'Cities' on Lanzarote , and a very special church

The concept of 'city' on Lanzarote needs reconsideration. The only 'real' city on this tiny island is it's capital, Arrecife. Teguise is considered a city as well. In our eyes it was a small village.

Mancha Blanca isn't even a small village. It is a couple of streets with loosely strewn houses along them. So not the 'charming little city' the tourist guide spoke of, although charming it is.
Really large though is the space around the famous Lanzarote pelgrimage Church: Nuestra Sigñora de los Dolores, Our Lady of the Pains (or Sufferings).

The Church is built on the exact spot where the lava of the destructive 1824 volcanic outburst stopped - thus sparing the village. Hence the church - and now people from all over the island visit the tiny, whitewashed church each year on september 15th, in celebration of the Virgin of the Volcanoes.
Since the church cannot possibly house all these pilgrims a large open space is created next to the church to host everyone attending the feast.

The church is a beauty.
World wide famous churches tend to be huge and impressive with lots of beautiful stained glass windows, paintings, frescos and famous persons buried in them.
But let's never forget the small, tiny and seemingly insignificant ones.

Like this square built, unobtrusive little building, with funny little cubelike extensions. From the outside nothing special but then you enter it - as if they recreated lava bubbles. A very round, white plastered roof, and the altar under the tower built as round as - well, yes, a lava bubble.
In it a beautiful Madonna, white faced, wearing a dark, gold embroided mantle worn as the Spanish mantilla. Around her beautiful bouquets of fresh flowers - I've not seen flowers growing on the island yet.
The church was quiet, and it was so restful to hear the occasional voices of people outside speaking to each other drifting in the silence of the church.
We sat there simply enjoying the quiet. A lovely place it is.

Lovely Teguise and the saltcrusted fish. And the saffron sauce. And...

Teguise: a quiet, sunlit village with an endearing square, a very old Spanish church and an interesting restaurant: Atecife, said to be the oldest 'Bodega' on the island. Think Spanish, huge ceilings, cool, dark, solemn. Exactly the place where we wanted to be and have lunch.

We sipped a white Bermejo (pronounced Bermecho, with a ch as in loch) while waiting for our fish in a salt crust. Before that two very tasty entrees: For Pieter jamon con figues: cured ham - and trust the Spanish to make the perfect ham - with fresh figs braised in palm sugar and something definitely alcoholic - absolutely delicious. For me scrambled eggs with gambas, mushrooms and smoked salmon, I've seen it often on the menus and it was very good (do try this at home!).

Then the fish in salt crust. First time ever we ate it and what a feast it was.
Pieter filmed the whole operation of the Boss attacking the salt crust and filleting the fish.
The Boss, owner of the restaurant, did his utmost to make this as spectacular as possible: with theatrical flourish he drove his knives once and again in the white salt mass to reveal the soft, slow cooked fish within.
The fillets of fish were served with a saffron sauce I'd die for. So tasty, so creamy, and so considerate to place an extra jug of this gorgeous sauce next to my plate...
Accompanied with peeled potatoes and rice, both considered veggies over here.

We sat there for what felt like hours. We felt so rich, being able to eat such fantastic food in such an old and beautiful restaurant. Go there - but not in the tourist season - and you'll be pampered like royalty.

We spent the warm afternoon visiting shops that people in the village had recommended us, had long and interesting talks with their owners and left to have a look at another 'beautiful city': Mancha Blanca, with a famous pelgrimage church. That's for the next blog, though!

Lanzarote: A wonderful museum, ocean views and EU-money

Islands have a whopping amount of coastline. And seaviews: on any elevation on Lanza you could see the sea at least in two different directions. It was comforting as well. You were never far away from whatever place you wanted to visit next - the sign posts didn't give more than 35 km. distance - at most!

On our way to the north west we drove through San Bartolome, a quiet, small Spanish town where we suddenly spotted the Museo Etnografica Tani. When your significant other is an anthropologist this is a must see of course.
It was one of the most interesting museums I've ever seen.

We entered one of the largest houses on the island. First we saw how they dealt with the lack of water: five cisterns, three of them still in use!
Then you enter a centuries old house, filled to the brim with everything (like in: everything) the Lanzarote people used in the old days trying to scrape a living from this barren land.

The whole place was stacked with utensils. The floors, the walls, the stairs, even the ceilings hung full of unknown objects, some of them we could figure out what they were used for - and some very smart things too - and others we just gaped in awe, clueless as to what they were meant for. We weren't allowed to take pics, but before we were told that I made some (and didn't delete them, sorry, museum) so check out for yourself.
Whenever you go to Lanza, go to this museum. It's amazing.


After that we headed for the north western part of the island where the ocean thundered onto the land, where we all of a sudden we found ourselves on a road like you'd expect in Bahrein or Dubai. Think desert and a brand new six lane highway. Adorned with fancy palm trees - remember, the island is originally treeless, every tree is imported - and lots of parking spaces. Ehh?

