Winter Office in Gran Canaria

Winter Office in
Gran Canaria
February-March 2022
Kristi Rohtsalu
April 2022

1
Table of Contents
1 Moving to my remote home and office in La Aldea de San Nicolás .....................................................2
2 Settling in: My first day in Gran Canaria and my new workday routines .............................................5
3 Trip to El Risco and Andén Verde..........................................................................................................9
4 Towards Güigüí ...................................................................................................................................11
5 Going to Maspalomas, in preparation for what I planned next .........................................................12
6 Roque Nublo and Tejeda.....................................................................................................................17
7 Rest of my prolonged weekend..........................................................................................................20
8 Last week in San Nicolás – and moving...............................................................................................23
9 Re-Read Las Palmas ............................................................................................................................26
10 “Pilgrimage” from Vega de San Mateo to Teror.............................................................................26
11 Everyday hits yet evening feels like being on holiday.....................................................................30
12 Rest of the first workweek in Las Palmas........................................................................................32
13 Caldera de Bandama.......................................................................................................................36
14 The wall of weird cavities................................................................................................................40
15 Windy days and Las Palmas ............................................................................................................42
16 Back to Estonia................................................................................................................................45
17 Conclusion.......................................................................................................................................48
18 References ......................................................................................................................................49

2
1 Moving to my remote home and office in La Aldea de San Nicolás
Already on 18 December 2021 when I came back from my winter office in Madeira, I knew that this winter
there will be one more of such remote office periods. I had been in Madeira for five weeks and in my
opinion, it had been a successful experiment. Finally, I had been able to break out from my usual winter
time “rat race”.
On 11 February 2022 I packed my stuff, passed mandatory COVID procedures – COVID testing, electronic
forms, Lufthansa document check – and checked in to my flight. Outside, the temperature was 1°C; it was
wet and slippery. New COVID cases in Estonia were skyrocketing.
Early in the next morning, a pre-booked taxi took me to the Tallinn Airport. Off I went – without saying a
word to anybody. No word to my family, no word to friends or colleagues. Maybe I am a little superstitious,
after all: up to the very last minute I thought that telling somebody might bring a bad luck like failing in
the COVID test or something…
After nine hours on flights and in the airports (it was two flights, via Zürich) I landed in the Las Palmas –
Gran Canaria (LPA) Airport. Yes, this time I had picked Gran Canaria as my new temporary home & office.
I was inspired by the Gran Canaria song (Edward Fox & The Animal Kingdom - Gran Canaria1
):
“[…] It’s a trip around the sun in Gran Canaria […]”
For the first three weeks of my stay in Gran Canaria, I had booked a modestly priced apartment in one of
the least touristy places in the island that was mentioned in the song: La Aldea de San Nicolás.
In the Las Palmas airport, I was picked up by Domingo, my host in San Nicolás. Finding each other was a
bit of a challenge: I called him, but his English was somewhat limited as was my knowledge on where I
exactly was in the airport. After a couple of calls and asking around, we met each other about half an hour
later.
“My car is parked farther away,” he said almost apologetically when we headed towards his car. “May I
carry your bag?”
“No, no problem, really,” I replied. “I am travelling light and a small walk after nine hours of sitting does
not do any harm.”
Indeed, I only had a rather small backpack and a laptop case with two laptops, a personal one and the
other one for working. Although quite a bit of trouble to get through the airport security, this luggage was
not particularly difficult to carry a kilometer or two.
Our trip to the small town of San Nicolás on the opposite side of the island took about one hour and a
half. We took the norther route, via Las Palmas.
“This is faster,” Domingo explained in response to my question on why we drove via Las Palmas and not
via Maspalomas in south.
Then he asked about me and about Estonia – and I, in turn, asked about Gran Canaria.
I learned that at the time, there were sand storms coming from Africa present. That’s way it looked foggy
yet not quite.
“How long those sand storms usually last?” I wanted to know.
1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InF23FmBMoY

3
Domingo shrugged:
“About a week, maybe.”
Then he continued:
“It has been unusually warm here for the last couple of weeks – for this time of the year. No rain.”
“Pretty obvious,” I noted about the later, looking through the front windscreen.
The dominant color was dusty brown.
Then I heard about tomato farms and the best viewpoints on the island, and that it only takes about 80
minutes to get from Gran Canaria to Tenerife by ferry. I got know that Maspalomas on the opposite side
of Las Palmas was a lot more touristy than Las Palmas. When I mentioned my winter office in Madeira,
Domingo said that he had been living there for five years. We spoke a little about Madeira.
Somewhere past Gáldar or Agaete – I do not even recall where exactly – the highway ended and we turned
to smaller roads.
“They are building new tunnels and new road here,” Domingo pointed to the ongoing construction works.
Partially, the new road was already in use and the old one looked pretty much abandoned.
“It’s used by the cyclists,” Domingo explained.
“Good for them,” I looked at the curvy road.
He offered that he could lend me a bike – for free – while I was staying in his apartment.
“Haven’t biked for many years, but would try it,” I replied, not quite sure about biking on this landscape.
Before we turned to San Nicolás, Domingo drove me to Playa de la Aldea – as close as one can get to the
beach by car. He said that it would be a short bike ride from San Nicolás town to the beach. He also told
a story about a couple who had stayed at his apartment for a week; on every single day they had done
this one thing only: biking to Playa de la Aldea and spending time there until it was time to return for the
evening.
“I certainly want to see more of the island!” I thought, but did not comment.
“How big is the town – I mean, how many people are living there in San Nicolás?” I asked instead.
“About five thousand,” he replied.
“And is the place popular among the tourists?” I asked further.
“Not very. Usually, they are just driving through.”
“So, I have got to see some local life,” I concluded.
Soon we reached the apartment that was meant to be my home and office for the next three weeks. The
building’s location in the town was good: close to the San Nicolás’s little downtown and just a couple of
hundred meters from the SuperDino that quickly became my “home” grocery store.
“You can use those,” Domingo pointed to two bicycles in the corridor.
“That’s your apartment,” I headed to the door on the first floor. “There upstairs you can find the washing
machine. There are also some tables on the roof; if you want, you can sit and work there as well.”
Then we entered the room. The first thing that I saw, was a big desk with office supplies, a monitor and
an external keyboard!
“I like that!” I pointed to the office corner. “By the way, what’s the WiFi password?”
“PinoGordo,” he replied.
I tried it in my phone and got connected, but the WiFi did not work. Then we tried together – and it still
did not work.
“Wait me here for five minutes, I will bring another router,” Domingo said and disappeared.

4
Left alone, I looked around in the apartment.
“Bienvenido, Kristi,” I found a welcoming board in the kitchen.
“RELAX,” was written there on the window with the big bold block letters.
The fully equipped kitchen was long, but relatively narrow.
I turned to the bedroom. The king-sized bed with small bedside tables on each side almost filled the small
room. I noticed the TV screen on the wall, set up for watching movies while in bed. From the big door of
the bedroom, there was a view to the office corner and to the front door. I noticed the dart-throwing
board on the door.
“Enjoy,” stood there on the left side of the door, above the mirror.
In the bathroom, a rather fancy shower corner caught my attention.
“How am I supposed to use this one?” I wondered about the complex shower system.
I also noticed shower gel, shampoo and some other bottles.
“Good, I don’t have to buy those!” I found them as an extra.
There was a small living room right behind the office corner as well, with a big flat screen TV on one side
and sofa on the other.
“No windows,” I observed.
Soon Domingo came back with the other WiFi router. This time, we got the internet connection working.
He showed me a few more things in the apartment. Before he left, he said that his office is nearby, should
I need anything more – sent me the address later in the evening via WhatsApp, along with some nearby
points of interest.
“My mom is living a couple of houses down the street,” he added. “She will bring you fresh towels and
bedding in a few days.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“By the way, this is for the taxi,” I handed him the 45 euros that we had agreed before my arrival via
Booking.com messaging.
He hesitantly took the money and left. After the long day, I was on my own in my new home.
It was about seven o’clock on Saturday night. I felt pretty tired and hungry too. From my prior Google
search, I knew that my nearest SuperDino would be open till nine o’clock this day and then closed for
Sunday. So, I rushed out to get some food and essentials.
A local drunkard welcomed me in front of the store.
“This first,” he sprayed the disinfectant to my hands at the door.
I smiled and went in. As I learned later, the guy was always there at the door of the SuperDino, on every
single day. Anyway… At first, I was a little confused in the new store: what I have to buy? Where can I find
it? It took me a while to find everything that I needed. Well, almost everything: I still forgot some non-
essential stuff.
With two big shopping bags in my hands, I finally headed back to my apartment. The twilight had turned
into darkness. Soon after dinner, I went – I fell – into the big bed.

5
2 Settling in: My first day in Gran Canaria and my new workday
routines
Next morning, I got up rather early, exited to find out where I had landed. Ok, I “blamed” the difference
of the time zones for the early wake up; I felt I had not slept enough yet could not stay in bed any longer.
After my usual morning routines and breakfast, I got out of the house. I was greeted by a desert… almost.
It was very warm and very sunny outside; there was very little natural vegetation, barely any.
First, guided by a map that I had found from the AllTrails app, I headed towards Mirador La Cruz Del Siglo.
The lookout was located just a couple of kilometers from my apartment. In no time, I was out of the small
town, passing a fenced area for local sheep. Followed a bit of climbing (about 160 meters), passing the
tomato farms (this was my very first time to see the tomato farms!) and there I was, overlooking San
Nicolás! I later learned that the shelters visible also from the photo below were not only for tomatoes,
but also protected bananas and domestic animals from the direct sunlight.
My first look to the small town of San Nicolás from Mirador La Cruz Del Siglo
Views viewed I continued my walk with no specific destination in mind. I passed another big tomato farm.
Right next to the gates, there were large boxes of not-exactly-in-shape tomatoes just for the passers-by
to grab. I hesitated for a short while and then picked one. Despite of a little odd shape it tasted like a fine
tomato.

