7 Canary Islands Were Gift of Atlantic Volcanoes

More years ago than we can know, volcanic eruptions in the Atlantic created seven islands. Each, like lovely sisters, has its own allure. Jewels in a royal tiara, they reflect against the velvety blue ocean 60 miles off Morocco.

On one, Gran Canaria, farmer Augustin Hernandez Torre lives alone at the source of the islands’ violent birth, in the pit of a volcano crater. Some call him the “soul of Spain’s incomparable Canary Islands.”

His companions are a cow, a pig, a dog, chickens and goats. Majestic lava boulders 600 feet high bond his special domain. A eucalyptus tree shades his crude stable; orange and guava trees shelter tomatoes, beans and potatoes.

Sitting on his haunches, cutting tall weeds with a small hand sickle, Augustin twinkles as he asks, “Why should I leave my volcanic world when the world comes to me?”

And so it does.

Steep Cinder Path

Visitors from many lands descend the steep, one-mile cinder path from the village of Bandama on the crater rim to see the man born in a volcanic cone. Bandama is on a twisting road about eight miles from Las Palmas, a spirited port city of 400,000 and the largest on the islands.

“I welcome everybody,” says the wiry farmer with the tattered straw hat, pleased when visitors buy his honey, eggs or cheese.

Twice a day he climbs out to sell milk, perhaps buy supplies and visit his parents, brothers and sister. At 40, the farmer in the crater remains single. He understands why no woman is keen on his life style.

“Asi es la vida” --”That’s life,” he says with a smile.

Ah, la vida of the Canaries--how rich it is, how marvelously varied. Sun, sand, surf and sea breezes, forests and snowcapped peaks, deserts, flowers, giant cacti, banana and coffee plantations.

White villages cling to craggy cliffs, camels plod volcanic ash hills and the beaches--golden, taupe, white or black--go for miles. There are even desolate moonscapes.

Duty-Free Shopping

All the islands have free ports. Duty-free shops at international airports cannot compete in price. Cameras, furs, leather, watches, liquor, appliances and silk are often less expensive than in the countries of their origin.

The most visited islands are Gran Canaria, Tenerife and Lanzarote. Fuerteventura, flat and arid, has the longest coastline and is ideal for travelers seeking secluded beaches. Gomera, lush and mountainous, was Christopher Columbus’ last stop before sailing to the Americas in 1492. La Palma is richly scented with pine forests, and Hierros is the smallest and westernmost (population 7,000).

Gran Canaria, long the belle of the ball, round as a soursop and smaller than London, has the largest population, half a million plus. Resort communities on the south shore--the dry, sun-drenched side--teem with northern Europeans. Hotel events are often listed first in German, then English, finally Spanish.

Sand for Sun-Worshipers

The most developed beaches, crowded with high-rises, nightclubs and restaurants, stretch four miles from Maspaloma to El Ingles to the graceful sand dunes of San Augustin. There most tour groups congregate. Sun worshiping--topless, any age, any size--is the order of each day.

Smaller, more private beaches lie west of Maspalomas. The spectacular resort community of Puerto Rico hugs a sapphire harbor of sailing vessels, deep-sea fishing boats and yachts. Etched into steep hills are row atop row of look-alike spanking white bungalows and apartments.

The luxury hotels of Aquamar and Montemarina are set perpendicularly into a huge seaside cliff. Their sculpted balconies, draped with fuchsia, red and pink bougainvillea, descend symmetrically to the gardens below and the sea beyond.

Las Palmas, capital of the island province, sustains tenements, traffic jams and overcrowding. But its cultural events, museums, superb shoping, restaurants, night spots, boardwalk and resonant spirit outweigh its paucity of greenery.

24-Hour Promenade

The city’s two districts are Vegueta, the old colonial section of narrow streets, wooden balconies and small plazas bordering the harbor, and a newer area with department stores, posh hotels and all-night action bordering the Playa de las Canteras, a mile-and-a-half crescent beach. Promenading the Canteras boardwalk past cafes, boutiques and cozy bars is a 24-hour pursuit.