Definitely EU-money.
And some smart developers taking their chance.
They, the smart developers, had started to built a marina. It was half finished, and now used as a swimmingpool. The buildings next to it (designed to become fancy apartments) were mere concrete skeletons. Greyish blocks with inactive cranes above them. It all screamed crisis.

And next to that - an immense, white, multi-floored, five starred hotel. La Santa Sport. Swimmingpools, lush gardens, terraces and all. A complex built for sportsmen, we found out later. Inside training rooms, spas, the works.
Please note: from this massive and no doubt very expensive complex you couldn't see the ocean.
The hotel was in fact built with it's back towards the glorious ocean view.
And this ocean was one of the most impressive views we've ever seen.

We rounded the huge complex and got onto a small peninsula. This tiny, weedy patch of land was clearly to be developed later: the roads were already there. Nothing else though, apart from a view to the ocean I'll never forget. We stood gaping at it, battered by the winds, for I think at least half an hour. This was nature at it's best.

'Flor de sal' from Lanzarote. About Canary food: how to make bienmesabe

At the southern point of Lanzarote you'll find a saltworks: an original, centuries old one, still in use, of which the Lanzaroteans are extremely proud. It's huge and not exactly meant for tourists wandering around the sawah-like landscape. To accomodate visitors they've built a huge corrugated iron shed, and in the door opening stood a small table with the local produce.
So I treated myself --- bought a wonderfully tasty fleur de sel (flor de sal, Spanish isn't that difficult)  and in total a kilo of their coarse seasalt, packed in beautifully designed small boxes - great for gifts!

The view at the Salinas towards the ocean is rightly famous: the ocean rolls in and beats against high basalt cliffs, the spray flying over the cliffs on the rocks behind them. The waves are of the clearest, most wonderful bright-blue. Even from hundreds of metres away you hear the thundering ocean, all in all very impressive.
There is a road leading to the beach near the basalt cliffs but unfortunately we haven't found it yet.

We were charmingly (ie. not too persistently) lured into a restaurant called Mar Azul.
Two in the afternoon - these Mediteranean eating times are spot on for us - a terrace, shielded from the trade winds by glass panelling, view to the volcanic beach and some 50 metres away from the same, bright blue, foamy white ocean.
We had ordered paella and waited contentedly for the rice to be ready while sipping a Malvesia Seco, our first culinary discovery. We only know the Malvesia (Malmsey in English, Malvezij in Dutch) as a sweet dessert wine but here they served a sort of pre-Malvesia: a dry, friendly, uncomplicated white wine with a strong hint of the Malvesia it becomes in the sweet version.

The paella was a true feast. The balance between saffron and other herbs, very fresh clams, calamari, mussels (a 7 cm. large shell with a tiny, lovely briny mussel in it!) and lots of other shellfish.
The food was clearly home cooked, clearly prepared on the spot with quality ingredients: true slow food and we loved it.

Talking about food (fav. subject!).
When you think of the Canaries the first that comes to mind are the mojo's.
They're famous: cold sauces made of oil, vinegar, hot peppers (the mojo picante), sweet peppers (the mojo rojo, red), and two green mojo's: the mojo verde with parsley and the mojo cilantro (coriander). You get them with every meal and we've never ever seen them outside the islands.

Then there are the papas arrugadas, the potatoes cooked in their skin in very salty water, so the little, waxy spuds look like wrinkled little things with a lot of salt on them but you've never tasted anything better. Served with the mojos, of course. Great as a tapas as well.

Meat is hardly served in Lanzarote. No climate for breeding cattle - we haven't seen a single patch of grass on the island. Perhaps in the past the people kept goats, and they used camels and mules to get around - but I don't think they ate them.
So it's all seafood. The freshest imaginable. They pull them out of the sea, chuck them on the grill and serve them, high piled on a plate. With papas arrugadas and mojo's. And a dab of sweet, buttery, long grained rice.
Comfort food. To have to eat that for the rest of your life wouldn't be a punishment!

And the sweets! Spain is masterly when it comes to anything sweet, the Mediterranean sweet tooth combined with the strong Arabic influence. And here they have the bienmesabe, the sweet honey-almond spread, most times coupled with icecream for dessert.
Bienmesabe originates from Venezuela, reached the Canary Isles and is now widespread in Spain.
Ground white almonds, sugar, water, a bit of ground cinnamon, lemon zest and egg yolks. That's it. You put the ingredients, except the egg yolks, in boiling water, reduce the heat and stir till you have a grainy sauce. Let it cool, add the egg yolks, bring it to the boil and let it cool again. You eat it when cooled to room temp. Try this, and you'll love it.

Back to our lunch. We shared the terrace with Spaniards, mainly couples from Madrid - it's a two hour's flight from Spain's capital and you're at the fresh and unspoilt Ocean, instead of in a highrise at some Costa.
Would do the same!