6
“I would not need to buy tomatoes from the supermarket while here,” I smiled to myself.
Next, my legs just wanted to go to the playa, that is to the beach area called Playa de la Aldea. Freely
running dogs on the smaller paths made me a little nervous but no one really bothered me.
“No wonder that some people love coming here every single day while staying in San Nicolás!” I thought
when reaching the destination.
Compared to the town, Playa de la Aldea was a really nice area: a picnic place to have a lunch, impressive
volcanic landscape, a beach – even if relatively small and pebbly. I touched the water.
“Like sea water at home in summertime,” I thought.
In mid-February, the water temperature could have been about 18-19°C.
After a circle around the Charco de La Aldea, I headed back to the town and to my apartment. Altogether,
my walk turned out to be a solid 19 kilometers. I showered, ate my late lunch (which, despite of being
fairly simple, tasted exceptionally good now!) and started to “tune” into the coming workweek in new
place. Making sure the WiFi works properly, the monitor and keyboard can be connected, I look just fine
in the calls… These where just a few things in my to-do list. I found that there were not enough sockets
near the desk. A little creativity and searching in the drawers provided a solution. By the evening I was all
set. Even my little Monday morning run was planned.
It did not take long for me to establish my routines for the workdays. Essentially, I just re-applied the same
routines that I had had already in my Madeira winter office in November-December last year.
Usually, I woke up between 6:30 and 7:30 AM, depending on whether I had early morning calls or not.
Since Estonia is two hours ahead in time as compared to Gran Canaria, a 9:30 AM meeting for people back
there meant a 7:30 AM meeting for me. I had this fun of early wake-up calls on Thursdays. Then I followed
my usual morning routines which took about an hour: some exercising, a cup of coffee, preparing typical
continental breakfast.
In parallel with enjoying my cup of coffee and breakfast, I logged into the virtual office. If it wasn’t
Thursday, I started where I had left off the work last time. After an hour and a half, there was a regular
daily stand-up meeting with my team. Of course, I did not stand up for this – nobody did. We each just
joined the call from different parts of Europe. In those days, hardly anybody from our team was in the
physical office. Nobody even noticed that I connected from more than five thousand kilometers away; I
always used the same fake background image with mountains, after all. On Mondays, it was slightly
different for us: instead of the regular stand-up we had a longer team meeting, starting at one o’clock in
Estonian time. For me, the Monday’s meeting started at eleven.
After two or three hours behind the computer screen, I went out to do my daily jogging round. On
Mondays, it was before the team meeting and on the other days it was after the regular daily stand-up.
During the first week in my new location, I tried to discover the area while running and walking and
climbing on the nearby paths. Later, I simply repeated my favorite routes.
Yeah, for the very first Monday, I happened to choose the jogging round that became my favorite. It was
via the two nearby lookout points, Mirador del Canal and Mirador La Sabinilla. Followed by an ascent of
about two hundred meters, I could enjoy the views to the town and run downhill for the rest of the time.

7
My favorite route for the late morning break
Another there-and-back round which I discovered on my first Tuesday, led me to an interesting stone
formation, depicted on the photo below. Then there was a road till close to Cascada y Piscina Barranco
del Pino Gordo and a couple of other paths between the tomato farms. While passing the later, I often
heard happy music coming from inside, alongside with the barking of local dogs.

8
Rock formation that I reached on my first Tuesday’s run
In about an hour, I was back, showered, prepared my lunch and returned to the “office”. Yeah, I do have
that habit of having lunch at my desk when alone.
I worked till four or maybe four-thirty in the afternoon, that is till six or six-thirty in Estonian time. It varied
somewhat; I finished when I felt that my productive energy was spent for the day. After closing my virtual
office, I made some quick notes to conclude the workday and know where to start in the next morning.
Then I went out again, for a little evening round. Sometimes I simply strolled in the town with no particular
destination in mind. In other evenings, I had a specific place to go in mind. Occasionally, I biked to the
beach. In every couple of days, I stepped into the grocery store to pick up some groceries. Often, it was
my nearest SuperDino, but I also frequented a couple of SPARs a little farther away, just to get a longer
walk.
Later in the evening, after the evening walk and dinner, I entertained myself with planning the weekend
trips or walks. There were also a couple of books in English language left into my apartment. I randomly
picked one of them and read it before bed.
In the morning of my second Tuesday, I had a little accident. Namely, I did not dare to use the gas stove
in my apartment for I had had no experience with the gas stoves. So, I thought I would boil my eggs in the
microwave. Everything went well for the first few minutes… and then an explosion!
“’What now?” I thought, slightly frightened.

9
I quickly found it out: one of the two eggs had exploded! Fortunately, all was fine with the microwave,
except that I now had quite a bit of cleaning to do. That was the first and the last time when I tried boiling
the eggs in this microwave; instead, next time I broke them first and “roasted” on a piece of toast.
3 Trip to El Risco and Andén Verde
Soon, my first week of working in the new winter office was over and came the time for seeing more of
the island. To start with, I had not planned anything big, but just going and checking out a hidden gem:
Charco Azul. This “gem” was located right next to the small village of El Risco in the northwest side of Gran
Canaria.
On Saturday morning, bus no. 101 took me from San Nicolás to El Risco. It was a short ride – about thirteen
kilometers. The following walk to Charco Azul was short too, 1.7 kilometers from bus stop and the same
distance back. After the village, there was a little bit of climbing on a hiking trail. Except me and a boy with
his dad, at 10 AM there was nobody heading in this direction.
Trail to the hidden gem of Charco Azul
I was ought to see a waterfall; instead, I found just a small pond and a sad stream of water. It did not come
as a surprise to me, though: there had been no rain recently and also Cascada y Piscina Barranco del Pino

10
Gordo a few kilometers from my San Nicolás’s apartment had been dry. Regardless, the walk was nice and
apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. When I headed back to El Risco, I met a large group and
several smaller groups of people wanting to see the place as well.
“Good that I came early, before the crowds!” I congratulated myself for the earlier start.
Mostly, when deciding based on the language people used to talk to each other, the other visitors were
Spanish. I only met a couple of English speakers who asked me for directions.
Half past eleven in the morning, I was already back in the El Risco’s bus stop.
“What if I walk back to San Nicolás – use the old road and pass Mirador del Balcón on the way?” I asked
myself and decided at once to do just that.
Before reaching the old road, there was two or three kilometers of walking right by the rather busy main
road. Apparently, such roads were not meant for walkers: there was no sidewalk whatsoever. Anyway, I
had a plan and I followed it. Right before the main road turned into a long tunnel – three or four kilometers
long – I reached the old road. There was a signpost marking dead end. I hoped that walkers like me can
get through, tough; after all, Google Maps showed so. A group of motorcyclists passed me.
“If they can get through, I can do it as well,” I thought.
After marching three or four kilometers uphill, I reached the lookout point called Andén Verde. Cars could
get close to it but just before the viewpoint, there was a traffic barrier. There was a bus stop, too. A bus
stop where buses never stopped… A car had just parked there. A couple – apparently tourists – came out,
climbed over the barrier and headed towards the lookout point. I followed.
It was great, that lookout: I saw the town of Agaete at distance and I was standing right on a cliff. After a
few minutes of admiring the views, I continued my walk on the road that was closed for the cars.
Apparently, the road had not been used for a long time: grass was growing through the asphalt. The reason
became quickly obvious: there had been a rockfall a while ago and the road was completely destroyed.
Indeed, it was this completely destroyed that there was no chance I could get through without risking my
life.
Looking down from the Andén Verde lookout point (left); abandoned road with dead end (right)
I chose not to, not to put my life into risk that is. Instead, I turned around and walked all the way back to
El Risco. When I reached the village at about two o’clock in the afternoon, there were still several hours

11
left till the next bus that would take me back to San Nicolás. For I had no desire to sit and wait there, and
I was a little too tired for further explorations, I stepped into the restaurant just next to the bus stop, and
asked for the taxi. Apparently, there were no real taxis in sight; however, for twenty euros, the son of the
restaurant owner agreed to be my driver. Indeed, he did not need much of convincing; just showing the
twenty euros banknote was more than enough. On the way back, I asked the guy about the possibilities
to walk from El Risco to San Nicolás. He replied that there is no way – or, more precisely, there is a way,
but a very long one, a big circle.
Soon, I was back in my apartment, watching my day’s photos and video clips. What remained a mystery
to me is where did those motorcyclists disappear that had passed me when I walked up to Andén Verde…
It seems that the place has its own secrets.
4 Towards Güigüí
On Sunday I took a longer walk right from the San Nicolás town. Namely, on my way to the La Aldea Beach
on the other day, I had noticed signposts pointing to a hiking trail towards the special nature reserve of
Güigüí. That’s the road I followed.
Quite from the beginning, it was clear that this was not going to be an easy way: the narrow and rocky
hiking trail headed right up to the mountains. I just hoped that it will not start raining this day, even if it
was drizzling already; the unusually long period of drought seemed to be over. As if the Master of the
Weather had heard me, drizzling soon stopped and it turned out to be a perfect day for me – not too hot
for doing the climb.
A climb it was. At one point I wondered how had they – whoever “they” were – once found that walking
path over this steep mountain range at all. After about 700 meters of ascent, I reached the bit of the trail
which I quickly considered as “the nominee for my favorite place on the island of Gran Canaria”. By that
time, I had not seen much of the island, but my initial assessment turned out to be right: it indeed was
one of the greatest if not the greatest places that I visited in Gran Canaria. The trail run on the ridge with
the views to fantastic landscapes. The best part of it was that I was there alone; there were no tourists
hanging around as was the case near more promoted natural monuments.

