Lanzarote

Ros Ailither at sea

Katie bravely standing on the boom

It took us four nights and three-and-a-half days to cross from Rabat to the Canary Isles. We had hardly any wind so did a lot of motoring and a little bit of sailing when the breeze picked up. The sea was calm enough for the children to swing around the mast, and Katie was brave enough to climb up and out on the boom, and be lowered over the side on the swing - at sea!

sailbag hideaway

Katie hanging over the sea!

We sighted land on the fourth morning and since the weather was so calm, we decided to head for la Graciosa, the tiny island to the north of Lanzarote. The whole island is a nature reserve and renowned for its clear-water diving. You are only allowed to anchor in one spot, Playa Francesca, and we first had to go to the main harbour, Caleta del Sebo, to get a permit to anchor. And that is as far as we got!

It was Sunday, so no officials were in the port office. We were tired from the trip so were content to sit at the local beach and watch the children play. Reuben was happy building sandcastles, and Katie befriended a Spanish girl. Despite neither speaking the other’s language, they were soon happily playing together in the water. We just lapped up the stunning scenery – looking across to Lanzarote opposite, you could almost ‘see’ the lava still flowing down the mountainsides.

north coast of Lanzarote

beautiful swirls of erosion on the mountain, Graciosa

La Graciosa is almost cut off from the rest of the Canary Isles. It is separated from Lanzarote by a narrow stretch of water called ‘El Rio’, but whereas la Graciosa is low-lying, apart from four volcanic mountains, the shoreline of Lanzarote is very steep-to. The people of la Graciosa apparently used to make a living from fishing. They took their catch across El Rio in rowing boats, and had to climb to the top of the mountain just to trade their fish. Nowadays, trip boats bring boat-loads of visitors from the bigger islands.

It is low-level tourism here - most holiday apartments are just one-storey high, there is a basic campsite and a handful of restaurants. That’s it! Apart from lovely unspoilt sandy beaches and desert terrain inland. There are no real roads on la Graciosa, so people hire bikes or buggies to get around the sandy tracks.

Caleta del Sebo, Graciosa

sandy paths in Graciosa

The wind picked up steadily from our arrival and the following day it was blowing 30 knots from the southeast. Winds are predominantly northeasterly here (when the Playa Francesca anchorage would be sheltered), but it was untenable in these strong southeasterly winds. Not to worry, we were quite happy moored in the harbour, watching the flow of tourist boats come and go. Reuben particularly liked the ‘shark boat’!

Reuben's favourite 'shark boat'

Since we couldn’t anchor at Playa Francesca, we decided to go there on foot. The coastline is very rugged – stretches of sand interspersed with bumpy black lava rocks, and tidal pools. The children enjoyed rock-hopping and wading through the shallow pools, where we even found a large crab. Dead sadly, although we returned him to the water just in case!

Graciosa beach, Montana Amarillo in the background

rugged coastline, Graciosa

Dave & Reuben in a stone windbreak, Graciosa

Without a map, we were unsure whether we had arrived at Playa Francesca or not. There was certainly a lovely beach, but it was very windy and unsafe to anchor. The children had a quick paddle while we mulled over our options. We decided to look around the next headland to see. Once over the ridge, we descended to a secluded but fairly busy beach. Sheltered from the wind, we felt the heat properly for the first time (22 degrees), and the children were quick to strip off for a paddle.

Parts of the beach were literally right underneath the mountain, ‘montana Amarillo’, and signs warned of landslides. You could see where the sandstone above had been worn away into impressive caves and ridges - and looked ready to do so again!

We didn’t realise how far we had walked until we had to go back against the wind. Instead of following the winding coast path, we cut across the middle ground and found ourselves walking across almost barren terrain, cut through with deep gullies from occasional rain. There are no trees on la Graciosa, just clumps of prickly bushes and the odd tiny purple flower. Our legs were aching by the time we got back to Caleta del Sebo, and the children were finally rewarded with an ice cream!

sandy & rocky desert terrain, Graciosa

We soon discovered that the southeasterly winds were set to stay for a while. Ultimately, we wanted to get to Arrecife, on the east coast of Lanzarote, but we decided to go with the wind, and sailed right down the west side. We had a great sail, with spectacular views of the many volcanoes that created Lanzarote – some 300 of them! By the time we reached the southern tip, the wind had dropped (it often does at night here) and we motored into Marina Rubicon.

