The Canary Islands
3 months ago I had never heard of the Canary Islands. When I first read the name, I pronounced it Can-ary Islands, like the John Steinbeck novel Cannery Row. And now I find myself in the middle of my third week of living on the island of Gran Canarias of the Canary Islands. I have since learned that the English pronunciation of this collection of Spanish islands off the coast of West Africa is Ca-nar-y Islands.
Originally, the first month and half of my world travels was to go as follows: be in New York for Kristen’s birthday, fly to Amsterdam, bop around Europe before I meet with my aunt Gomo, hike the Camino de Santiago with Gomo, then bop around Western Europe for maybe a week or two before I go back to the states in early November. Then I realized that my parents had a trip to Italy in early December. Only one more month I needed to find a way to stay. My budget didn’t allow for me to be in Europe for an additional month, but also, how often were my parents and I going to be in Europe at the same time? This is where previous travel experience came in handy. Traveling internationally allowed me to exchange stories with the people I came across, to learn how they ended up in the same destination as me, miles away from our respective homes. When I did a Spanish immersive program in Costa Rica, my class consisted of a Canadian retired nurse, Swiss English teacher, American former WhatsApp coder, and an 18 year old German girl traveling Latin America before starting university. She was using the work exchange platform, Workaway, to financially support herself. Remembering her story, I decided to look into work exchanges to also extend my budget. I originally looked into surf camps and hostels in Portugal since their western coast was the only area of Europe that I knew to be well-known for their surfing. I filtered my searches by “top-rated hosts”, and keyword “surf” to apply for every Portugal based opportunity that received high reviews from previous work exchange participants. Not hearing back from any of the applied opportunities after a few days, I decided to expand my search by changing the Portugal filter to Europe. More opportunities appeared on a place called the Canary Islands. The descriptions included pictures of people surfing and that there were surfboards available for sue. I researched on YouTube and Reddit and found some but a minimal information about the waves and consistency of surf. The first hostel that responded to me looked clean, was right on the beach, and had great reviews both from the perspective of guests and other work exchange volunteers, so I said f it, and decided to commit. If it allowed me to extend my budget and be by the beach, I was open to whatever the island that I knew nothing about would have in store for me.
The dry, 86 degree heat that greeted me when I got off the Gran Canarias bus was comforting, reminding me of the sun I knew in Southern California. During the ten minute walk from the bus station to the beach, I noticed that the only people that had AirPods or any headphones in were those on a run. No one seemed to be preoccupied as they sat on benches or strolled to their destination. Lanes and sidewalks dedicated to pedestrians and cyclists that made walking in this Spanish island feel safe. Bright blue, orange, and even pink buildings lined the mainly one way streets. None of these buildings seemed to be more than five or six floors tall, giving the city a cozier feeling. The only traffic you found was on the main roads and highways that had a surprising amount of roundabouts. This was beneficial for the environment and locals but difficult for visitors like myself who didn’t have a chance to pause and verify with google maps on what turn we were supposed to make.
On the promenade, people of all ages walked around with sunglasses and skimpy swimsuits, exposing their sun bronzed bodies, too free and relaxed to care about dressing modestly in this beach city. I saw folks enjoying two euro beers at the outdoor cafes still sandy from sunbathing, bodyboarding or playing volleyball on the sand. Locals and vacationers dressed as comfortably and casually as they wished without caring about what others wore. There was no pretentious aura that I felt when I had previously been in the bigger and more metropolitan cities. Everyone was here to enjoy and appreciate the ocean’s beauty.
When I was traveling without my aunt, feelings of doubt and loneliness would creep up to remind me that I was thousands of miles away from anyone I knew. I also was still unsure of where I would be in a year, or even next few months, both literally and metaphorically. My previous seven years were spent surrounded by the most goal orientated, and career driven people who trained me to constantly strive for productivity and efficiency in every aspect of my life. I was unable to shut off this mindset that I had developed. I felt guilty for traveling, having fun, and not really “building” any of the skills that would be fiscally beneficial. For everything that I bought, I could not help but calculate how my bank account decreased and would not replenish.
The sound of the ocean waves crashing seemed to wash away all the subtle anxiety that had lingered. I had not even arrived yet at the hostel but the ocean already made me feel like I was home. The ocean was and is my sacred place. Whether I am at Newport Beach, Costa Rica, or here in the Canary Islands, it is the same ocean that is the healer in bringing me peace. The same waves will always crash to remind me of the importance of the present.
My days here will typically include a rooftop workout or run, completing my work shift, being in the ocean, eating a family volunteer meal, and sharing life stories over wine and joints out on the terrace for sunset. On one weekend, two of the other volunteers and I took a vacation from our “work.” We visited a coffee and wine plantation and spent the night in Finca, the mountainous region more in the middle of the island. Fun fact, the Canary Islands is the only place in all of Europe that produces coffee beans. None of the other climates or natural environments in the rest of Europe allow for the growth of coffee beans.
I have not been able to surf nearly as much as I would have wanted to. When I signed up for this opportunity, I dreamed of surfing at least once, maybe twice a day. I was reminded that with both traveling and surfing, you can’t expect your expectations to be met. The waves here are rough, choppy, and not as consistent as I would have liked. It also has not helped that for the past week, the conditions have consisted of strong winds mixed with 6-12 feet waves, a formula that results in me fearing for my life if I try to surf. I foolishly thought that just because I was traveling to a surf spot with the intention of surfing, I would catch my best waves like the last time I went on a surf trip in Costa Rica. I would say that nine out of ten of the guests at the hostel do go out surfing at least once during their stay. And out of these nine surfing guests, seven of them are using a surfboard for the first time during their stay.
This is one of the reasons why the Canary Islands have reminded me of being the Hawaii for Europeans. The majority of the guests I meet at the hostel are Europeans who are either from landlocked countries like Germany, wanting to escape the cold for a sunny island paradise. And never having the opportunity to surf prior, they decide to top off their quintessential beach vacation with surf lessons. No shame at all towards these guests. I was this guest as well when I visited Hawaii. Like Hawaii, the Canary Islands is a collection of islands formed by volcanoes that all have their different characteristics and landscapes. I’m on Gran Canarias, but the other popular islands are Fuerteventura, Tenerife, and Lanzarote. Based on conversations that I’ve had with other people who have visited or live on the islands, Gran Canarias and Tenerife seem to be the most populated and established tourist islands like the Maui and O’ahu. Then if people want more green and uninhabited natural landscapes like in Kauai, they can visit the less populated islands like Lanzarote or La Palma.
The part of Gran Canarias that I am on is dry, like the Mediterranean climate that I’m used to in Orange County. I am based in the northern side of the island in La Palmas, which is where more of the locals and energy of the city. There are plenty of bars, restaurants, and even small festivals where you rarely hear people speaking English. The southern side of the island is full of resorts to cater to families and guests seeking more of the all-inclusive relaxed experience. The days are usually in the mid 70s, with occasionally cooler days in the high 60s or warm days in the 90s. The outfit you’ll most likely find me in if I’m not wearing a swimsuit is shorts and my black cropped athletic tank. I’ve worn a jacket maybe twice during my time here. This consistent weather throughout the entire year makes the appeal again similar to Hawaii. I forget that it is the end of October, and that in the rest of Europe and states, fall is here.