12
Path towards Güigüí
The trail on the ridge was short, though. Soon the descent to the other side of the mountain range started.
I descended about three hundred meters, approaching a couple of houses. A rather big and not
particularly friendly dog came to “tell” me that it was time to turn around and go back.
“Right, it is already more than nine kilometers,” I looked at my watch. “I have to get back on my own feet
as well.”
I turned around, climbed back up and then down on the other side of the mountain range. Two and half
hours later, I happily reached my home away from home.
5 Going to Maspalomas, in preparation for what I planned next
My second workweek in Gran Canaria was fairly short, just three days from Monday to Wednesday.
Namely, Thursday was 24th
of February, that is the Independence Day and national holiday in Estonia.
Friday I simply took off from work.
“If I really want to go and see Roque Nublo, then the time is now,” I figured.
Namely, when searching for the options, I had concluded that in order to get to Roque Nublo, I first had
to go to Maspalomas and then take the bus from there to Ayacata. The trip simply wasn’t feasible in one
day; I had to stay for two nights in Maspalomas. Of course, there would have been alternatives like private
tour, but the cost of those did not make sense to me. And, after all, I wanted to see Maspalomas as well.

13
Those three working days were nothing special. I just followed my routines and went jogging or walking
on already familiar routes. I saw that even in dry San Nicolás it may sometimes rain.
“The place needs rain,” I thought, listening to the rain outside.
Monday was grey and rainy and windy. Tuesday was once again clear and I could see Tenerife farther
away. Wednesday… I do not remember what that day was. Probably usual.
Then the Thursday came. The small Big Day for me. I had my little backpack ready and accommodation in
Maspalomas booked.
“That was a good last-minute deal,” I thought about the place to stay for the next couple of nights.
For February 24th
I had planned exploring Maspalomas. Getting there by bus took me two hours and
thirteen minutes from the San Nicolás’ main bus stop. There was a transfer in Puerto de Mogán’s station.
“How much does the ticket cost?” I asked the driver of the first bus.
“For you my dear, it’s €4.80,” the driver replied.
To me, he sounded a little slippery. I don’t know if the price he asked was quite right; just a couple of days
later the bus trip from Puerto de Mogán back to San Nicolás – that is exactly the same route – cost me
just €3.80. I don’t care; after all, I was on holiday.
At 10:08 AM, I stepped out from the second bus in the bus stop of Playa del Inglés.
“Wow,” I thought, looking at the wide pedestrian promenade and a large white sand beach at a lower
level. “That’s a Playa indeed!”
The promenade and the beach, these were not what I wanted to see in Maspalomas, however. First of all,
I wanted to see Dunas de Maspalomas. It is a very touristy attraction but nevertheless, when first time in
Gran Canaria, one just has to be there as well in order to understand the diversity of the island.
Soon I was there, in the middle of the dunes.
“Almost like around Huacachina,” I recalled my trip to Peru back in 2019.
I don’t think one should make such comparisons between the places, because every place is special on its
own way. Still, while looking all the white sand around me, the thought crossed my mind.
It was a mystery to me: Gran Canaria is of volcanic origin; therefore, I would have expected black sand
rather than white. Wikipedia provided this explanation: the Maspalomas Dunes were formed by sand
from the now subdued marine shelf, when it was laid dry during the last ice age and the wind blew the
sand towards the coast of the island.

14
Me in Dunas de Maspalomas
I had wanted to walk there in the dunes and a walk I did! After all, according to the map, it was the shortest
way to my next point of interest, Faro de Maspalomas. It was not meant that tourists walk everywhere
even if it may seem so from the picture above; certain parts of the area were protected and there were
designated paths. The path that I happened to choose, was the one with very few people on it.
About a kilometer later, I thought I had had enough from marching in the sun and in the sand. The thorns
of some sort of plant here and there become pretty annoying if one walks barefoot like I did.
Then I saw a camel safari coming in my direction.
“Tourists,” I decided based on the looks of people riding the camels.
Soon enough, I was there, in the place marked in Google Maps as “Camel safari”. I just looked around,
but did not take a tour on my own. I had heard that this is irresponsible as far as camels are concerned.
Ok, in reality I simply did not fancy waiting for the next safari to depart.
Instead, I continued my walk towards the lighthouse, Faro de Maspalomas that is.
“It’s so very nice walking on the road again,” I thought while passing the Maspalomas pond.
Very clearly, the place was touristy, especially around the lighthouse – Faro de Maspalomas – and Playa
de Maspalomas right next to it. Somebody played music and a fellow tourist asked me to take a photo of

15
him. I found a grouping of sand sculptures worth capturing with my camera, got the nice even if a little
distorted panorama picture below.
Grouping of sand sculptures next to Faro de Maspalomas
After having seen Faro de Maspalomas – which in itself did not look anyhow special to me – I continued
about two kilometers towards the Playa de Meloneras. This was now a smaller beach surrounded by
hotels and holiday apartments. From there on, I turned towards my accommodation, still several
kilometers away. It was my intention to enjoy a long afternoon of just being, resting, preparing for the
next day. Well… It all went a little differently…
Already on the way to what I thought was a hotel for me to stay, I realized that my room would not have
a private bathroom. I clearly prefer one.
“How didn’t I notice this when making the reservation?” I wondered.
Normally, I pay close attention to that aspect of the room at booking, but this time I apparently had been
in a hurry and simply forgot…
Anyway… The day before, I had informed my host, that I will be there by 15:30. It was 14:58 when I rang
the bell behind the gate of what seemed a closed residential quarter. I wondered if the address that I had
been given was correct at all; there were no signs of a hotel or hostel. Nobody responded.
I turned to the Booking.com app in my phone to recheck and find some instructions. Fair enough, the
instruction from my host had just arrived.
“Dial #29 at the gate,” it said.
I dialed the number and a man’s voice responded. He said that I ought to enter via another gate, four
houses down the road. At first, I did not quite get from his accent what he said. I wrongly understood that
I had to go to the next gate. Finding that another gate closed, I returned and dialed #29 again. He explained
once again and I got it.
“Stop here!” his voice said through the microphone when he saw me at the referred gate four houses
down the road.
There was a video camera at this gate, too. The gate opened and I entered the closed territory.
“Where next?” I asked myself once inside.
The gate had closed behind me but I did not see anybody to meet and greet me, except a cat lurking
around. It took me a while until it struck me: #29 was also referring to the number of the house where I
was supposed to go! Slow, but not stupid. I strolled on the narrow paths between the houses, looking for
the one with number 29 on it. There, farther away I saw the man that had been talking to me through the

16
microphone; gesturing, he showed me the way around the corner. The path right ahead of me was blocked
due the construction works.
Soon, I was guided to my room. After showing me around – the kitchen, the bathroom, the WiFi router –
the man left, leaving me on my own. I started unpacking, preparing for the shower. The hot day had made
me sweating and I badly wanted to take a shower first.
Well, my little challenges of the day did not end here. Before closing my room’s door and going to the
bathroom, I tried the lock.
“Just for the case,” a thought run through my head. “If the lock does not work, the door locks automatically
and I cannot get in later on…”
My instinct proved right! There seemed to be no right key in the bunch of keys that the man had given
me! None of them worked. Can you believe it: there was no key for the room! There was a key for the
house, a key for the gate and a key for I do not know what, but no key for my room.
I called on the number that I found from my reservation confirmation. The man came back and tried the
lock. It still did not work.
“You can lock it only from inside,” he said, pointing to the handle for locking the door from inside.
I knew I can lock it from the inside; that wasn’t my problem.
“Yes, but when I go out, I may not be able to get in afterwards,” I said.
He saw what I meant and rushed to find another key. After unsuccessfully trying the backup key, he cursed
the lock and disappeared.
I waited. Initially I thought that maybe he went to search for yet another key. Half an hour later he had
still not returned. I called again, but he canceled the call without saying a word.
One minute later, a young woman – his daughter, as she explained – appeared on the door.
“In half an hour, a man will come to fix the lock,” she explained.
“In half an hour?!” I replied, annoyed. “Maybe you can just give me another room. I want to get started
with my afternoon already!”
She called to his father and they talked a while in Spanish.
“The man will come at once. Is that okey?”
“Okey,” I agreed.
Now I understood that it was a private house where there were just three rooms for tourists, and the
other two had been booked by other people.
The girl disappeared. If after five minutes, there still was nobody to fix the lock, I took all my stuff and
towels, and went to take a shower. It was a little disturbing too that the door of the shared bathroom
could not be locked at all. As the other tourists had not arrived yet, I did not make a big deal of it, though.
While showering, I heard that somebody had finally arrived to solve the issue with the lock of my room.
“May I?” he asked, seeing me coming a while later.
I nodded, feeling much better after the shower. Until he worked, I took out my laptop and a cup of iced
coffee that I had bought from the grocery store just before coming to the house, and started arranging
the day’s photos.
The lock wasn’t fixed. It was replaced all together. It took the man yet another forty minutes to get it
done. The funny thing is that later in the evening, I heard the same man changing the lock of the

17
neighboring room as well. Apparently, the couple that had booked this other room, had arrived and found
out that this lock was broken too.
That was that. The bottom line is that I got a story to tell.
6 Roque Nublo and Tejeda
In the next morning, I got going just before seven. I had the bus to Ayacata to catch. At least checking out
was easy: as we had agreed with the host the day before, I left the keys to the room and left. From inside,
the main gate could be opened without the keys.
From my accommodation it was about two kilometers walk to the nearest stop of the right bus. The bus
ride up to the mountains took about one hour and twelve minutes. We passed a couple of villages that I
recalled from the Gran Canaria song and/or from the tourist website2
, including Arteara and Fataga. At
each curve, the bus gave a loud signal for the oncoming cars to know: I am here!
It was a quarter past nine in the morning when I started my climb towards the big famous volcanic rock
called Roque Nublo.
“Nublu,” I called it fondly in my mind.
Nublo – it sounded like “nublu” to me, meaning “the little one”.
I noticed that the temperatures were lower up there. The Roque Nublo is the third altitude of the island
of Gran Canaria, after all. As I was climbing, I felt pretty warm, tough. Soon the small village of Ayacata
was left behind and I reached the car park from where the official 1.5 km trail to Roque Nublo started.
There were two cars and a few tourists around. With a couple of German girls, we made pictures from
each other and then I continued towards my destination.
“There you are,” I said to “Nublu” (67 meters of height!) when I saw it from the distance.
Actually, there were two rocks on a moon-like landscape: a smaller rock stood right next to the “Nublu”.
I went – climbed – as close to them as I could, and touched the “Big One”. Then I looked around. From up
there, the views to the surrounding area were just picturesque. On one side, far lower in the valley I saw
many houses.
“La Culata,” I read from Google Maps the name of the place.
2
https://www.grancanaria.com/turismo/en/