The Columbus House across from the cathedral (Columbus stopped there in 1492, 1493 and 1502) was built for the island’s governors. Among its treasures are documents of the explorer’s voyages, maps from the 1500s and 17th-Century paintings.

To experience the island’s green and floral splendor, drive the spiraling mountain road to the national Parador de Tejeda, a government-owned restaurant 15 miles into the interior. It could be nippy ascending to 6,000 feet; take a sweater.

En route, red-tiled villages balance on ledges, snuggle into rocky terracing, dot valleys brushed with colors of a painter’s palette.

Three miles from Las Palmas are the scarlet, white-trimmed houses of Tafira. French composer Camille Saint-Saens lived there, next door to the Jardin Canario, an enormous botanical garden cascading into a ravine. Entrance is free, and it’s open all year.

Canary Cuisine

When you reach the Parador de Tejeda close to the top of the island you will see the snowy peak of its sister to the west, Tenerife. The parador specializes in Canary cuisine, served indoors or on the sun-washed patio.

Mountain air whets the appetite for the oven-fresh bread, creamy watercress soup, tangy beans and rice, rich fish casserole, rabbit and roasted potatoes. This $9 repast would put a few pricey New York bistros to shame. Order local wine and indulge in the almond pudding.

Tenerife, island of the white mountain, of eternal spring, is a miniature continent of sweeping contrasts. Nature praises and scolds, painting valleys peridot greens, stripping hills barren. Tenerife is the saucy older sister of the Canaries, beguiling yet tempestuous. You can snorkel in the morning, have a snowball fight in the afternoon.

Teide, the bleak, imposing volcano of Tenerife, looms 12,270 feet above the ocean like an avenging angel.

Tourists’ Favorite

Cosmopolitan Santa de la Cruz is the island’s big tourist magnet. Thousands stroll the grand Avenida de Colon parallel to the jagged coast. Chic stores and sidewalk cafes vie for attention on one side, while a park of sculptures, volcanic rocks, gardens, swimming pools and bars beckon from the other.

Walk the back streets along the coast. You’ll come across an open market, fishermen unloading the day’s catch and plazas where the lilt of Spanish talk fills the air.

One visitor, wishing to escape the tourists, ducked into a jampacked church just off the main avenue. She whispered to her companion, “At last, only Spaniards.”

“Yes, but all praying for more tourists,” her friend quipped.

The Canaries revel in song and dance. At the Hotel Tigaiga in Puerto de la Cruz, folk dancers entertain on Sunday mornings at 11. Admission to the outdoor performance is about $1.

On the dry side of Tenerife, about a 45-minute drive from Puerto de la Cruz, is the whitewashed fishing village of Candelaria. In the baroque Basilica is the golden “Virgin of Candelaria,” patroness of all the islands. The basilica faces a plaza flanked by a boardwalk lined with 10 reddish statues of early inhabitants, called Guanches. Guanches lived in caves, herded sheep and goats, used stone weapons and mummified their dead.

Valley of Bananas

A fascinating excursion is a leisurely morning’s drive from Puerto de la Cruz to Mt. Teide. On the way, stop at Orotava, a colonial city of gardens, plazas and cobblestoned streets overlooking a luxuriant valley of banana plantations. The House of the Balconies (1632) boasts a superb selection of handcrafts. Ceramics and especially the lace hand-embroidered tablecloths are excellent buys.

As we climbed to Mt. Teide, above the timberline a golden sun burst on a bizarre world of craters, ragged boulders and barren peaks splattered with black lava. It’s a silent land whipped by wind.

A cable car carries you close to Teide’s summit. The eight-minute ride costs about $3, and shuts down in gusty weather. From the top of the cable your half-hour trek to the peak is made more strenuous by sulfur fumes and thin air.

