (bocadillos/bocatas). They were good. I had two of them and a wine for €8.50.
I ate churros for breakfast.
In Tirana, I ate at Ramen Shifu. The noodles were on the soggy side and the ramen could have used more broth. The bao bun was dry but I gave it a 4/5 on Google because the waiter was so sweet.
I have to say, that when certain locations get too many good Google reviews I think they’re being a bit greedy. Save some for the rest of us!
Before departing Gran Canaria, Pastelería Di Nardi was one of the few places open at 08:00 that did take-away sandwiches for me to bring on the plane. They were delightful.
Conclusion: I need to start buying more wheels of cheese. What a fool I’m to be buying chunks or wedges.
cheap.
When I was young and wild and free, I always sorted accommodation by price, and ended up staying in some doozy’s because of my choices. I have grown since then, and now look at things other than prices. The accommodation I booked months in advance in Maspalomas was a 7.9/10 on Booking and a 3.8/5 on Google. Keep this in mind.
While in my local watering hole I spoke with a retired expat who lived on the island and he told me Maspalomas was the party part of the island similar to Ibiza. In a desperate, pleading voice knowing it would disrupt my 22:30 bed time, I whispered “I don’t want to party”. Keep this also in mind.
I took the bus to Maspalomas eager for that partial degree of extra sun. Looking through the bus window as we drove through the area, I thought to myself I don’t care for this. Hotels and accommodation were crammed together, reminded me of the retiree compounds/communities of Florida. I’ve never seen them before, but there was an episode of Seinfeld so it’s like I have.
I got off at the stop by THE mall. THE mall, as in this infamous mall that turns into LGBTQ++++++ nightclub. Don’t ask.
After walking 15 minutes I get to my overpriced (nearly €100 per night) accommodation called Tagoror Beach Apartments and thought I don’t care for this.
The front desk person informs me that the door locks at 21:00, but a security guard is there from 21:30 onwards. Not sure why we need a security guard if the doors are locked, but okay.
Do you see where this is going?
I go to press the elevator button, and hear the machine struggling to carry the empty weight of the elevator, then the doors open. I hesitated getting in, thinking the stairs would be safer, but then I heard yelling on the stairway so I got into the elevator. These few sentences should tell you everything you need to know about the standard of this accommodation.
Walking along the corridor to my room, on my right, I see the pool pictured on Booking- it looked fine, but it was in the shade most of the day so no one was using it. I opened the door to my mini-apartment, placed my bag down by the couch and realised I didn’t want my belongings or myself to be touching anything in the room. It wasn’t dirty per say but it was old, worn-down and grungy.
While contemplating what was safe to touch, I was distracted by the loud commotion outside- people talking, cars driving past, delivery trucks pushing carts- so I went to close the door to the balcony only to discover that everything was closed. All windows, all doors. I was hearing the sounds of non-existent insulation.
In the immortal words of Shiana Twain “that doesn’t impress me that much”.
After sending some voice notes to my friends debating what to do, I decided to give Maspalomas a shot. Wander around. Get some food. Maybe rent a car to drive manual. False. None of these things brightened my spirits. The dunes were fine, but everything was made for tourists so I didn’t feel like I was in Spain at all.
By the time I got back to my accommodation, I had listened to my friends voice note saying “I couldn’t hear you, you must be walking near a busy highway” when in fact I was inside my accommodation when I sent the voice note.
When I don’t laugh, you know it’s bad. I was not laughing.
This place was giving me halfway house vibes so after leaning my backpack against the door (all good that would do if someone tried to break in), I tried to go to sleep with my noise cancelling headphones blasting baby sleep music, huddling my beach towel like a security blanket, but I STILL heard noise.
I “woke up” at 04:00 on December 24 to book another hotel. I was in such a disillusioned state that I considered whether I could fake being a lesbian to get into the LGBTQ++++++ only hotel nearby. I decided against it and instead booked a hotel in Tirana, part of Las Palmas. Back to the part of the island that I started at.
Hours later I went to Puerto de Morgan and then checked out of the halfway house at 15:45. The front desk person didn’t ask why I was checking out at 15:45. Didn’t bat an eye. Feeling like I needed to say something about the state of the apartment, I told her that I actually booked 2 more nights, but I didn’t feel comfortable staying.
She said “oh okay” and took the keys from me.
My guess was that it wasn’t the first time this has happened.
The place I booked in Tirana over Christmas for €30 more a night was delightful. I drank, ate and read by the pool on Christmas. I got sun-burned and never felt so alive.
travel.
- Firgus
- Arucas
- Galdar
- Tejeda
These places are all mentioned on some bloggers’ lists or someone on the island recommended them to me, but I didn’t go to any of them.
The two places I did go to on purpose- Puerto de Mogan and Teror- took me longer to get to than it did to explore the area. Typical champagne problems, complaining about a village not being exciting enough, but it brought into question if these little day trips I was doing were worth it.
Conclusion: on Gran Canaria, they are not.
Puerto de Mogán
After the disaster of Maspalomas, I was hoping to salvage things by going to Puerto de Mogán. It looked cute. I caught an 08:00 something bus from the Maspalomas highway and arrived at 09:35. The old town is very small, a three-streeter town so I technically finished exploring the old village at 09:54.
I ate a pack of Iberico jamon on a bench by the water for a bit, went to the view point, saw the crowded cove, went to the supermarket to get an icecream, then caught the 12:10 bus.
All in all, about 2.5 hours spent, but after seeing the village and viewpoint I could have been done after 45 minutes. It is super cute though.
Teror
Teror. Another frightful place where it took me longer to get there than it did to mosey around. Teror is a one-streeter town.
Randomly, this was where I saw the most Christmas swag- they had a little courtyard of tacky stuff and a little nativity scene indoors. They were both free, but the latter accepted donations. Since I’d been Grinchin around, I thought I’d dig deep into my pockets and give a couple Euros.
I did get a good bocadillo (sandwich) here from a stand on the street. I think it was chorizo pate.
follow the sun
If you are looking for sun in Europe in December, the Canary Islands fit like the elder wand in Harry’s hands. Lows of 18, one day of rain ish, 25 degrees average, high of 28. Not too shabby.
For anything other than sun in Europe in December, I don’t recommend the Canary Islands. Probably one of my least liked places in all my travels.
My friend did a cruise around the islands and said Tenerife sounded similar to Gran Canaria, but Fuerteventura has the best beaches- clear waters and is the nicest island that she saw. So maybe you’re better off going there, if at all.