18
Roque Nublo, or “Nublu” as I called it
From my past experiences I knew that weather in the mountains can be unpredictable. What was obvious
now was fast approaching mass of clouds from the east. At once, I changed my plans for the day. Instead
of continuing my day with the walk towards Pico de las Nieves, I decided to take a safer road to Tejeda.
When I descended from Roque Nublo, I saw a large group of people approaching.
“A large tour bus,” I concluded, and was yet once again happy that I was earlier and could have Roque
Nublo just for me.
Descent to La Culata – the trail to Tejeda went through La Culata – was rather easy and pleasant one.
“Road for the white people – for the euro tourists,” I smiled to myself.
Soon after having that thought, I met a couple of white people who quickly passed me, heading towards
the Roque Nublo.
“And note: now I am in a very real forest,” I compared the area with the desert-like surroundings of San
Nicolás when continuing my walk.
A jogger approached and passed me.
While going through La Culata, I lost the hiking trail a bit, but there I already saw a not-too-busy road to
Tejeda. So, there was no fear of getting lost. Most of the way, I could enjoy bottom-up views to Roque
Nublo. In the area, there were other similar although smaller volcanic rocks as well.
In no time, I already approached Tejeda.

19
Apparently, Tejeda – a village with a population of about two thousand people – lived from tourism. The
streets of the historic center were full of tourists. Since I had still several hours till the bus back to
Maspalomas, I saw around there: went to the church (marked as one of the main tourist attractions in the
village!), looked into a souvenir shop, walked on the streets, chatted with a local woman… It was a
beautiful village in a beautiful location.
Okay, as far as chatting is concerned, she chatted in Spanish and I only smiled and nodded and smiled
again. “Hola” and “gracias” (“Hello” and “thank you”) is pretty much all that I can say in Spanish.
Somehow, by pointing towards Roque Nublo farther away, I managed to explain her that I was coming
from there. She looked at my old shabby-looking running shoes and wondered how I could have done it
with those. But I could.
Main street of Tejeda village
Finally, I stepped into a coffee shop to get a cup of coffee and something to eat. Then, already enjoying
my food and drink, I messaged my Maspalomas host (the same place and the same guy that had hosted
me last night):
“I am arriving at around 19:30. P.S.: I hope the door key is working this time.”
Clearly, I was referring to the problem with the lock the day before.
“There may be a problem in everyone's house but it has been resolved,” he responded quickly.
I hoped so.

20
While waiting for the bus back, I started to feel a little cold. It wasn’t too bad, however; I even did not
bother to take out my down jacket. Happy about the day, I got back to Maspalomas. It all went very
smoothly with the accommodation this time. The man even gave me the bigger and more luxurious room.
7 Rest of my prolonged weekend
The morning of Saturday, February 26th
, found me ready for getting up and running yet once again. Well,
actually it was my intention to take this day rather slowly: just a bus trip back to San Nicolás, with a two-
and-half-hour stop in Puerto de Mogán.
At 9 AM I reached Puerto de Mogán. With no delay, I headed towards the Mirador De Puerto De Mogán.
Getting there turned out to be quite a bit more challenging than I had expected: the narrow streets and
steps in the steep old town left room for a little adventure. At the end, I approached the lookout point
not quite the right way; I saw it, but in order to reach it, there was some rock climbing to do. Obviously,
normal people did not use that path.
The information board said that I was about 50 meters above the sea level. I looked around, and took the
pictures of the town and the harbor. Since there were nice sitting places, I sat down for a light brunch.
Other people came and went. Getting back down to the port was much easier; this time a used right way.
Then I walked to the end of the pier; it ended with a fish restaurant. Followed hanging around in the
seafront, in the beach, in the park.
“Great for taking holiday pictures,” I thought about the streets full of flowers and blossom.

21
Puerto de Mogán’s street for holiday pictures
Quite frankly, however, now I started feeling tired from the last couple of days; I already wanted to get
back to San Nicolás and simply sleep a bit. I passed the gates of Zona Arqueológica de Cañada de Los Gatos
and headed towards the bus station.
Early afternoon, I was happy to be back in my apartment. In the corridor, just behind my door, I found a
plastic bag with clean sheets that Domingo or his mum had left for me. Soon it started raining outside,
and, after having changed the sheets, I fully enjoyed my long afternoon nap. Only later in the evening
when it was already dark in the outside, I jogged to the La Aldea beach. Everything was quiet there: all
bars and restaurants were closed and except a couple of people farther away, I did not see or hear
anybody.
My planned trip had ended, but the long weekend had not. There was still full Sunday ahead. Even though
it was windy and cloudy – or maybe just because of that – I decided to take one of the Domingo’s
recommended nearby trails, the one going up to Morro de los Pinos (775 m). Yeah, thanks to the fact that
it wasn’t hot, the seven hundred meters of climbing did not feel that difficult at all.
The beginning of the trail was well known to me by that time: it was the same path that led to Mirador La
Cruz Del Siglo, the lookout that I had visited in my very first Sunday in Gran Canaria and a couple of times
after that. It’s only that at one point on the way, a signpost pointed to seemingly nowhere. Indeed, this

22
trail was barely visible. I climbed and climbed and climbed, while listening to one of my favorite podcasts.
By the way, the podcast was about travelling and travel adventures too.
Soon better views opened down to the town than I had seen from any of the nearby viewing platforms. I
was quite a bit higher, too. The landscape was rocky and pretty and colorful all at the same time. There
were red rocks and green rocks and all shades of brown, of course. Further, I also saw a signpost that
pointed towards El Risco.
“This would have been the trail, if I had decided to walk from El Risco to San Nicolás,” I thought.
It would have been a long trail for just an afternoon, indeed.
Red rocks and green rocks above San Nicolás on a grey day
After having seen the other side of the mountain range, it was time for me to turn back. Altogether, the
walk turned out to be about ten kilometers long. While climbing and fighting with the wind, it took me
more than three hours to complete! As always after this sort of physical effort, it was nice to spend the
rest of the day doing precisely nothing but some lazy person’s stuff.

23
8 Last week in San Nicolás – and moving
From February 28th
to March 5th
… It was my last week in San Nicolás. On March 5th
I already moved, but
more about that later. First, it was a full workweek in San Nicolás.
At the start of the week, I found a new shower gel and a box of Dolce Gusto coffee capsules behind my
apartment’s door waiting for me. It was as if Christmas elves had visited me in February.
“Decaffeinated,” I read from the box of coffee capsules.
Somehow my host knew that I preferred decaffeinated alternative.
The workweek was usual, that is busy. While I was working, in my mind I was there in the Tallinn office
regardless of my current physical location. During my late morning breaks, I did not take any new trails,
but went for the ones I already knew: my favorite route via Mirador La Sabinilla (twice), the one through
Mirador La Cruz Del Siglo, two different ones that led towards Cascada y Piscina Barranco del Pino Gordo.
In the evenings, I still discovered new corners of the area. I visited the two cemeteries of the town, climbed
up to the tiny-tiny village called Artejévez, got a bit lost near the little village of La Cruz.
On the other day, a group of the school children shared their enthusiasm when I jogged past them.
“One-two, one-two,” they shouted and tried to match my steps.
Chances are that they too were visiting Mirador La Cruz Del Siglo.
In Friday evening I packed most of my stuff for moving the next day. There wasn’t much to pack. As my
location for the coming two weeks, I had booked an apartment in Las Palmas area. There were two main
reasons why I had planned for the two different home offices way before arriving to Gran Canaria:
• First, Booking.com allowed me to book one place for max 30 nights and my total stay in Gran Canaria
was longer than that.
• Secondly, a different base location gave me additional options for exploring the island.
Now I informed Domingo about my departure time: Saturday morning, around 8:30 AM.
I also let my new host named Maurizio know about my approximate arrival time.
“I think I will be there on Saturday at 12:00. Would it be possible to do early check in at that time?” I asked
Maurizio as the official check in time was at 2 PM.
“I will say it this as soon as possible. I have to ask at the cleaning person if she can arrive before,” Maurizio
responded.
Later he added that my apartment would be ready by 12:15 at latest. That sounded good to me – and so
I said.
As agreed with Domingo, at 8:30 AM in the next morning I handed the apartment keys to Domingo’s mum
twenty meters down the street. The old lady thanked me generously. She only spoke Spanish but her body
language did not leave any doubt in what she said. Then I slowly walked to the town’s main bus stop. I
had left myself enough time to say goodbye to the place that had been my home for the last three weeks.
Who knows if I ever will be back here? The sky was grey, but it was not really raining. By that time, I had
learned that the rain in La Aldea typically meant just drizzling.
In order to get from San Nicolás to Las Palmas by public transport, one had to travel with two buses. The
first one, no. 101, took the traveler to Gáldar and the second one, no. 105, from there on to Las Palmas.

