Casper in Architectural Wonderland

'Wow, wow, wooow!' The conversation was a tad limited as we strolled through town today. The place was sleepy in a beautiful Sunday sort of way. The Canarians really do know how to do Sunday well - none of this Sunday trading nonsense, nope, Sundays are not for shopping, but more for strolling, chewing the cud over endless tiny cups of coffee, wheeling the new baby/ies around (today we saw a tandem pram), eating an infinate number of courses over a verrrry loooong luuuunnnnnch. Casper was in architectural heaven (and so was I) as we entered the old town, deliciously quiet and strangely empty. Every building facade is different. Each decorated, mostly colourfully - pink, blue, yellow and none of those timid pastel shades, here we like BOLD. Old gothic features sit comfortable next to stark new interventions. It's brave and it works. The old town is a tad crusty which absolutely adds to its charm. I feel embarassed that we so nearly missed this, that we almost dismissed Las Palmas because the port was, what? ugly? slightly seedy - what did we expect? We will now be staying a few more days...

Chasing the wind

The sea is oily calm, for hours, before it starts to pockmark with the promise of a breeze. Everywhere we are it seems the wind is a little further off. We've raided Impulse's wardrobe to try every possible combination of light air sails, all of which have names that should feature in a Harry Potter book - the Reacher, the Screecher, the Monster. It is only a matter of minutes before each sail insists on embracing the mast and spreaders. We lower the engine and motor towards an elusive patch of wind. Finally a breeze! Ah but - it is coming from where we are going or rather want to go.
I say 'If the wind were a person it would be diagnosed as having a borderline personality disorder - constantly shifting, relentlessly unreliable, shockingly unstable'. But then everything changes because the wind sets in from the right quarter and we enjoy a fabulous sail straight in to Las Palmas de Gran Canaria. Just like a person, the wind can be shocking one minute and you hate it, then it acts nice again and all is immediately forgiven.
The rumour mill was wrong about Las Palmas.. it's not so bad! It's a big marina and busy with people doing stuff. We are outside at anchor just off the beach. As the day fades into darkness the sprawling capital is transformed. The orange glow of the urban lights gives it a softness which daytime cannot. Faceless windows become theatres of life as lights switch on in offices and homes. I'm glad I'm not in it that city, but to watch it from the comfort of our home, nudging at its anchor chain, bobbing about, its all quite charming.
It's funny, I feel our attitude has changed to this cruising lark. No longer compelled to sightsee we spend much more time on the boat and entertain ourselves with other cruisers rather than going ashore. One such cruiser is Vijay - I tell you what, he's a character with his super tippy dinghy and supermarket bag for a wallet.
Tomorrow promises no discernable wind so we will go in search of widgets, mostly.

HAPPY 2010!

For once in the Canaries, we are waiting for wind. Just at the Northern end of Fuerteventura, the lively town of Corralejo is our temporary base. The sea is glassy and only disturbed by the whitewash crests that thunder across the volcanic reef in the distance. When the breeze sticks we will head southwest, close to Fuerteventura's sandy coastline and around the southern tip of Gran Canaria before heading northwest to La Gomera to fill our tanks with sweet sweet water from the mountain and our lockers with fresh provisions. This is the plan and is naturally likely to change. Hopefully we shall catch some fish (now that all that boasting has ended).