Volcanic landscape of Lanzarote

The marina deserves a few words, as it has been sculpted into a minor resort, complete with swimming pool (freezing!), numerous bars & restaurants, twice-weekly artisan market, a fake volcano lit at night to resemble flowing lava (part of a hotel), and my favourite – the rotating globe of peace outside the supermarket!

globe of peace (or 'peach' as it was originally misspelt!)

We ended up staying 8 days in the marina, and the wind seemed to blow steadily from the southeast the whole time. We met up with our friends on ‘Persevere’ (who we met in Rabat), and had a lovely few days exploring with them. We all got on our bikes and cycled to the nearby beach ‘Playa Mujeres’. Actually, the track ran out before we got there, so a bit of minor rock-climbing was called for. The beach was worth it – the girls all swam with snorkels and could see fish swimming and nibbling around the rocks.

Timanfaya Devil

We hired a car for us all one day, and visited the Timanfaya ‘Mountains of Fire’ Park. A coach took us on a half hour ride around the volcanoes, with spectacular views and an excellent commentary. Although the volcanic activity that formed the islands happened millions of years ago, the latest eruption was as recent as 1750, and the lava fields from it are an incredible mass of twisted black impassable rocks. All set against the backdrop of the (now smooth) original volcanoes. The coach took us up the sides of the volcanoes and past impressive holes and craters in the ground.

'Mountains of Fire'

lumpy lavafields

At the Timanfaya Centre, they showed how hot the ground is just metres below the surface by placing twigs into a large hole, which almost immediately ignited into flames. Half a bucket of water poured into a smaller hole fired right back out as a ‘geyser’ of steam. Inside the building, they were roasting chicken pieces directly over one of the volcanic vents to serve in the restaurant.

Combusting twigs just below the ground

Cooking chicken directly over a volcanic vent

The highlight of Reuben’s day was a ride on a camel train! These animals were brought over from Morocco and were used to carry out farmwork and carrying loads to market before roads were built and the motor car took over. Nowadays, they carry tourists around a circular path in the mountains.

We were paired up according to weight – Katie and her friend Meriel were on the lead camel; Dave, Reuben and I were on the one behind. There was a bit of a lurch as the camels climbed to their feet but it was a surprisingly gentle motion once they started walking – sort of a rhythmic lurching. One older gentleman towards the back of our train looked as though he may not have agreed with me!

Camels waiting patiently

on the camel train

Our camel was called ‘Julio’, and he made very strange grumbling/gobbling noises. That, as well as the fact he kept pushing his nose into Katie’s seat as we walked made her a little bit nervous, but we all enjoyed the ride, especially with the majestic red volcanic background. The girls’ camel, ‘Maria’ was white with beautiful long eyelashes. She had seemed very calm and placcid when Meriel had stroked her neck before the ride, so it was a bit of a shock when Maria tried to bite her fingers at the end!

We drove north up through the island, looking out at the inhospitable land. I had always heard that volcanic soil was very fertile, but here it was just mile upon mile of empty black rock. It hardly ever rains here and it amazed me that anything could grow in the gritty black ‘soil’. Towards the centre of the island, there were more signs of cultivation. Fields had been tilled and sown but still seemed to be full of stones. Amazingly, there were grapevines too. Low semi-circular ‘walls’ had been painstakingly built from the lava stones, and a single vine was planted in the centre of each, in a dip to collect any dew. The grape harvest per area here is apparently only one third of a conventional vineyard.

cultivated field

We visited another ‘centre of culture and tourism’ – the ‘Jameos de Agua’.  This is a natural volcanic cave full of water, where a unique set of tiny lobster-like crabs thrive (each the size of a fingernail). The children loved poking their finger into the water to watch them scuttle away. The cave walls have been strengthened and made safe, and then its natural beauty enhanced and made ‘tourist-friendly’ so it is now a strange combination of high-class restaurant/theme park. You emerge from the dark cave onto a path around a white-washed pool, with incredibly (dyed) blue water surrounded by palm trees. Another large volcanic cave has been turned into an auditorium. A café overlooks the whole spectacle and there was a gift shop as you leave. It was a truly stunning place but seemed to have been rather ‘manufactured’ in order to charge a steep entry fee.

