RCI a.k.a. Vacation Hell

Still in vacation Hell, but trying to deal with it, we rose early because the traffic noise was so bad that it was not letting Jeanette sleep. I noticed that even though the toiled ran continuously, you only heard it when the traffic stopped!

We decided to drive to Playa del Ingles and Maspalomas, a well know beach and town on the southern tip of the island that were well known for sand dunes. The drive got really busy as we approached Playa del Ingles. Maspalomas was a bust. We couldn't find parking anywhere near the beach or the dunes, so after getting fairly irritated, we headed toward Playa del Ingles. Playa del Ingles turned out to be somewhat better at first. We found parking easily at the southern end of the beach, then discovered that we could walk right out onto the dunes. On our way out, we saw an odd photo shoot where they were using a fence as the backdrop for the model. She was tall, thin, and angular... and none too attractive in her makeup and designer clothes.

We found our way onto the dunes and had some fun. The dunes were great to climb around in and stretched for a mile in a large field in front of the water.  The sand was very fine and the wind had separated it by composition and color in some places. The lee sides of the dunes had little collapsed areas and the angular sand grains seemed to have a pretty steep angle of repose, so some of the dunes' sides seemed pretty steep. The troughs in the dunes were often quite firm, while the sides and top of the dunes were soft and occasionally offered some garbage that had been caught in the sand and wind.

We played for a while and then decided to go back to the city area to find someplace to eat because we were closer to the car than to the actual water's edge.

We found our way to the Kasbah, a Moroccan-styled shopping center, and had a creepy experience where one Arab tried to stare down Jeanette and another dropped my purchase of postcards in front of me when I said I was an American. We left there and found a lame restaurant at which to eat. I ordered pizza with Jeanette, but we would have done better to order the English Breakfast.

We went to the tourist info center and the other shopping center in town to look around. The Fedac, the government-run craft store, offered some of the best and most diverse local crafts that we had seen. I returned later to purchase some hand stamp devices that were styled after Guanche artifacts. We also inquired about travel to Lanzarote, but decided that it was too expensive and too difficult time-wise. (I still have the tickets from our ferry trips, but unfortunately, they only leave you with the half of the ticket that does not show the price. I believe that most of the ferry trips we took were around 70€, but the trip to Lanzarote was going to be well over 100.)

We walked for a while through the shopping center. I bought two soccer jerzeys, but Jeanette bought nothing because she was a bit wierded out by the aggressive sales people.

We ended up going back to the beach, searched an hour for a bathroom, then found it in a McDonalds, of course. We found our way onto the beach itself in an area where the water was closer to the street, but were shocked by the myriad of ageing bare breasts of both sexes. A horrifying number of vacationing retirees mobbed the beach. Not at all like the nice quiet beaches on La Gomera and La Palma. After walking to the dunes and playing in them a bit more, we took off.

Opting not to eat in Puerto Rico, we drove past it and on up to Puerto de Mogan where we walked around the pretty little village. We thought about trying to find a different hotel/apartamento, but were put off by one Irish guy's lame place and didn't like the 100€ price on another. So, we just went to the beach. I snorkeled around the rocks and swam a bit. Jeanette swam some. I saw an interesting black fish with purple 'points' (fins) and several others as well.

We left Mogan and drove north for about 20 minutes to an intriguing restaurant we spotted on the drive south the day before. We found it right after sunset and got some great views down a beautiful west-facing ravine that stretched several hundred yards (at least) down to the sea. The bar and waiter-cook-bartender had a lot of personality. Apolo was nice and seemed to do great in Spanish, English, and German. He served us Sangria made with Ron Miel (Canarian honey rum liqueur) and a ton of fruit. The Sangria was delicious. We had pappas srrugadas with awesome red chili-vinegar mojo and a garlic-black pepper sauce. There was also warm, fresh bread. Jeanette decided on grilled fish that was good, but had great french fries. I tried goat in Canarian sauce. It tasted remarkably like corned beef with the potatoes and carrots to match. The goat was tender and savory. The meal finished off with a gourd filled with ron miel that became Jeanette's new-found best friend.