ExploGC

The day began with wind — that kind of steady Atlantic wind that never truly leaves Arinaga. It whistled across the coast, rippling the surface of the sea and bending the dry grass that clings stubbornly to the volcanic ground. Auke and Miranda stood at the Risco Verde viewpoint, looking out toward the long curve of the coast where the land rises in dark, silent shapes. Somewhere out there, among the rocks and the salt, lay the old military bunkers of Arinaga — forgotten, half-buried, and whispering stories from another age. The path began as a simple dirt trail, winding between low volcanic hills and patches of desert plants. The air smelled of salt and heat. There were no crowds, no sounds of traffic — just the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes and the deep rhythmic breath of the ocean. It felt like walking into another time. --- 🧭 Following the Ghosts of a Fortress As we approached the ruins, the first thing that appeared was a concrete silhouette, weathered and fractu...

Tonight, we decided to explore one of the oldest and most charming parts of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria — Vegueta, the historical heart where the island’s story truly began. By the time we arrived, the last traces of daylight had already disappeared behind the Atlantic horizon, and the narrow cobbled streets were glowing under the soft, warm light of old-style lanterns. Our first stop was the Mercadillo de Vegueta, where the last vendors were already packing up their stands. The air carried a mix of aromas — roasted nuts, fresh fruit, and something sweet that lingered around one of the nearby stalls. Even though the market was closing, the square still buzzed quietly with a few people chatting and laughing, unwilling to end their evening just yet. From there, we wandered deeper into the labyrinth of small streets that make Vegueta so enchanting. Each turn revealed something new — a cozy cafetera with a few tables on the terrace, groups of friends enjoying their drinks, and t...

There are places on Gran Canaria where time seems to move differently — slower, quieter, and somehow fuller. Montaña Alta, high above Santa María de Guía, is one of those places. Hidden among the rolling green hills of the island’s north, this small mountain rewards every step with a moment of wonder. Our walk began at an altitude of around 880 meters, where the air already felt fresher and the landscape began to shift from coastal blue to mountain green. The road narrowed into a path, and in front of us appeared a natural stairway — 99 steps carved by time and nature itself. Each step carried us a little higher, the view widening behind us with every breath. At the top of the stairs, a small stone passage opened the way to the summit. It felt almost like stepping through a secret doorway — a quiet moment before the world expanded again. And then, as we emerged, the Mirador de Montaña Alta revealed itself at 950 meters above sea level. From up there, the panorama was simply...