(This blog is a day out; what I post today actually happened yesterday.)

After a lazy breakfast we drove over to a little fishing village called El Golfo on the south west coast. This area didn't exist before the volcanic eruptions in the 1730s which increased the size of the island by a third, and the black volcanic rock is barren and lunar-like (I should imagine). Lanzarote is like a massive carbuncle on the crust of the earth, from which lava has burst out at various weak spots, like pus. (In a nice way.) From the hills you can see how it filled the valleys and oozed its way down to the sea. A walk along the cliff brought us to a volcanic crater, one side of which had collapsed under the force of the waves creating a massive amphitheater, in the base of which was a neon green algae-filled lagoon. Weird. Continuing with the carbuncle analogy it looked like a pseudomonas infection had set in. Ciprofloxacin stat.

Further down the coast we drove around the saltpans and then thought we'd have a look at Playa Blanca, one of the tourist resorts.
Cèsar Manrique did brilliantly to protect the aesthetics of the island, and there are no buildings higher than two storeys here. So, for a resort, Playa Blanca is quite attractive, if a little soulless. Difficult to escape from though - we drove round and round the labyrinthine streets looking for the way out. Eventually broke free and found ourselves on a bumpy dirt track heading for Playa Papagayos. Was worth the discomfort. Lovely little cove. Ate picnic and snoozed in the sunshine.

Later we went to Yaiza to a restaurant we had been recommended. The problem with asking directions in Spanish is that the reply also comes in Spanish. Found it eventually. Was lovely despite crazy maître d' who was clearly the love child of Manuel and Basil Fawlty.
Lanzarote wine is verr verr nice y'know. Hic.