The view, however, is grandiose--Tenerife’s sister islands curtsy daintily at the foot of their regal mentor.

Parador at the Peak

Many visitors enjoy dining or staying overnight at Canadas del Teide, the national parador not far from the cable. A double at the cozy inn with fireside lounge and library is about $32. Take hiking boots; walking lava-embedded trails near the parador is rough.

Lanzarote’s curvaceous horizon touches the sky, a dark wave in moonlight, a swirling sea of red and black ash in sunlight.

Not always so. Lanzarote was once green as an emerald. But in 1730, the first of 300 apocalyptic eruptions spewed rivers of lava, blackening the fertile island. They lasted six years. Although 11 villages were burned, no one was killed.

An unforgettable experience is riding a camel through the volcanic mountains of Timanfaya National Park, less than an hour’s drive from the capital city of Arrecife. You sit on leather seats strapped to either side of the camel’s hump. Each camel train is led by a driver on foot.

The camels obey only Spanish, but no matter--your only task is to sway gently along, as the mountains ripple from lavender to orange to gray. A 45-minute trip costs about $7 per person; there are daily camel rides from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Afternoons, camels do their real work of plowing the fields.

Lava Is Protected

The park has strict conservation rules. You may not pick up lava for a souvenir. You may not tread its ashen hills. You may not drive vehicles through the park. You leave your car at the entrance and board a tour bus painted russet-orange to blend with the surroundings. Buses leave on the hour from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.; about $3.

The bus follows the “lunar route” into the heart of the Montanas del Fuego (mountains of fire). A recording, complete with eerie atonal music, explains the landscape. Your driver stops for panoramic views and photographs. The tour ends at the Devil’s restaurant on a hilltop with views of the startling volcanoes.

To demonstrate how hot the mountains of fire are, a park ranger shovels about six inches into the cinders outside the restaurant, picks up a lava chunk and quickly hands it to you. “Ouch,” you wince, dropping it. The lava is more than 100 degrees.

A foot deeper, the lava is frying-pan hot. The restaurant grills its meats and sausages over the ferocious heat from the live volcano below your feet.

Half the population of 60,000 lives in Arrecife which, like the villages, is entirely white, trimmed in bright green. Billboards and neon signs are forbidden, and the island has Spain’s strictest zoning.

Dining at Picasso’s

A romantic Arrecife dining spot is Pablo Picasso in the building El Almacen. A converted warehouse, it also houses a boutique, bookstore, art gallery, movie theater and cafe/bar where locals and visitors mingle. One of two former forts guarding the harbor is the Museum of International Modern Art. The restaurant inside has a splendid harbor view.

The island’s most luxurious resort hotel, the Sheraton Las Salinas, is just a few miles from Arrecife; doubles are about $90 a night. From your terrace laden with red geraniums you see a Cesar Manrique garden and fantasy pool with volcanic bridges and walkways overlooking the azure sea and colorful wind-surfing sails.

A crusty old man lives in the middle of Lanzarote in tiny Tiagua. One day, as he was inspecting a small windmill “to see if it was still in good condition,” this visitor asked how he liked the island. Prudencio Hernandez is not much for words, but with a mischievous grin and playful swing of arms, he said, “Me, I’m having a good time.”

The Canaries say you will, too.

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There is jet foil and ferry service between islands and commuter flights to all islands, except La Gomera.

Taxis are inexpensive. In Puerto de la Cruz, for example, a cross-town ride in a Mercedes taxi was under $2.

The Canaries have two casinos--the Casino del Taoro in Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife, and the Casino Gran Canaria in the Hotel los Tamarindos in Maspalomas, Gran Canaria. You must be 18 and show a passport to enter.

In case you’re wondering, though the Canary Islands are alive with the song of canaries, they were named for the wild dogs--canines--explorers found roaming in packs.

For information about the Canaries, write to Spanish National Tourist Office, 8383 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 960, Los Angeles 90211; telephone (213) 658-7188.