‘I MEET many Scottish people,” smiles Ivan. “I think Scotland is similar to us in northern Fuerteventura – you are strong, living with the wildness of nature and you quickly let strangers become friends.”
Ivan quickly became my friend, a lifelong Corralejo resident who shares my passion for this remarkable corner of Macaronesia.
I met Ivan last year on one of his tours with the excellent local company Kali Travel, who open up the glorious scenery beyond the resort town of Corralejo. He remembered me as “the Scottish guy who left the bus back in the middle of nowhere to walk back 10km to Corralejo”.
As with the Scottish Highlands I walk everywhere I can in Fuerteventura’s north. It too has soaring mountains (almost all volcanoes), a wild rock-savaged coast gazing out to distant isles (Lanzarote and Lobos), white sand beaches and surging glens, here known as barrancos; almost universally bone dry.
In this soul-stirring landscape there are traces of people long gone. The original inhabitants of Fuerteventura were known as the Mahos. They stood little chance when Spanish conquistadores arrived with their warships.
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Atop 400m-high Tindaya there are carvings, voices from the past we cannot yet read; as mystical as our Pictish symbols. They are more modern ghosts too, abandoned cottages a sign of a life changed greatly since jet travel brought mass tourism.
Corralejo has managed to embrace tourism without being deluged like a barranco after rain. “Corralejo is still Corralejo,” explains Ivan. “We have the heart and soul of a village, where we are now you can still find fishermen. We have not been swamped like the south of Tenerife and Gran Canaria.”
Where we are now is the apartment where Ivan grew up, which he rents out, Casa Nieves Corralejo. It comfortably sleeps two and can squeeze in a couple of children too.
We dram on its wee balcony and I ask him about Corralejo’s multinational atmosphere.
“Other resorts target one nationality. We try to welcome everyone. There are British, but also many French and Italians. We’ve also got the watersports guys, the original residents and mainland Spanish tourists, who appreciate the authenticity.”
I come to Corralejo every year as it is easily my favourite Canarian resort. You’ve got white sand beaches, as well as the epic protected dunes nearby. There is a shopping strip that delights my teenage daughter Tara with its glitzy fashion brands; 11-year-old Emma is equally enthralled by the tat stores.
There are fancy restaurants, but also a brilliant pizzeria (Vivi), plus everything from artisan ice cream parlours to bubble tea shops, tapas bars to Irish pubs; on to sushi bars. And yes a welcoming Scottish bar, An Caisteal. Almost all of them are small-scale independent businesses.
After a couple of nights at Ivan’s place we move to the Barcelo Sands (www.barcelo.com), which quickly becomes my favourite family hotel in Corralejo. I’m not always a fan of all-inclusive, but it works really well for us all. The dinner buffets are varied, with a la carte lunches poolside, while we have both a terrace to play games on and an outdoor hot tub. Kids are allowed into the spa to use the thermal circuit too.
Ivan tells me about a hike I’ve not done. I catch the bus to Lajares and bash south to find magical Barranco Encantado, with rock formations so otherworldly films are shot here. I descend down Barranco Esquinzo, returning greenery guiding me to an Atlantic beach.
The glorious beaches here south of Cotillo could never stay a secret forever. Still these massive sweeps of sand have plenty of space for everyone. Tracking north I meet my family after 25km of walking at Ancla. At this authentic Canarian restaurant the owner Domingo guides us through eel fries (yes, really), grilled squid and fresh fish so local I’ve not tried either species before in dozens of trips to Macaronesia.
We explore more of Northern Fuerteventura. La Oliva, administrative hub of the northern municipality, used to be Fuerteventura’s capital and its grandeur lingers.
The modern world slips further away in Los Molinos (The Windmills). The Atlantic roars; more cats than people amble around. It’s also home to the madcap Las Bohemias Del Amor, where I’ve seen the owner ask punters to check the seasoning on his paella as it’s cooking. Very Northern Fuerteventura.
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My girls are intrigued by the “surfer bakers” of Lajares, who sought the wild surf and transformed the village with their baking skills. I make them work for their cake on a circular hike up Calderon Hondo (278m) and Montana Colorada (248m), peering inside a volcanic crater and meeting the local squirrels.
On our last day we bounce across the surf to the Parque Natural Islote de Lobos, part of the Unesco Biosphere that stretches across Fuerteventura. I share my favourite beach in a protected lagoon and swim, snorkel and lunch on majorero sandwiches, made with the delicious Fuerteventura goat’s cheese. Corralejo winks back and I raise a toast to Ivan and his spectacular corner of the world.
EasyJet fly to Fuerteventura from Edinburgh
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