24
The change was to happen in the main station of Gáldar and, according to the bus schedules, there was
about twenty minutes between the two buses.
The first bus was ten minutes late. Also, it continued to move on slower than indicated in the schedule.
While it was making a “round trip” in Agaete, I started to get concerned if we were going to reach Gáldar
on time. We did; we were precise in the sense that I managed to run to the second bus just on time. I
reached Las Palmas at the time planned.
“Two and half kilometers from here to the hotel,” I calculated the remaining distance and started walking.
In about a kilometer and a half I reached Playa de Las Canteras – the famous Las Canteras Beach. Yeah,
true playa it was! Long crowded promenade, wide white sand beach, street musicians…
“Now I am apparently moving right next to the playa,” I made a mental note about my new location. “I
wonder if I can do any work here, at all.”
There was a big sand sculpture, the head of a Red Indian with the peace pipe in front of him. A man was
busy with engraving a text to the panel right in front of the pipe. Since I had extra 15 minutes till my check-
in time, I watched him working. He was very careful and he had special tools for the job.
“A true masterpiece,” I thought, “And a true master.”
It may have been his main job. In the following days I saw him every time I walked past the sculpture. He
was sitting there under the sunshade, waiting for donations. The sculpture was strategically well placed
too: whenever one wanted to get to any of the hotels farther in the main resort area, he or she had to
pass the man and his sculpture.
The master working at the masterpiece in Playa de Las Canteras

25
I reached the front door of my new apartment building seven minutes too early. A couple of other tourists
arrived at the same time. Probably they had an earlier appointment with Maurizio for he appeared on the
door at once.
“Kristi?” he asked me after having greeted them.
I nodded and was invited to the corridor.
“I will show them their room first and then I will come back to you,” Maurizio said.
I waited a few minutes. Then he came back to show me my apartment.
“Estonia,” Maurizio noticed when checking me in and taking the photo of my ID card. “May I ask you a
personal question?”
“Yes,” I agreed, wondering what was in his mind.
“Aren’t you afraid because of Russia?” he asked.
On February 24th
, Russia had begun its invasion of Ukraine. That’s what he was referring to.
“No,” I shrugged.
It had not even occurred to me that Russia might attack Baltics. Yet apparently, there were speculations
around.
“The tap water is not drinkable,” Maurizio informed me, beginning the tour in the apartment. “But we
have a bottle of water for you in the fridge.”
He showed me a blue bottle of water in the fridge.
“Nice, but what about the WiFi?” I asked the question that was important for me at the moment.
He opened the door of the cupboard:
“Here, inside.”
Inside, on the door there was a sticker with QR code for logging into the WiFi network.
“Ahaa.”
He then showed me how the washing machine worked and led me to the bathroom.
“Here is shower gel,” he said, “And there is even shampoo for you.”
“Great! I will see around – figure out what there is,” I replied, letting him go.
My new appartement was smaller than the one in San Nicolás and more expensive too.
“It’s probably because of the location,” I thought.
Still, it was very compact. Kitchen corner was well equipped.
“The table is not really meant for being used as a desk for working with laptop,” I looked at the small round
table and uncomfortable plastic chairs.
To be fair, there was no mention of the place being work-friendly in the description of the property. I
simply thought that I can manage for a couple of weeks – and I could.
After having done some unpacking, I went to the nearest supermarket. A SuperDino was just a couple of
hundred meters away. At one o’clock in Saturday afternoon it was very busy. Standing in a long queue
was a little annoying for I was hungry already. Finally, I got back to my apartment, with two large bags full
of groceries.
“That’s what happens if you go shopping hungry,” I noted to myself.

26
9 Re-Read Las Palmas
After lunch and a solid nap, I went out to my first evening walk in Las Palmas. Well, actually I had a very
specific destination in mind: the store of used books, called Re-Read Las Palmas. Namely, I was looking for
a book for the evening read. We had this little ongoing challenge with colleagues: stay away from the
screens for at least one hour each night. I needed a book.
The book store was located just about 1.8 kilometers from my apartment, nice walk mainly on the wide
promenade of the Las Canteras Beach. To my delight, I found a good choice of books in English language.
After weighing between a number of options, I picked “The Lonely Passion Of Judith Hearne” by Brian
Moore. Based on the introductions, it seemed like a bit of good old classics.
“Just this one book?” the cashier asked when I went to the counter to pay.
“Yes, just this one,” I replied, wondering why she had asked.
The answer became clear when I saw the bookmark she added to my purchase: two used books would
have cost only five euros and five books – just ten euros! For someone who can calculate the saving per
book, I must have looked pretty stupid while buying one only.
I can calculate. Math was one of my favorite subjects at school. It’s only that my calculations were
different. Slow reader as I am, within two weeks I would not have managed to read more than just that
one book of 255 pages. My backpack was small; I had no place for taking anything extra back to Tallinn
when leaving Gran Canaria in two weeks. Rushing ahead of myself, I finished the book precisely on time.
It was a good read, pretty deep.
After shopping, I did not return to home at once. Yeah, now I sort of called this new apartment “home”
because that was where I stayed for the coming nights. Instead, I followed the promenade to a big house
looking like a citadel. I wanted to know what building it was. It turned out to be a big concert hall, Alfredo
Kraus Auditorium to be precise.
10 “Pilgrimage” from Vega de San Mateo to Teror
On Sunday morning I yet once again woke up early. I was planning a bus trip to Vega de San Mateo,
followed by a walk to Teror.
First, I packed my bag for the day and at the same time, put some breads with cheese into the microwave.
The cheese started melting and filled the room with appetizing smells. Soon it became clear, that I had
seriously underestimated how fast that microwave would cook. A few minutes later, the pleasant smells
were replaced by the smells of something being clearly overcooked. Part of the bread was completely
scorched. I opened the window and turned on the wan to get the smells out of the room. Of course, I had
to prepare a new set of breads, this time more carefully.
An hour and a half later, I was there in the central bus station in San Telmo, ready to board the bus to
Vega de San Mateo. It had been five and half kilometers of walking via the Playa de Las Alcaravaneras
promenade. Playa de Las Alcaravaneras is on the same peninsula as Playa de Las Canteras, just on the
opposite side.

27
San Telmo bus station was a big one, mostly hidden underground. I think, there may have been about
thirty platforms. Fortunately, there were also screens which quickly pointed me in right direction.
Passengers were already there, waiting in queue.
“Nicely keeping distance,” I noticed, having in mind COVID restrictions that were in force at the time.
I also noticed men in uniform, equipped with some sort of guns. They were there to keep everything in
order.
Bus trip itself was relatively short and straightforward. About forty minutes later, I already “landed” on
the big Sunday market of San Mateo. Indeed, the market was right next to the bus stop. Without any
intention to buy anything, I just stepped in to see what it looked like. Big it was. However, as 9:46 AM on
Sunday morning was still relatively early for most of the tourists, it wasn’t too crowded.
Another sight in San Mateo, highlighted in the tourist maps, was the church, Iglesia de Vega de San Mateo.
So, I stepped in. It happened to be the time of the service. I kept quiet and left soon. I just did not
understand a word of what was told. Through a street that looked like part of the historic center, I headed
towards hiking trail to Teror.
I thought there was a trail, at least I had seen one in the Wikiloc maps. Well yeah, for a while I did not see
any signs of it. So, I used Google Maps to get moving in right direction. After a while on the road, a rather
old sign appeared.
“Teror, 8.5 km,” it read.
I was instructed to continue on the road – initially.
Soon, guided by another sign, I turned to a narrow walking path down into the valley. Soon I reached
gravel road. Downhill, someone was burning something. There was a lot of smoke and a smell… Like in my
apartment’s kitchen this morning, after I had almost burned my first set of breads. Whatever. Somewhere,
close to the source of that smoke, I messed up with the designated trail – I lost the signs. I suspect that
there may not have been any decent path at all for I searched and did not find anything. At the end, I had
no better solution but to turn back to the road and follow it for a couple of kilometers.
Luckily, soon I found a small road through the village of El Lomito which overlapped with the trail to Teror
from some point on. Happy, I stopped and looked around. This part of the island was quite different from
what I had seen in La Aldea, in Maspalomas, in Tejeda: it was lush green.
“That’s why they say that Gran Canaria is like a little world on its own: in any different place you get a
different idea of what it looks like!” I concluded, recalling the desert-like La Aldea, dunes in Maspalomas,
mountain walk from Roque Nublo to Tejeda and now seeing everything green.
My walk continued. Soon, near Solana village, there was yet another point where the designated trail
seemed to end in nowhere. Okay, it ended with what may have been a designated path several years
ago… Yet once again, I had to make a little detour and follow the big road.
Soon I found myself in the bottom of another valley and had to start climbing up. Okay, it wasn’t all that
much of climbing – between two and three hundred meters, I think – but hot weather and a small yet
annoying dog made it challenging. Once out from there, the look back provided rewarding views.

28
Look back to the lush green valley on the way from Vega de San Mateo to Teror
There was one more of those challenging bits of the trail where I wasn’t exactly sure if that was the path
a walker was supposed to follow.
“That’s a pilgrim’s way – and the ways of pilgrims are supposed to be difficult,” I reminded myself that I
was following a pilgrim’s path.
Pilgrimage route… Legend has it that shepherds had witnessed a Marian appropriation somewhere there
on 8 September 1481. This legend or story or whatever once made Teror an important pilgrimage
destination – and a rather prosperous one too.
Three or four kilometers still to go, I saw a family walking ahead of me. I was close enough to overhear
their talk with a local guy; they were pretty loud. The talk was in Spanish but this much I understood that
the local guy was upset about people marching on “his” road.
“Privado!!!” he cried.
As far as I got from the voices and the body language of the walkers ahead of me, they explained that this
was a designated hiking trail; they had already looked for alternative routes but had not find any. This
explanation seemed to quiet down the local guy. I followed my forerunners with no fuss whatsoever.
From then on, the walk became fairly easy and fun. Teror was already in sight and the road was mostly
downhill. Several others were heading this way too – even if they most probably had not done the full
hike from San Mateo.

29
In Teror too, I happened right to the Sunday market. At first, I saw only a quarter of it.
“Well, there is something,” I thought, being surprised by all the crowds that I saw around.
Nobody seemed to be afraid of catching COVID.
“If that was a pilgrim walk, then I am supposed to end it in the main church,” I thought.
After all, Basílica de Nuestra Señora del Pino was yet another recommended place to visit on the tourist
map of Gran Canaria. Apparently, it was popular among the tourists, too. There was a rather long queue
behind the door. On the other side of the building, I found another door and a shorter queue. In I got.
The church was rather crowded, but not by true believers but by the tourists. There was some sort of
ceremony going on which looked like a mass but wasn’t. I took my pictures and video shots and walked
away. There I was, right on the main street of Teror’s historic center.
On the historic street of Teror
Honestly though, rather than admiring the houses and architecture, I was annoyed by the crowds. After
the not-so-short-walk, I was a little tired too. Effectively, I rushed through the street, taking pictures and
video shots on the way. I rushed to the bus back to San Telmo, because I did not dare to wait for the next
one. Exploring the town more thoroughly is for some time in future. There has to be a reason for going
back to Gran Canaria, after all.

