Desert hikes and sunny beaches on the Canary island of Fuerteventura

Fuerteventura literally means “strong winds” and that was indeed the prevalent feature of the island when we visited Fuerteventura for 12 days in December. With a mild and dry climate and not far off the Moroccan coast, the second-largest of the Canary Islands is a popular winter destination for European tourists.

We arrive in the South of the Island by Fred Olsen ferry from Gran Canaria and walk over to the nearby town of Morro Jable – a strip of colourful houses built into a dry wadi not so long ago. A balmy breeze wafts through the alleys and we have some cortados and a cheese sandwich at one of the cafés. Arabic is spoken at the neighbouring tables and Morro Jable definitely has a North African vibe to it.

Nothing in the desert landscape behind us would recommend this spot for a settlement, were it not for the broad white sand beach beginning here and stretching for many kilometres along the coast of the Jandía Peninsula. The island bus we take soon passes rows of hotel blocks set back from the beach, hundreds of hollow squares, balcony upon balcony of two deck chairs and drawn curtains. Most of the larger hotels have shut down due to the Corona pandemic, but a number of tourists are staying in the smaller hotels or bungalow parks and making dots on the largely empty beach.

Gran Tarajal, the tiny harbour town where we have rented a flat, attracts very few tourists. Some foreigners are staying on sailing boats in the yacht harbour. The sand on the small beach is a dark grey, and the sea promenade including the complete harbour front and bay allows for a maximum jogging route of perhaps 5 kilometres, but there is a small stretch of cafés and restaurants at the seafront.

Fuerteventura clearly is a beach and water sports destination. We aren’t beach people, and with winter storms, red flags, and high waves the water doesn’t look enticing anyway. Some people walk or run along the beach, a teddy bear is wearing a unicorn sweater to keep warm (sitting in the dunes), and only two older men shuffle waist-deep into the water. Over the next days we manage to do some sightseeing and hiking instead.

We climb Pico Zarza, the island’s highest mountain – at 807 metres not more than a longish desert walk, which will definitely make it among our top-1000 island hikes. And we cross the island at its smallest point at the Isthmus of La Pared.

Several museums on Fuerteventura introduce the local culture and traditions. The Salinas de Carmen today house a museum, where the old salt production pools are restored and exhibits and videos explain the procedure of sea salt making: Without even using pumps, the local salt entrepreneurs coaxed high waves onto the coastland and then drained the water into shallow pools. The saltwater was then gradually simmered down by the tropical sun until salt crystals could be scraped out from the flat basins.

In the cheese museum in Antigua, we learn about the production of the local Majorero goat cheese for which the island is famous. In fact, the locals predominantly subsisted on this cheese in former centuries because Fuerteventura is not suited to agriculture at all and goats were the only animals that could survive on the dry land. Cheese prices and cheese export was often highly regulated to prevent mass starvation.

The mill museum in Tiscamanita, one of the most pleasant rural villages on Fuerteventura according to our guide book, is closed for undisclosed reasons, but at least the restored, white-washed windmill looks nice on the pictures. The village however seems pretty average to us at best.

Betancuria, which even was the island’s capital for a brief period in the 15th century, is another one of those traditional villages advertised to tourists for atmosphere. The church, where a bishop was once meant to reside (but never actually arrived), and about 5 nearby houses are photogenic enough. They all house tourist cafés and souvenir shops, and we notice the broad pedestrian walkways and routes intended to keep hundreds of bus tourists away from the village’s narrow roads. In non-Corona times, the place must be brimming with bus excursions from the beaches in the south. We walk around the decaying old monastery just outside the village and continue to the Barranco del Malpaso, a peaceful canyon where a dam and a failed reservoir project left a seasonal lake and some burgeoning greenery.

For the last few days, we move to Corralejo in the North of Fuerteventura, a thriving tourist town with shopping malls, surf shops, restaurants, and beach bars. Most of them are open and we encounter the highest number of tourists we have seen on the Canary Islands so far this year.

A mountain bike ride along the north coast leads us past all the popular surfer beaches, a walk along the protected Corralejo Dunes to the eastern beaches where the kite surfers congregate. The nearby island of Los Lobos is uninhabited, but a small ferryboat brings day tourists for hiking, surfing or lounging on the beach. We spend a whole very relaxing day walking all over the small island.

Meanwhile we are back on the neighbouring island of Gran Canaria for more climbing and hiking.

 

Note: This trip is not sponsored in any way – all costs are paid by ourselves.