Jameos de Agua

tiny lobster/crabs living in the pool

sculpted for the tourists

Back at the marina, we spent several days meeting up with our friends, preparing the boat for Christmas, and had several trips to Playa Blanca. This is a typical holiday resort with a sandy beach and rows of tourist restaurants and knick knack shops – twenty minutes walk away along a promenade overlooking the sea. We admired the ingenuity of locals trying to earn a living – from traditional hair-braiding and ice-creams to snow-topped sandcastles and lava rocks sculptures.

snow-capped sand sculpture

Finally, the wind dropped and turned more easterly and we left the shelter of the marina. We had seen postcards of a stunning enclosed beach, Playa Papagayo, just along the coast and headed there. We spent a rolly night at anchor but it was worth it to dinghy in to this lovely beach. Whereas most beaches had a sizeable swell breaking on them, this one was protected by rocks on both sides of the entrance. This gave us a smooth landing once inside but we were grateful for the lines of buoys marking the safe channel through the rocks – quite impressive as you row between them! I walked to the top of the surrounding cliffs and had lovely views over both sides of the southern tip of Lanzarote, and across to Fuerteventura, and of course, of our lone boat at anchor in the bay.

Incredible lava rock formations along the coast

secluded Playa Papagayo

Anchored off Playa Papagayo

The next day, we came up the east side of Lanzarote to the capital, Arrecife, where we are expecting friends out to visit at New Year. We have spent several peaceful days anchored off the town and exploring the local beaches and shops. The water is incredibly clear and Katie had her first diving trip down the anchor chain to the bottom of the ocean (about 15 foot!). Strong southerly winds are expected again, so we have moved into the marina for a peaceful non-rolly Christmas.

Arrecife beach

Katie & Dave diving, Arrecife


MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE & ALL!!

Christmas lights in Arrecife

Morocco

Courtesy flag for Morocco

We left Gibraltar with a favourable tide and spent a night at Tarifa, at the western end of the Strait. 

Early the next morning we set off towards Morocco. The first hurdle was to cross the shipping lane, which is one of the busiest in Europe. There is a steady stream of ships going both into and out of the Mediterranean, as well as fast ferries plying between Spain, Gibraltar and Morocco. We had to alter course to let one ship pass in front, then crossed the second five-mile wide lane without any close calls.

ships in Gibraltar Strait, Morocco behind

Close encounter with a ship, Gibraltar Straits

Once past Tangiers, we saw no more fast ferries, and the number of ships dropped off too as we headed south along the coastline. We had mixed feelings about visiting Morocco, as we had heard lots of unfavourable reports – from dirty streets infested with rats and cockroaches to hassle and theivery from local inhabitants. We decided to judge for ourselves when we got there. We were headed for Rabat, the capital city of Morocco, about 150 miles from Gibraltar. There was hardly any wind so we motor-sailed slowly, turning the engine off for the few hours that the wind picked up a little. It was an overnight trip, and the only hard part was looking out for fishing boats and nets at night, both of these can be unlit!

Reuben on swing at sea

fun at sea!

We arrived at Rabat around midday, and the marina sent out a small ‘pilot boat’ to guide us in. The entry is fairly shallow, and dangerous in swell over 2m. We had about 1.6m of swell, which picked up at the entrance, crashing impressively on the two breakwaters. It was both reassuring to have the pilot’s local knowledge and rather worrying when he kept signalling us to hold back just as a swell picked us up and pushed us onwards! Thankfully, we entered safely through the second set of breakwaters, and followed the pilot boat upriver, past Rabat’s towering city walls on one side and low-lying beaches on the other. Both sides of the river were busy with colourful wooden boats, and we had several welcoming waves, and what we hoped were friendly shouts from the fishermen!

Rabat kasbah city walls

colourful boats along the river

We were taken to the reception pontoon in a very smart new marina (five years old), and were immediately boarded by officials. We had the police on board, as well as customs and immigration, all in heavy official uniforms and long coats (in 25 degrees heat!). We had read in our pilot book about the practice of baksheesh (bribes), and how you must accept it as part of the way of life here. We had bought a sleeve of cigarettes in Gibraltar just for this purpose but were then unsure when to give it to them, who to, and how many?!

Dave showed them around the boat, while I filled out entry cards for each of us in the wheelhouse, then again in the customs office and yet another form for the police, and photocopies were taken of our passports and boat documents. This is standard procedure in non-EU countries and was all handled politely and efficiently.

