05/12/2016

Blind crabs in a lava tunnel: the Jameos del Agua

Lanzarote is a gem, if you ask the geological enthusiast. Or the flora/fauna - marine or mainland - enthusiast, for that matter.
Here we please both with the lava tunnel of the Malpaís (badland) de la Corona, or, 'the Tunnel of Atlantis'.

This tunnel is one of the most impressive geological oddities on Lanza. It originated some 20.000 years ago when la Corona volcano was active. The lava tunnel is, with a lenght of 8400 metres (yes, 8 km. plus!), the largest submerged lava tunnel in the world, ending way into the sea.
On the mainland the tunnel collapsed in places or accumulated gases blew the ceiling off, thus forming sink holes - in Lanza speak a 'Jameo' (the J pronounced G as in loch, see last photo).
You can thus trace the tunnel from the volcano on the mainland to the sea by searching for these Jameos (16 in total).

A famous part of this tunnel is the Jameos del Agua, near the sea and below sea level. The part accessible for visitors is i.a. an underground lake, filled with extraordinarily clear tidal sea water.
Nowadays the Jameos del Agua is (especially in marine life loving circles) famous for a tiny, blind albino crab that lives - undisturbed in absence of competition and predators - on the dark, rocky lake bed.
In no need to hurry and scurry they reshuffle every once in a while. The only threat comes from the coins people keep tossing into the lake.
This miniature crab - its pincers make up most of its size - originates from the deep sea.
Deep as in 3000 metres below sealevel.
Apparently nowhere else in the world but at the Jameos del Agua you can see this crab IRL.

Manrique saw the potential of the Jameos.
In the sixties he developed the place into a nightclub (!) with an underground pool, a restaurant, a bar that still features regularly in design magazines today and a concert hall: a natural auditorium in one of the caves (said to have wonderful acoustics).
Nowadays there's also a reception area and an exhibition room, but the underground gardens sloping steep towards the lake (also designed by Manrique, the gardens, that is) are still there.
You descend a large winding staircase through the tropical gardens, where a path is built towards the other side of the lake. You're in 'a bizarre lava-tube-cum-sixties-night-club' I read somewhere. Bang on.

The auditorium is normally crowded with visitors, but when we were there the hall was empty and I could sit alone in one of the seats and enjoy the silence, the view of the low, rocky ceiling and the bluish lit stage below.

Highly recommended. You're in for a wonderful experience.





















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