South Gran Canaria and Arguineguin

In which Doris has time to think while driving Shugi southwards.

Sid is still a bit hors of combat so while we wait for the Miraculously Available All-Night Eardrops to take effect, Doris is in charge of Shugi’s manual six-speed gearbox.

With any luck Sid is not reading this, as Doris does feel a bit like the joke about the American who hired a car in the UK and when they took it back, complained that it juddered horribly when setting off and whined like mad when cruising at motorway speeds.  Turned out they had done the entire journey in 3rd gear.  Shugi’s box is gently sprung towards 3rd/4th, leading to the discovery that it is perfectly possible to set off in 3rd and also to change from 5th into 4th at motorway speeds.  No harm is done, to box/clutch or other innocent motorists.

Sid and The Speaking Phone takes over the navigation, about which the less said the better.

The description of Gran Canaria is: “a continent in miniature… ranging from the green and leafy north to the lush mountain interior and the desert south.”  Our new itinerary allows us to explore “the desert south” today, go up into the lush mountain interior on New Year’s Day and then drive through the green and leafy north to reach the next ferry on the 2nd.

There is a perfectly well-constructed motorway (the GC-1) linking Las Palmas at about 1 o’clock to Areguineguin at about 7 o’clock but motorways are not really very Epic so Doris plans to use the slightly higher GC-100  from Jinamar to Aguimes.  It is twiddly but not as you might say scenic.  THIS IS SOUTH EUROPEAN SCRUFFY comments Sid loudly and he is completely correct.  Still, we tried.

Random thought 1: Have I mentioned butter in this blog?  It is one of the mysteries of hotel buffet restaurants, because it does not fit obviously into their usual division of hot food/cereal/juices/cold meats and cheese/breads.  Once you have found it, you can communicate it to your fellow travellers: “Today, butter is cereal because it is next to the milk”.  This reminds me of a conversation I had in our local supermarket: “Is Marmite a sauce?” “No, Marmite is a jam although Bovril is indeed a sauce”.  I guess this will make more sense if you know what Marmite and Bovril are.

Random thought 2: Bothy McWeevil, proprietor and promotor of the famous Thistle Garden would have died and gone to heaven if he could have seen how these cactus gardens are being successfully promoted.

Random thought 3:  Why are people called tourists when they don’t tour?  The holidays on offer in the Canary Islands are not tourism, they are mostly somewhere-else-ism.  I guess that doesn’t have the same exotic ring to it.

Random thought 4: When we checked into tonight’s hotel, they said that they were offering two sittings for the New Year’s Eve Gala Dinner, one starting at 17:30 and one at 19:45.  Unfortunately… she looked at us sadly… one of them is already full… the early one is… NOT AVAILABLE.  We realised we had been holding our breath. Who wants to finish their dinner by 19:30 on New Year’s Eve?  Do you get a lot of German tourists here, we asked? (famous for starting eating dinner at 18:01, your German). Scandinavians, she replied.  Unexpectedly, there is a Norwegian Church just round the corner from the hotel.

Random thought 5: The Spanish just adore cheesy Christmas music.  No song is so famous, classical, beloved or simple archetypically Christmassy that it can’t be improved by singing it in a different style (swung perhaps, or crooned) and replacing many of the lyrics by “Feliz Navidad”.  There’s something about the cadence of those five syllables that allow them to fit anywhere.  Away in a Manger?  Fits like a charm: Feliz Navi-i-da-ad, Feliz Navidad” sung Frank Sinatra style.  In order to counterbalance this particular potential ear worm, I offer you instead my favourite and unjustly obscure Christmas song, the Christmas Conga. Bonga bongo bonga!

Anyway, here we are at the Hotel Bull Dorado, and Shugi is gingerly parked on a rather rocky local sand lot (see, we said it was South European Scruffy).

The room is exactly what the one in Las Palmas should have been like, with the unexpected inclusion of a well-equipped kitchenette, chairs of many sizes to sit on, and of course a view of the sea.  The hotel has decent and varied food, lots of different public areas, a spa area with unrestricted access, a rooftop solarium. Honestly, the travel gods were shining on us when this became available.

We will sign off now until 2025.  Because tonight we (or at least, Doris) will be staying up for the ceremony of the Twelve Lucky Grapes. Here is the description from Wikipedia, complete with their illustration:

“The Twelve Grapes of Luck is a Spanish tradition that consists of eating a grape with each of the twelve clock bell strikes at midnight of 31 December to welcome the New Year. Each grape and clock bell strike represents each of the coming twelve months. This tradition came originally from Christian biblical traditions but was greatly popularized in 1909 [when] some Alicantese vine growers spread this custom to encourage grape sales.”

Oh Bothy, Bothy, you could learn so much from these people.  Bong, bong, bonga!