We were then shown to our berth in the marina, and the pilot boat guys helped us with our ropes. We were still busy sorting ropes and fenders when the officials came en masse to return our passports. Was this the moment to pass the cigarettes? We took the passports and offered several packets of cigarettes, but were met with shakes of the head and cries of “No smoking”. All very perplexing. So after smiles and handshakes all round, it was all finished and no cigarettes had changed hands. That was a waste of eighteen euros! We later found out from a neighbouring boat that they are trying to stamp out baksheesh, and a large sign in the capitainerie encourages people witnessing any bribe-taking to report it to the authorities.

new waterfront at Sale marina

The marina sat on the north side of the river, on the edge of a town called Sale, which was renowned in centuries gone by for its fierce pirates. The ‘Sallee Rovers’ attacked ships all along the Atlantic coast and even ventured as far as Britain. Seamen captured were then sold into slavery outside the Kasbah walls; this was the basis for the Robinson Crusoe story. They took over 1,000 European ships between 1620 and 1630 before finally being subdued in the late 17^th century by Moulay Ismael, who incorporated the pirates (and their revenue) into his state.

The marina itself was very safe – sat in the middle of a new (still being built) complex of luxury apartments and restaurants, and dotted with security guards. We were quite happy to leave the boat unlocked there. As you would expect, since the King kept his boat there!

Medina entrance, Sale

We had no local money – dirhams - so went for a wander into Sale to find a cash machine. The ‘medina’ was contained within city walls, and we entered through a large stone archway. Inside was a complete town, with small workshops dotted between clothes shops, banks and tearooms. We joined the general flow of people, passing a man welding on the street, tea bars full of men, and several people wobbling through on bicycles, or pushing barrows of oranges. Further in were bustling market streets selling vegetables, spices, and household goods. A large square in the centre had a big park, so we headed there to let the children play.

traditional window, Sale

  

man with a traditional instrument, both a
guitar and a drum!

This first day was quite overwhelming, and we were conscious of being the only white people in town. We received a few inquisitive glances, and I wondered if my short-sleeved T-shirt was inappropriate, as everybody else seemed to have arms and legs covered up, and many had extra scarves or cardigans. Upon inquiry at the marina later, it turns out that they were simply feeling the cold, (despite it being 20+ degrees), as it is winter there!

It was interesting to see the wide range of clothing styles the Moroccans wore. The majority of ladies wore traditional long dresses with baggy trousers underneath. Most, but certainly not all, wore headscarves. Many wore a headscarf with jeans and sneakers. Regardless of dress style, women seemed happy to wear make-up and sunglasses. Younger men seemed to dress more casually, but many men wore the traditional long trousers and smock tops. We saw a few wearing full-length robes with hoods.

lady in traditional dress outside the kasbah

Rabat itself lay across the river, we caught a tram over to explore the following day. Like at Sale, the ‘medina’ was surrounded by huge city walls, but the new town had been built (by the French rulers in the early 1900s) outside the walls, and the whole medina was now literally ALL market. We were soon immersed in narrow streets full of shops showing off their wares. It was fascinating just to walk along and absorb the atmosphere.

Rabat medina walls

inside Rabat medina

       

old wooden door, Rabat

Men held out cashmere cardigans as we passed by, shouting out phrases we couldn’t understand. Others in colourful Berber costumes, complete with ‘lampshade hats’, wandered round offering water from animal skins and strings of brass cups over their shoulders.

Old men, and women, shuffled along with their hands outstretched, and we saw young women, when approached by them, stop and search for change in their purses. We assume there is little social service provision here, but it seems as though people don’t ignore those in need.

There were a huge number of stray cats on the streets too –curled up on windowsills, tree stumps, and even on a parked motorbike! Reuben reckons he counted 129 of them.

stray cats sleeping

Reuben with tortoises

We were amazed at the sheer size and variety of goods in the market.  There were sacks of dried beans, mountains of colourful spices, long strings of figs and several varieties of dates. Big tubs of colourful goo turned out to be soap and heavy metallic stones were kohl to grind ‘for ladies eyes’. Cracked mannequins showed off bejewelled dresses, and pairs of plastic legs stuck up from the floor modelling tights. Pyjamas and scarves were neatly stacked in piles alongside crates of tortoises (Reuben’s favourite!)

a well-stocked spice shop!

dried goods and spices

soap!

