F U E R T E V E N T U R A
A (slightly tongue-in-cheek) Adventure
17 - 24 March 2007

Dark Clouds, Silver Linings -- Wednesday, 21 March 2007 9:32 AM 

It's cool and windy this morning but there is some sun and the promise of warmer weather.  And at least it's not raining.  

I had my first semi-decent night's sleep since I got here.  With the drop in temperature, it was cool enough to be comfortable and with the door not banging all night long I was actually able to fall asleep.  During a nocturnal trip to the loo, I met my first cockroach--a friendly fellow who just stood there staring at me and not bothering to run.  There was no use in killing him; 10,000 of his relatives would just show up for the funeral. 

I can't fault The Dunas Club for a single, fearless cockroach, but I can fault them for the overall shoddiness of the place.  In a way, it's comforting because it's just like being at home.  In the tradition of my landlord, the owners of this place do everything--from the furnishing, the carpentry, the appliances, the plumbing, even down to the bedding, toilet paper and soap--with an eye, not toward quality, aesthetics or customer convenience, but toward cheaping out.  This results in an undercurrent of dissatisfaction and knowing, if they tried just a bit harder, our stay would be that much more pleasurable and I wouldn't be spending my time and energy doing daft things like stabilizing the trash bins or wedging the door closed. 

Before I'm sued by the Fuerteventura Tourist Board, allow me to point out that some of the apartments here appear to be undergoing renovation, so they are apparently upgrading the place.  However, I haven't actually seen one of the renovated apartments so I have no idea what they look like; for all I know, they may be overhauling them to bring them up to the level of ours. 

When Brits travel, they like to bring a bit of home with them.

Waiting for The Maids -- 11:51 

Despite initial optimism, the clouds thickened, the wind stiffened and the temperature remained stubbornly and decidedly cool.  The few hopeful holidaymakers who earlier installed themselves around the pool have retreated, surrendering to the climate.  If you've booked a holiday for the sole purpose of sitting in the sun, this has got to be a bit of a disappointment.  We aren't so keen on the sun and surf but had hoped to relax on the balcony and just read or lounge by the pool and sip cool drinks.  As it is, we're huddled on the couch wrapped in a blanket. 

We took a stroll this morning and that about wiped us out.  The incessant wind just sucks the warmth--and all your energy along with it--out of you.  We came back for some lunch but the maids haven't been here yet.  If we start making lunch, they'll be sure to arrive in the middle of it.  So all we can do is sit here, trying not to fall asleep.  This isn't difficult because, due to the impending arrival of the maids, I removed the wedge holding the door in place and the energetic clunk, clunk, clunk precludes sleep. 

A lovely stroll along the beach.

All I want is some quiet, a little peace, a place to sit where the wind isn't seeping into my bones and rustling the trees and rattling the door.  I want to feel the sun warming me, see the blue sky and hear nothing but the gentle rumble of the distant surf as it lulls me into placid slumber.  But the wind just goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and the clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk pounds in my head like a low-level migraine.  

I'm tired and cold and hungry and I can't even watch the television.  There are 29 channels on this thing but only one is in English and subtitled in, of all things, Arabic.  Right now, it's showing a documentary on the life of John Delorean, and even if I wanted to watch it, the sound doesn't work very well when it's--wait for it--windy.  What is wrong with these people?  Haven't they figured out yet that it is always windy here?  No wonder the first settlers on this island lived in caves; it was the only way to get out of the wind. 

Funny how, on the tour, we didn't see any lunatic asylums; there must be a few around somewhere to hold all the people driven crazy by the wind wind wind wind wind... 

Atención -- 5:37 PM 

Hola.  I am afraid Señor Harling will be not able to update his travelogue for a time.  He was found running naked along the sea front screaming, "Stop, just stop! Jesus, Mary and Joseph will you just stop!"  We had no choice but to intervene. 

We are not objecting to naked people, but we are not allowing to take the name of our Holy Mother in vain and Señor Harling seemed distraught and perhaps a danger to himself or other tourists.  He is resting comfortably now, a guest of the Clìnica Mèdica, Turista Loco Ward.  His mind is mending nicely and he should be well and able to continue his story mañana. 

Carlos Fuentes-Mendoza, Capitán del Policía, Corralejo, Fuerteventura

The Zen of the Wind -- Thursday, 22 March 2007 2:37 PM 

I've had a perfectly peaceful night.  There was some confusion yesterday afternoon but the men in the long white coats were very nice and convinced me to go with them in the van. I'm ever so glad I did.  They gave me a nice comfy robe and took me to a large room with chairs and tables and lots of other tourists who seemed just as glad for the peace and quiet as I was. 

My wife came to visit me later and brought my cigars.  I wasn't allowed my lighter or cutter or anything to write with but the kind men in the lab coats escorted me to a smoking room and lit my cigar for me.  I met a pipe smoker there and we had a grand time discussing tobacco preparation techniques.

After that, a group of us played rummy without keeping score until dinner was served.  Then we were led to our bedrooms.  They were white and warm and quiet and the walls and floor were padded with the softest pillows.  I slept in the most blissful comfort, without the clanking of the door or the howling of the wind or the cold seeping into my bones. 

In the morning I was so refreshed I felt I could return to my apartment but they said I needed to learn the Zen of the Wind first.  I needed to believe in the wind.  The wind is my friend; the wind is a giver, not a taker; I should accept the wind around me, connect with my inner wind* and become one with the breeze.  It would give me life; it would set me free.  And more importantly, it would allow them to let me return to my apartment. 

I gave it a shot but, really, it was a lot of bollocks.  Then they gave me a bottle of little blue pills, which improved my attitude a lot more than the Zen mumbo-jumbo they'd been feeding me, so they let me out. 

My wife and I had designated Thursday as 'the shopping day' so, after a late start, we walked into the center of town and perused the stores. 

The main street on Corralejo.

Shopping is another reason people flock to Fuerteventura.  The tax is extremely low here so things like booze, tobacco, electronic goods and jewelry are really cheap.  Because the Canaries are sort of EU but really not, there is an official limit on what you can bring back, but the unofficial limit is how much you can stuff into your suitcase and not get caught with. 

Notice the absence of Americans, and French.

We enjoyed a late lunch at a charming Bistro on the seafront then retired to our balcony to read and relax in the fresh breeze.  When the breeze started getting too fresh for my liking, my wife suggested I take one of the little blue pills and that seems to have worked.  We're down in the pool area now, still in the breeze but with a welcome sun warming us and giving us a bit of color so the folks back home will believe we really went on holiday and didn't spend the week holed up in our flat. 

Wouldn't you know it; the clouds have rolled in, just when I was getting comfortable.  There goes my chance for some holiday color and, if that wasn't bad enough, I'm getting cold again and the wind is really . . . 

Just had another blue pill. It's still windy and cloudy, but I don't mind. 

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*This is funnier if you are British