30
Loaded with impressions and with the battery of my not-so-new Galaxy S8 pretty much depleted, I
reached San Telmo. Followed a rather lazy walk (5+ kilometers, though!) back to my apartment. I had
earned my afternoon of doing nothing but resting, eating and reading the book that I had purchased in
previous evening.
11 Everyday hits yet evening feels like being on holiday
The next day after Sunday was… Surprise-surprise, Monday. It was the first workday for me in my new
home-office. I felt as if forever had passed since the last Friday evening when I last logged out of my virtual
office. Quite a lot had happened over the weekend – at least according to my standards. I had moved to
another very different place. I had almost burned down the house. Okay, this is an exaggeration, but the
smell of scorched breads was still discernible. I had had my little adventure on the way from San Mateo
to Teror…
Our team’s virtual meeting brought me quickly back to earth: WiFi connection was too weak for video
calls! My colleagues on the other side of the screen kept freezing all the time and I lost fair bit of what
was said. Furthermore, I happened to have rather noisy neighbors and the walls were thin, too. To manage
the situation at my best, I spoke very little and had the microphone turned off most of the time.
Fortunately, it was not my turn to do a presentation this week.
The good news was that freezing video calls aside, the WiFi connection was still strong enough for me to
do my job. I experienced no remarkable issues in messaging, making data queries etc.
Overall, my workday routine stayed the same. As usual, I had my late morning run. Only the route was
different: I went jogging to the wide Playa de Las Alcaravaneras promenade. Already the day before when
walking to the San Telmo bus station, I had seen other people sporting here. So naturally, it was the first
running route in Las Palmas that came into my mind. It was an easy run too, completely flat. Four
kilometers one way and then back. Here and there I stopped to capture bits of surroundings with my
camera.
In the evening, I headed to La Isleta, the somewhat weird-looking little tail of Gran Canaria. My apartment
was on that peninsula anyway, so it was a short walk. Lomo de los Dos Morros – that’s how my intended
point of destination was called on Google Maps. More specifically, it was market on the map as a hiking
area.
First, there was yet another playa, Playa del Confital. This one wasn’t neither a sandy beach nor a beach
where one is supposed to swim. Rather, it was a place where one comes to listen to the sound of ocean
waves. In this warm evening, many people seemed to be willing to do just that – or simply walk their dogs.
When the wooden beach road ended, I turned to the hiking trail. Actually, it was a wide well marked gravel
road, apparently liked by many. I walked on it a little bit, then turned to what seemed to be an old lava
field. There was a viewing point to look back to Las Palmas and reflect. Photos done, I returned to the
hiking trail and followed it to the end. It ended with a small curve and barbed wire; behind the wire there
was a warning sign, written in big, bold, red letters:
“Zona Militar. No Pasar.”
I did not have to be a Spanish speaker to understand the message there:

31
“Military area. No passing.”
Las Palmas panorama from La Isleta
While thinking about going the same way back to my apartment, I saw a man some twenty meters ahead
of me – apparently doing his evening walk as well. He turned to a narrow sidewalk. I decided to follow
him, keeping a polite distance of course. So that it would not look as if I was following him, which I in fact,
did. The guy seemed to know where he was going.
“Because if you don’t, I don’t know where I am going either,” I said silently to myself.
It wasn’t exactly true. I wasn’t afraid of getting lost. I knew where I was and I saw where we were heading.
Soon we started climbing to an “upper level”. I almost lost the track; the trail was barely visible and the
man was too far ahead to match his footsteps. Then I caught up. After a while, our ways departed. He
headed towards a bunch of houses which, as I later learned, was Las Coloradas. It was time for me to
return to my apartment, now really. First, however, I had to climb the nearest hill which was on my way.
The hilltop was windy, yet provided absolutely great views to the main tourist area of Las Palmas – and to
the ferry terminal. Up there, someone had decided to set up his or her temporary home, a colorful tent.
He or she even had a cat lurking around.

32
I almost stumbled upon someone’s home
My way back to civilization wasn’t the smoothest one. While trying to find a direct path, I seemed to have
lost all paths. I knew, there was a cliff uncomfortably close; I watched my steps carefully and happily
reached the big road. From there on, it was an easy walk.
When I reached my apartment, I was really satisfied with my day. Regardless the hassles with the WiFi
connection earlier in the day, I had had an evening that was almost too good to be true for just another
Monday evening.
12 Rest of the first workweek in Las Palmas
Common denominator for the next four days was ‘workday’. Thankfully, WiFi connection was stronger
than on Monday. I think it may have been because of the weather: people were out on the beach and
internet usage was low. Did I miss being on the beach with them? No, not really. It was the birthday week
of the company I was working for; our virtual meetings were fun and there were plenty of them. (Cake
and drinks I had to buy myself, of course. For me, it did not make much of a difference.) In other words,
as weird as it may sound, I enjoyed sitting in front of the computer screen; in my mind, I was somewhere
else, thousands of kilometers away.

33
Yeah, that’s the thing with the remote working: sometimes it feels as if you are living in two parallel
realities. As soon as I went out, the local reality – the reality where my physical body was – materialized.
I had my late morning jogging rounds and I explored my surroundings in the evenings. I had two lives.
Almost. Lucky me: both of these lives were good.
On Tuesday evening I yet once again headed towards La Isleta. This time I followed the sidewalk of the
road that led to the remote settlement which I had seen the last night from the hilltop. I wondered what
place that was.
“Las Coloradas,” I read at the entrance to the small complex of houses.
For some reason, I had expected to find a touristy place. Instead, to my surprise, the village – or remote
part of Las Palmas or whatever Las Coloradas was – looked like a very normal residential area for people
from lower middle class. That’s what I’d say based on appearances. I could not be sure who were the
people who actually lived there – and how the remote complex of houses happened.3
Entrance to Las Coloradas
On Wednesday evening I unexpectedly happened to the permanent exhibition of Martín Chirino’s works
in Castillo de la Luz. I had no clue who that Martín Chirino was or that there had ever been a man named
3
Later, I found this bit of information from a travel blog:
https://grancanariatraveltips.wordpress.com/2018/05/10/las-coloradas-a-new-village-in-the-city/

34
Martín Chirino. On my previous walks to La Isleta, I had simply noticed a signpost, pointing towards what
sounded like a castle.
“Let’s go and see what that castle looks like,” I thought.
Making a circle on the neighboring streets, I wandered to the castle, located on the southern coast of La
Isleta. From the information board at the gate, I read:
“The castle/fortress was originally in the bay and formed part of the defense system needed to fight of
marauding troops from Holland and England. It was declared as National Historical Monument as the first
fortress to be built in the city in 1494.”
The gate was open and I walked into the castle’s garden. Initially, the castle looked empty, but the door
was open.
“Okay, a tourist attraction where you have to buy a ticket,” I concluded.
Sure enough, farther away there was another building which looked like a ticket office. Seeing some
information boards over there, I went closer just to see what’s written there. Not surprisingly, I found
opening times and ticket prices.
“General admission: 4 euros,” the text on the board said.
Just by chance, I noticed that on Wednesdays from 4 PM to 7 PM the admission was free! And it happened
to be a Wednesday!
“If it’s for free then I have to go and check it out, even though I had no plans for going in,” I decided.
At the castle’s door there was a lonely-looking security guard.
“Hello,” I said and wanted to walk in.
“Your ticket please,” he asked politely.
“I thought, it’s free on Wednesdays,” I replied, confused.
“Yes, but you still have to get a ticket from the ticket office.”
So, I run back to the ticket office and got my 0-Euro ticket.
When I returned, the security guard happily scanned my ticket and explained the intended trajectory for
visitors.
“The tower is closed at the moment,” he added.
“Okay, thank you!” I said and started my tour from the beginning, that is from an information board about
the castle itself.
Then I glanced at the pamphlet which was handed to me in the ticket office alongside with the ticket. I
learned that at present day, the castle is the headquarters of the Martín Chirino Foundation. Martín
Chirino himself was a Spanish sculptor, born in Las Palmas in the Las Canteras area in 1925. (He passed
away in Madrid, in 2019) This is, what was said about his art works:
“Martín Chirino starts from iron as the conductive metal of a work that seeks its maximum expressive
potential with a minimum of material. His sculptures, usually large, respond to a double impulse: on the
one hand, the dialogue with primitive art and the native materials and landscape of the Canary Islands,
read through the eyes of imaginative evocation and the memory of that adolescent artist who dreamed of
moving the horizon of his beach; on the other, a powerful signic impulse that generates all kinds of spatial

35
geometries, generally curved (spirals), capable of illuminating the space that surrounds them and being at
the same time, for those who contemplate them, enigma and revelation.”4
Many of those works I got to see now, while visiting the castle.
“Maximum expressive potential with a minimum of material – I like that philosophy,” I thought.
Other than that, I really did not get what one or another piece of art was all about.
“Poetic and useless tool,” I read from yet another information board on the wall.
Well, that explained – sort of. You do not have to always look for meaning if there is none.
“Poetic and useless tool”, a piece of art by Martín Chirino
Some of those “tools” were inspired by the wind, the others by the ocean waves… It was amazing how
well this random visit cleaned my head from the thoughts of the workday and brought me to another
wavelength!
While I walked around, watched the pieces of art and occasionally glanced at the information boards, the
security guard that had greeted me at the door, made his circles too.
“Just to make sure that everything is in order,” I concluded.
4
More information on Martín Chirino and Martín Chirino Foundation can be found in the web:
http://www.fundacionmartinchirino.org/

