I finally got my lazy ass out of the bars and off the topless beach long enough to go for a nice 8-mile hike around Timanfaya National Park. I had made arrangements with a gentleman named Gilles to take a tour. Turns out it was just the two of us. I’m really glad that it turned out that way. Gilles is leaving the business, and this was one of the last scheduled activities he was doing. He’s got a young son he’s raising on his own now, and wants to spend time with him.
Gilles speaks at least three languages: French, English, and Spanish. (For all I know he probably speaks Latvian, German and Klingon, too. I didn’t want to ask, for fear of being embarrassed by a “yes” answer.)
His knowledge of the ecology and geography and geology of the area is impressive and comprehensive. Who knew there are thousands of species of lichen in the Canaries? Gilles did. Who knew that orange lichen only occurs where birds poop? You got it: Gilles. And now me. And you. Now you can impress everyone at your next party with that bit of trivia. Or maybe in a StoopaTrivia? Hmm…
Gilles speaks at least three languages: French, English, and Spanish. (For all I know he probably speaks Latvian, German and Klingon, too. I didn’t want to ask, for fear of being embarrassed by a “yes” answer.)
His knowledge of the ecology and geography and geology of the area is impressive and comprehensive. Who knew there are thousands of species of lichen in the Canaries? Gilles did. Who knew that orange lichen only occurs where birds poop? You got it: Gilles. And now me. And you. Now you can impress everyone at your next party with that bit of trivia. Or maybe in a StoopaTrivia? Hmm…
I also found out the walls (primarily used for wind protection) and small pebbles (called lapilli) are used to capture and hold moisture for cultivation. The combination also works as a means of insulation to keep the plants at higher elevations from experiencing the variations in temp overnight. Pretty ingenious application of available resources, if you ask me.
What struck me was the presence of life struggling through the layers of rock and ash. There are some fig bushes (yeah, not trees) that have been there for many decades, if not a few centuries. The lichen is everywhere, and the occasional flowering plant can be found peeking through. Considering a significant percentage of the island was nearly entirely covered with lava and ash in the mid 1730s, and that there is really very little precipitation, the fact that anything is growing that hasn’t been specifically planted is outstanding.
Life will always find a way.
What struck me was the presence of life struggling through the layers of rock and ash. There are some fig bushes (yeah, not trees) that have been there for many decades, if not a few centuries. The lichen is everywhere, and the occasional flowering plant can be found peeking through. Considering a significant percentage of the island was nearly entirely covered with lava and ash in the mid 1730s, and that there is really very little precipitation, the fact that anything is growing that hasn’t been specifically planted is outstanding.
Life will always find a way.
In honor of the immense labor involved in hand-stacking the countless walls separating fields and enclosing each grapevine, I’ll be drinking some Malvasía Volcánica vino blanco later this week. I’ll let you know how it is.
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