Lanzarote - a jewel in the European crown.

Lanzarote- a jewel in the European crown.

It is about this time in the year when most of us dust down our summer swimming trunks, cast a longing eye towards May, June and July and wonder what time the plane will arrive for one of those sun lit days in the Mediterranean. We dream optimistically  of the day when we can finally throw away those winter inhibitions and rush out towards the golden sands of an idyllic beach where it always seems to be hot.

Back in the early 1970s British tourists were novices and learners, uninitiated in the ways and lifestyles of the Spanish siesta, bullfighters and those very exotic flamenco dancers. We were then serenaded at night by those pitch perfect chirruping crickets, our ears caressed tenderly by the distant sound of  'Y Viva Espana'. We came down to breakfast after a hard night of unrelenting sangria drinking only to be faced by that now traditional breakfast of bread rolls, trays of cheese, simply presented yoghurts, toasters that popped up toast when the mood took them and then an endless supply of coffee and tea should you have needed it.

Last night my wife and I arrived back from a short winter break on the stunning islands of Lanzarote, a huge, sprawling holiday resort that many British holiday makers have more or less taken for granted. Personally this was one holiday destination that both of us had completely overlooked over the years. Spain normally meant the Costa Del Sol, the Costa Brava, Benidorm and the Costa Blanca. But this seemed an excellent opportunity to discover one of the most genuinely eye opening islands that revealed so much more about Spain than we would have initially expected.

Lanzarote is the home of the volcano, a volcanic islands as far as the eyes as could see. Staying at the wonderfully named hotel called the Paradise, we awoke every morning to the sight of far away volcanoes, ancient volcanoes and a vast collection of conically shaped volcanoes that have stood on the same geological and geographical spot for as long as any of the locals can remember.

Inside our hotel we couldn't help but notice the very surreal looking patches of volcanic ash that looked as if  they belonged in some very academic science laboratory. After a day spent finding our bearings and a lazy, leisurely chill by the poolside, we ventured out on a memorable tour of the islands under the admirable guidance of our tour guide who told us that he was writing a book about Lanzarote and then proceeded to wow us with his comprehensive knowledge of the island. In fact he seemed to have an almost encyclopaedic command of every fact, year, detail and statistic that has forever been associated with Lanzarote.

Picking us up outside our hotel in his impressive but small mini bus, our permanently cheerful friend took us on an expansive and gloriously informative trek around parts of the Iberian peninsula that very few of us would have ever known about. There were large swathes of land here that bore an uncanny resemblance to some very high budget Hollywood science fiction movie blockbuster.

At frequent intervals we stopped to admire some of the most breathtaking sea waves ever seen, crashing dramatically against the side of cliff walls, rocky outcrops and deeply isolated lagoons. We were shown salt mines that reminded you of the squares on a chessboard. There were lively, furiously turbulent foamy waters that boiled, simmered and then exploded against a craggy, weatherbeaten wall, a now totally blasted, darkened rock formation.

So here we were in complete isolation with nothing around us but groups of tourists gingerly treading their way towards the summit along winding pathways. This was the moment when most of us had one of those rare moments when you simply gasp with wonder and open your months in sheer admiration. We reached the top of one cliff side retreat, staring across at beautiful, turquoise coloured waters that glittered and shimmered romantically. We were truly lost for words.

Our superb guide then gave us chapter and detail on the white and green villas dotted liberally around the island. He told us about his childhood spent with his father gathering bumper crops of potatoes, tomatoes and abundant vegetables providing rich and fertile pickings for his family. He explained the minerals that were hidden away in the nooks and crannies and then much more.

Of course our day on the islands would never have been complete without a trip to a wine tasting session in a secluded hideaway. Here we sampled the very best in cactus jams of every flavour, the tastes and textures that were like nothing else you've ever tasted. And here was the thing. Lanzarote is surrounded by cactus and cacti, an almost lunar landscape of nothing but cacti. There was something in the way they were bunched together that looked remarkably like green speech bubbles although perhaps my mind had by this time transported me to another dimension altogether.

It was at this point that your eyes were spellbound by a sight that is somehow quintessentially Spanish and quite possibly Mediterranean. There were nothing but row upon row of palm trees, community after community, colony upon colony of palm trees. Some of the most remarkable looking palm trees with large, drooping leaves and the thickest trunks ever seen, were an almost prominent feature of Lanzarote. There were, quite literally, hundreds and thousands of palm trees that in some cases have lived in Lanzarote for thousands of years.

The weather was pleasant and hearteningly warm accompanied by intermittent breezes and stiff winds that did increase in volume from time to time. But we were here to take in the very essence of Lanzarote, the diverse character of this touristy but now very quiet Spanish island. The history of the islands  is naturally fascinating and it does seem to have a distinctive character that makes it utterly unique.

Come May and June Lanzarote will undergo a radical transformation with the inevitable arrival of the British holidaymakers. We all know by now that throughout the years Britain has more or less completed a mass takeover of this quaint Spanish island. There are British families who have made Spain their second home and Lanzarote is no exception to the rule.

 Whole back streets and roads are now the private property of Union Jack bedecked cafes, restaurants and cafes, serving up a constant diet of English food, wild karaoke nights featuring the very cheesiest of 1970s disco music and English beer by the barrel load. There are English singers, English magicians, English themed cabaret and nothing but the English vibe. It was as if you'd stepped back in time to those hazy, crazy days of the British holiday camp where escapism meets education.

Last night my wife and I returned from our short and relaxing break in the sun, recharged and ready to go. Predictably, as we bumped onto the run way at Gatwick airport we were greeted by pouring rain and a wet ground that we've now come to expect in Britain. Our memories will be solely ours, a Saturday night listening to the blissfully nostalgic sound of a Bee Gees tribute act and thinking back to those domineering and forbidding looking volcanoes with their tons of dormant molten lava. My wife and I now felt both culturally uplited and ready to face the first buds of springtime. Here we are on the verge of another seasonal time shift. It's time to look forward. Onwards and upwards we go.