36
There seemed to be nobody else in the building. When I had finished my tour and prepared to leave, he
thanked me for the visit.
The evenings of Thursday and Friday brought me a couple of the most wonderful sunsets that I had ever
seen in my life. From my apartment, it was just a short walk to the perfect viewing spot. The sun was
setting between 19:00 and 19:10 behind the Montaña de Guía, Gran Canaria. From distance, a mountain
of Tenerife appeared as if it were the shadow of Montaña de Guía. It was magical, simply magical. Street
music from the promenade of Las Canteras Beach added to the mix.
A sunset in Las Canteras beach
13 Caldera de Bandama
I looked into my rather loose winter office schedule which I had created before my departure from
Estonia. Except flight times and accommodation reservations, the holiday part of my schedule was not
something to follow strictly; it was rather in style “one weekend I might do this and on the other weekend
I might to that”. For this last full Saturday in Gran Canaria, I had Caldera de Bandama left in the agenda.
Caldera de Bandama… I “stumbled” upon it when reading yet another travel blog:
“… A volcanic basin appears out of nowhere, challenging day-trippers to find the best hidden wine press
for miles around…”

37
Sounds pretty inviting, eh?
I felt energized and exited to get up early on Saturday morning.
“This time I will not burn my breads,” I decided, recalling the little accident last Sunday.
The smell of the sad burned breads had been there in my room for longer than I’d have loved to… Ok,
sometimes shit happens – and good if it does not come in piles. I did not burn my breads; I got them just
perfect.
After the breakfast, I first walked to the San Telmo bus station. Now the way was familiar already. I got to
the bus as planned – I think it was no. 311, but would not bet on that. The little ocher yellow bus pavilion
of Bandama welcomed me at around 10:15 AM. Pretty much the first thing that I saw once out of the bus,
was a sign post pointing towards Caldera de Bandama. I headed in the direction indicated.
“Where there is a popular tourist attraction, there are tourists too,” I noticed other people ahead of me.
We were walking on a decent path that led to the bottom of the crater of a volcano that had erupted
nearly 2,000 years ago. The trail was built out, yet pebbly and a little slippery. While watching my steps, I
was still faster than my forerunners. Soon I passed the fellow people to meet face to face a Gran Canaria
giant lizard.
“He (or she?) thinks, I do not see him if he doesn’t move,” I guessed while taking a picture of the motionless
reptile.
The one-plus-something kilometers long trail to the bottom ended near the ruins of a house. That was the
place where the renowned wine press stood. A small group of German guys was already there, occupying
the best place to take selfies. Whatever. I looked around – looked up. The caldera was an almost perfect
circle, about two hundred meters deep and one thousand meters wide.
Then I stepped to the wine press.
“The oldest in this wine-growing area – maybe – but seems like left on its own, not restored,” I observed.
It might have been an important house and a historic wine cellar, but to me the ruins of the house simply
looked like ruins of a house… with people’s names engraved to the stone wall because some people simply
love to leave their names on the walls. I looked around and continued on a narrow path in the bottom of
the caldera. The walk was peaceful and beautiful… In the forest of wild olive trees.

38
The wine press in the bottom of Caldera de Bandama
The path formed a small circle and soon I was back at the ruins of the house. It was time go back up.
“Coming down was way easier!” I realized. “What a surprise!”
Many people were coming down. The others stood there on the small beautiful viewing platform, about
160 meters up from the bottom, and watched me climbing. Soon I was there myself, enjoying the views
and watching the others climbing.
Climbing up from the bottom of caldera wasn’t enough climbing for me. There was still Pico de Bandama
which I wanted to conquer. Ok, it wasn’t a particularly high mountain – it was more like a hill. I noticed a
narrow and steep walking path leading up, but soon there were forbidding signs on my way: no passing.
Hence, I did not have any other option than to follow the spiral road meant for the cars.
“It is the kind of pico you can drive through,” I observed.
Indeed: the road ended at the top of the hill and pretty much made a circle around a tourist office around
there. That tourist office – closed at the time – was located just a couple of meters higher on the hilltop,
and was surrounded by a viewing platform.
Up there on the viewing platform there were young people sitting, chatting, eating their lunch breads. I
did not bother them but went to see the views. First, the view to the bottom of the caldera… The ruins of
the old winery – or whatever the house there in the bottom of caldera once used to be – were clearly
visible. I noticed a trail around the caldera and decided to go for it next. On the other side, the city of Las
Palmas looked just a stone's throw away. Continuing with my circle, there were several villages or towns

39
or whatever settlements around. My circle ended with a view to the golf course; there it was: Real Club
de Golf De Las Palmas, and the road leading to it full of parked cars. Yep, it was a 360-degree view from
up there, 569 meters above the sea level. Coming down, I got a view to the village of Bandama. It was a
really tiny village.
Having been both in the bottom and in the top of Bandama, I went to circle the caldera. The path was jus
a little more than three kilometers long, but ouch-yeah, these were not exactly the easiest three
kilometers of my life. There were plenty of ups and downs, the pebbly trail was slippery here and there,
and small pebbles easily found a way into my right shoe. The later was because my shoe had a “ventilation
hole” at the top of the toe box; by that time, my shoes were quite worn from all the walking I had done
already. The effort paid itself: I was rewarded with great views both to the bottom of the caldera and to
the valley on the other side; there were easy and fun bits on the way too.
Caldera de Bandama and Pico de Pandama from the circle trail around the caldera
The path ended on the edge of the golf course. Followed an easy walk back to the ocher yellow bus stop
of Bandama. The bus was about to come… in an hour and thirty minutes! I had enough time to eat my
lunch and read my book, which I thankfully had brought with me.

40
14 The wall of weird cavities
My Sunday was about the history and the ancient Canarians. Now, on my fifth Sunday on the island, I felt
like ready for a special cultural experience, ready to visit an archeological site of Gran Canaria – which
there are numerous.5
My choice was Cenobio de Valerón, this in two reasons:
a) the site looked the most interesting to me based on the descriptions (“This vertical fortress with more
than 350 holes, like a giant hive, is actually an enormous grain store built by the ancient aborigines more
than 800 years ago.”6
), and
b) from Las Palmas, it was easily accessible by bus.
Easily accessible by bus… This had been my impression when I had looked at the Google Maps and the
bus schedules in the evening before. It turned out that the bus dropped me off in a random bus stop at
the highway connecting Las Palmas and Gáldar.
“What the heck is she going to do here?” some fellow passengers seemed to have a silent question in
mind when seeing me stepping out of the bus.
Quite frankly, at that moment I wasn’t sure: what the heck am I going to do here?! The sky was grey and
it had started drizzling and there were no paths for pedestrians. According to Google Maps, I was
supposed to get to the other side of the highway, but there really was no way over the road.
Still, there was a way – if not over the road, then from under the road. I soon found a smaller road and a
tunnel to the other side of the highway. Next, I already saw a sign pointing towards Cenobio de Valerón.
Even though the sidewalk ended soon, getting on was easy as there were not many cars passing by. A
couple of kilometers later, the relatively wide road became a rather narrow one, and turned towards the
hills. I wondered where those caves – as a bunch of caves that ancient fortress looked like on pictures –
were. Nothing resembled a major archeological park.
It turned out that all there was visible from the road right next to the “fortress”, were an information
board on the left side of the road and a small ticket office on the right side, on the way uphill. I headed
towards the ticket office for I knew already that there was a ticket and that it cost three euros.
The young guy in the ticket office seemed to enjoy chatting with the tourists. First, he took his time for
the couple in front of me.
“Just one regular ticket,” I said when it was my turn.
“Aren’t you a student or something?” he asked. “For students we have special prices, just two euros.”
“Sadly not,” I wasn’t really sad.
“Where are you from?”
“From Estonia.”
“Ooh, Estonia! That’s good, that’s good!”
I nodded and ended the conversation; there were people lining up behind me.
Frankly speaking, I had come unprepared: I did not know virtually anything about Cenobio de Valerón. I
had just looked at the pictures and thought that the place seems cool. Now, once here, I took my time to
read the information boards. After all, the site turned out to be a rather small one, not much walking
5
Find the map of the archeological sites on the island of Gran Canaria in web, e.g.:
https://www.google.com/maps/d/viewer?mid=12hk5umVwdaPg3c3kqkEgwdRBBwk&ll=27.981284571740815%2C
-15.61074879999999&z=11
6
Source: https://www.grancanaria.com/turismo/en/culture/archaeological-sites/cenobio-de-valeron/

41
required. There were just stairs, going up to a large cave, 25 meters high and 30 meters wide. Inside the
large cave, there appeared lots of small caves and cavities, and in some of these small caves one could
see yet smaller cavities. Besides, on the way up there was a cave which looked like the home of a caveman.
Also, inside the big cave there were a couple of “homes”.
Cenobio de Valerón ahead
I learned that the strange appearance of the cavities had caused confusion for Spanish colonizers and
early scholars. They misunderstood the odd-looking site for a pre-Hispanic monastery.
“No wonder that this wall of cavities once caused confusion,” I thought. “Without the information boards
I had no clue what this is all about!”
Still, how could anyone think of the place as ancient monastery? Most of the cavities looked way too small
for living.
“One could barely sit in one,” I observed.
It turned out that the site was the largest pre-Hispanic collective granary on the island. I further read that
there have been other similar granaries found in North Africa, for example.
Lastly, I enjoyed the views from the cavemouth to the surrounding area. Then I got going. Instead of
walking back the same way as I had come, I continued on the road which had led me here. I knew from
the map that eventually I will end up at the highway in another bus stop. From the other side of the valley,
the cave with its cavities was clearly visible – now I knew what to look for.