A table full of radios in the middle of the street parted the flow of people, and then a motorbike came through the midst of it all! A man sat unperturbed filling bags with verveine leaves for tea. You also had to watch out for barrows being wheeled through - full of fish, bundles of clothing, or round loaves of bread.

We saw these loaves being baked in a side street. An old-fashioned bread oven burned at the end of a dark room. One man stood waist-deep in a pit in front of it, and his job was to take three uncooked loaves from a tray behind him, slide them in on a flat tray with a 15’ long handle, then take out another three baked ones. Another man was busy stacking the cooked loaves on a tray, and replenishing the raw dough tray as necessary. The man at the door encouraged us in to watch and even gave us a free loaf!

bread going into oven

loading uncooked loaves

The central part of the medina seemed to cater mostly for local people. There was a vast fish market, and stalls selling meat, vegetables, eggs and live chickens. Street vendors sold chicken kebabs, sardine sandwiches, and other fried fish. Snack bars offered doner kebabs, spit-roast chicken, and one place had two whole steaming camel’s heads on offer (or so we assume, they looked a bit big for sheep…).

There were wonderful selections of cakes, most of which seemed to be based on almonds and/or honey. We saw a man pouring a jug of honey over a towering plate of cakes, oblivious to the cloud of wasps buzzing around him! We took refuge in a cake shop when we got tired and although there was nowhere to sit, it was nice to stop for a few minutes and refuel with cake and the local sweet peppermint tea.

Shoes on display

strange mannequins

lovely mannequins!

Towards the outer edges of the medina, shops sold more touristy stuff – colourful beaded shoes, leather bags, belts and pouffes, wooden knick-knacks, artworks and rugs. It went on and on, and we wondered how so many vendors could make a living with near-identical goods.

inside the kasbah

lovely doorways & windows in the kasbah

We finally came out on the other side of the medina, and walked along the river bank towards the city walls we had seen when we sailed in. These are the walls of the Kasbah - the old pirates’ stronghold, which was heavily fortified by them in the 16^th century.  Nowadays, it is a maze of narrow alleyways, and local houses. The walls are all painted blue and white - (apparently the blue keeps flies away!), and are dotted with wonderful old doors and windows.

giant grasshopper

old palace garden

We found ourselves swept along by an unofficial ‘tour guide’, who led us through the maze, pointing out places of interest, and then named an extortionate fee for his services! He did know his stuff, however, telling us stories about many of the houses, and naming most of the plants in the old palace gardens, including papyrus and a huge poinsettia tree. After the extensive tour, we relaxed in the  café with tea and cakes, where we soon discovered the prices were twice that in town, and there was no escape from having our hands decorated with henna (for another small fee!)

Coke in Arabic

henna hands

The return journey to the marina was by ferry boat across the river – several men ply their trade in 20-foot wooden rowboats, which they stand and row forwards. We were tickled to see the ferryman had his brass teapot with him, and some of the boats even had carpets! It was a lovely relaxing end to a hectic day, for the princely sum of 25p each!

Reuben in the front of the ferry

carpet in ferry boat!

After the initial culture shock, we really enjoyed our time in Rabat, and ended up spending a whole week there. We wandered outside the medina walls of Sale, found a beach for the children to play on, and a rustic fish market. Next to it was an outdoor canteen, where they will cook your freshly-bought fish for you.

beach at Sale

local family on Sale beach

We saw a man doing intricate carving and embossing (marquetry?) in a little workshop. In broken French, he invited us in to watch as he chiselled out his design. His ‘chisel’ was a ground-down engine valve, which he used to incise the wood before hammering in lengths of metal strip and shaped pieces of cow-bone. Fascinating to watch and beautiful work.

beautiful woodcarving

woodworker following hand-drawn design

samples of finshed work

We visited the Tour Hassan, an unfinished palace, and mausoleum to three generations of kings.

We met several fellow cruisers in the marina, including an American family with three children aboard. We joined forces to go exploring together and our two had a great time playing (and watching movies) with them!

ceiling at king's palace

Katie at Tour Hassan

All in all, we felt very safe in Morocco and would definitely visit again. We have all had our eyes opened to a different culture and the children have lovely memories of bustling markets, glittering palaces, stray cats and tortoises!

 new friends over to play