42
At around noon, I reached Las Palmas. It had been a short day – and an educationally useful one. For the
rest of the day, I wanted just rest and read my book. The evening provided yet another amazing sunset.
15 Windy days and Las Palmas
Crash! A loud sharp noise woke me up in the middle of the night. Something slammed the window of my
bedroom. I got up and closed the window. Wow, it was windy outside!
Strong winds continued the next day and the day after. When I went jogging via Playa del Confital to La
Isleta – now my usual trail – there was nobody but me and a woman walking her dog. The waves of the
Atlantic Ocean were big and strong. It was rather warm, still. My evening walk on the promenade of Playa
de Las Canteras was much about fighting with the wind. On my way back, I went for the easier, chose the
streets instead of the promenade. Windsurfers appeared to be enjoying the weather; they got a wild ride.
Windsurfers getting a wild ride at Playa de Las Canteras
In Monday afternoon when returning from the nearby SuperDino, I met Maurizio at the door of my
apartment building.
“Everything all right?” he asked while holding the door open for me. “Do you need something? New
towels?”

43
“All right,” I replied. “I found new towels from the closet.”
There was no point to start complaining about the not-the-strongest WiFi connection and somewhat noisy
neighbors. What could he do about those things anyway? Also, by that time, I had got used to this reality
– and I was to stay there only for a few more days.
“Great then. See you the other day.”
“See you,” I said and climbed up the stairs.
I never saw him again, at least not on this trip. See you – it’s just what people say.
On Thursday afternoon at around 4 PM I closed my virtual office for the last time in this location. In the
evening and in the next day, I just wanted to be a tourist in Las Palmas. Or rather, I wanted to just be,
wander around and just be. One doesn’t have to do sort of orchestrated activities every day.
I watched lottery sellers, who were out there no matter the weather. I went to the parks. I paid a visit to
a church which just happened to be there on my way, and donated 50 cents to light an electric candle for
whatever reason or no reason at all. I stepped into a couple of bars where there always seemed to be a
big screen and a guy watching football. Eh, “always” – one really should not draw conclusions just based
on a couple of examples. I had long evenings of reading to finish my book.
On Friday, my wanderings led me past the San Telmo central bus station, to the historic center of Las
Palmas. Again, I had not done much of the background research, just read from Wikipedia a little about
Las Palmas in general. Now I let sign posts and Google Maps to guide me.
There were tourists and outdoor caffes and street musicians.
“That one cow looks very similar to the one I saw in Funchal,” in noticed an Ale-Hop cow in front of the
Ale-Hop shop. “The only difference is that here, the cow does not wear a mask and a red dwarf hat, but
has an umbrella instead.”
“Plaza Del Pilar Nuevo – square; Casa de Colón – museum; San Antonio Abad – another museum; Caam –
one more museum…” a few minutes later I spelled the names from the signposts, while heading in the
direction where all of these signs pointed.
Soon I found myself from the Plaza de Santa Ana, the charming square in front of the Catedral
Metropolitana de Santa Ana de Canarias. In the other end of the square, there was another building that
looked significant. I walked over the square to that other building and took a picture of the big cathedral.
“There are people up there, in the tower and on the roof of the cathedral!” I noticed.
Going up cost one euro and fifty cents. First, with a couple of other tourists, I took the elevator to the
roof.
“I see: that’s where they take the pictures that you find when typing “Las Palmas old town” to the Google
search,” I concluded.
I easily found stairs that led even higher, to the tower. The platform around the tower was really narrow,
almost non-existent. This made me wondering how people bigger than me could maneuver there.
Anyway… I walked around the tower, watched the views, and then took the stairs down, back to the Earth.

44
View to the Plaza de Santa Ana and beyond from the roof of the Catedral Metropolitana de Santa Ana de
Canarias
“Columbus House – and again there is a ticket price,” I decided to skip the visit to the Casa de Colón this
time.
It was not the day for museums. Instead, I chose to visit the building that housed the colorful food market
Mercado De Vegueta. I wasn’t the only one with the camera there.

45
Colors of Mercado De Vegueta
Some time later, it was time to set my steps back to my Las Palmas apartment. It was a decent six-plus-
something kilometers walk, after all.
16 Back to Estonia
On Saturday morning, I again packed my things, filled the COVID forms and checked in to my flights first
from Las Palmas to Brussels and then from Brussels to Tallinn. I was in no hurry; the boarding time to
Brussels was 6 PM in the evening. Already earlier, we had agreed with Maurizio that I go when I go, and
leave the apartment keys to the table; the door would lock behind me automatically.
Last check around in the apartment that had been my home for the last couple of weeks: have I packed
all my stuff, not forgotten anything? No, I had not packed everything. I deliberately left my book for the
next guests as I had finished it myself.
“Because it is sometimes so nice to find a good book from the shelf of your holiday home,” I thought.
That was it, I was ready to get going. After all, after five weeks, it was time to go back. Back to home – and
show myself up in the physical office once in a while. With a decisive move, I closed the apartment’s door
behind me.

46
I could have taken a taxy but I did not. Instead, I yet once again walked to the San Telmo bus center,
familiar by now. Direct bus – #60 – from San Telmo to the airport departed every 30 minutes, so I did not
have to worry about that. Early afternoon, I was already there in the airport.
While there was still plenty of time left till my flight, I ordered a large Costa Coffee Mocha, sat into an
airport café and started the blog about my memories on the island. A middle-aged couple was sitting and
cuddling right next to me. It was a little annoying, but because of the plug in the wall – the source of
energy for my laptop – I could not move.
Las Palmas – Gran Canaria (LPA) airport was pretty big. I was a little annoyed by the fact that the departure
gates were announced just about fifteen minutes before the scheduled boarding time. Who likes standing
in front of the screen and waiting for the gate to appear? Okay, it wasn’t that bad: at least there was an
indication of the time when the gate would be disclosed. At first, passengers of my flight were directed to
gate A12, but instructed to watch for the possible gate changes on the screen.
Finally, I stood in the queue at gate A10, waiting for the boarding. A woman approached me and wanted
to know if she could ask me some questions.
“Yes, sure,” I replied.
What better I had to do while waiting than answering to a survey?
Where are you from? What did you do in Gran Canaria? How long were you in Gran Canaria? Where did
you stay? How much did you pay for your accommodation? Did you go to restaurants? How much money
did you spend on food? Did you go to any tours? What sort of sports did you do? What sort of job do you
do back home? How much do you earn? And on and on. How much money did you spend in total?
“My salary is pretty low – I am paying myself pretty little,” I gave a not-too-informative answer about my
income and my job. “I work under my own company, offering services to the other companies.”
“I don’t know. Give me a calculator,” I was finally puzzling about the last question. “Seven hundred
something for the first accommodation, five hundred something for the second accommodation, 12-15
euros per day for food, couple of taxi drives and local buses, some tickets… You can calculate.”
She continued insisting me to say a number. I then said just a round number: two thousand and five
hundred sounded logical.
“Good bless you,” she thanked me and went to search the next “victim”.
“This one will be my last one today. Then I go home,” I heard her mumbling when she moved away from
me.
The plane – Brussels Airlines – arrived about forty minutes late. The delay made no difference for me: for
the night, I had planned to stay in the Brussels Airport anyway. When we landed in Brussels, it was already
past one o’clock in the night.
Once there in the airport building, I figured that there was no requirement for me to go out of the security
gates just to get back in in the next morning. This was good news. Going through the security with two
laptops and all my other stuff… It definitely wasn’t something I wanted to do more times than absolutely
necessary. My second quest was quest for food. As I had not had neither proper lunch nor dinner, I felt
quite hungry. Sweets and energy bars had made me graving for something salty, too. None of the cafés
or kiosks were open, so I got a bag of chips from the food vending machine.

47
I hanged around in the airport building, half asleep but not really able to sleep. Already before 4 AM, some
cafés and shops started to open. Somehow restless, I then sat down and waited and watched new people
coming in for the early morning flights. The hours passed.
Boarding to the flight from Brussels to Tallinn was scheduled to 8:30 AM. AirBaltic was precise. Boarding
went fast, too: there were not many passengers flying to Tallinn this Sunday morning.
“Maybe travelers are afraid of the Russian aggression,” I thought, having the changed geopolitical
situation in mind.
After the sleepless night I spent most of the flying time sleeping. At my arrival to Estonia, the spring was
just about to begin. It was March 20th
. There sky was cloudless. I had never had such a clear view to my
home country…
In the morning of March 20th
, I saw Estonia. First, I recognized the Vormsi island.

48
17 Conclusion
In conclusion… What to say in conclusion? I am glad I did it. I wanted to do it and I did it! I needed that
energy boost for whatever was in store for me next. Nobody suffered from my physical absence – hardly
anyone even noticed.
Gran Canaria… The island is indeed a little World on its own, a trip around the Sun as the lyrics of the Gran
Canaria song go. While staying in one place, one would get a completely different idea as compared to
the idea that another person staying in another place would get.
Yeah, for me as a person it definitely was yet another positive remote working experience. The time
abroad was good for both, for my mental and for my physical health. As for my mental health, there was
no risk of overworking whatsoever. Concerning physical health… Well, that one should be rather obvious:
given the time of the year, the climate was just way better there. As a bonus, there are special memories
from the little adventures on the way.
As far as the “office” part of the remote home-office is concerned… If there is a very real physical distance
between you and your colleagues, there is a distance. There is good and there is bad in that.
The good: People cannot “jump on you” at random times, so you can focus at the job at hand.
The bad: You cannot participate in Friday celebrations and/or have instantaneous conversations with
people at lunch time or over a cup of coffee; this means that building personal connections you need for
getting things done is way more difficult.
This was my way to survive this last winter. Next winter, go find your own way and enjoy (if you haven’t
found one already )!

49
18 References
My Gran Canaria vlog (in Estonian) in YouTube:
Talvekontor Gran Canaria'l (veebruar-märts 2022) - YouTube
Lyrics of the song Gran Canaria by Edward Fox & the Animal Kingdom:
https://edwardfoxandtheanimalkingdom.bandcamp.com/track/gran-canaria

Winter Office in Gran Canaria

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Similar to Winter Office in Gran Canaria

Similar to Winter Office in Gran Canaria (13)

More from Kristi Rohtsalu

More from Kristi Rohtsalu (20)

Recently uploaded

Recently uploaded (11)

Winter Office in Gran Canaria