The Road Less Traveled: Walking Across Lanzarote
- Sam Bosque
- Oct 22, 2023
- 4 min read
DATE: 20 October 2022
LOCATION: Lanzarote, Islas Canarias
From the window of my Ryanair seat, I saw the crystal waters and dramatic peaks come into view through the morning clouds. I was headed for Lanzarote, a volcanic island in the Spanish-controlled Canary Islands, for the weekend. The trip had been rather last-minute, and I had booked no accommodation or transport of any kind. I knew that there was a volcano I wanted to climb and a National Park to visit, and I figured that the other details would fall into place as they came.
I arrived in the airport town of Arrecife and immediately headed to the estación de guaguas to catch a bus headed towards the National Park. Sliding into a window seat near the back, the bus winded its way through agricultural lands, where brilliant white farm houses dotted the stark volcanic landscape. Upon being dropped off in Tinajo, I found the trail head to Caldera Blanca, a massive white volcano contrasting the oppressive black lava fields. The trail was exposed, dusty, and the sun beat down on me almost the entire time. It was a dramatic climb to say the least; hostile rock stretching in every direction with very little evidence of any life.
Upon reaching the crater, I snacked on carrots and a fuet (my delicacy when traveling) while I took in the view amid the pelting winds. From the peak, I could see the Atlantic ocean on one side and the lonely road snaking its way through Timanfaya National Park and Natural Park of the Volcanoes. These two protected areas featured desolate lunar landscapes and incredible views of the geothermal activity that had created this island some 15 million years ago. I was intrigued by the sight of the single road…what if I walked across it? I knew that the town of Yaiza lay to the south of the park and decided that I would try and walk the length of the park along the LZ-67. If I got tired, I could hitch a ride into Yaiza, I thought to myself.
Back down in the village of Tajaste, I ate lunch and started down the barren road. The blazing sun and the otherworldly landscape made me feel like I was traversing the surface of Mars. That would be the feeling that would stay with me for the entirety of the journey. Upon leaving the outskirts of the town, I officially entered the park and was immediately surrounded by Nature in all of its glory. I was truly alone in the expanse, nothing but rocks and resilient plants to keep me company. The occasional car or motorcycle would pass me, usually slowing down to offer me a ride and laugh when I told them I was going on foot.
The landscape was monotonous and dynamic at the same time. On one hand, the sloping lava fields giving way to countless peaks seemed to never end or change in the slightest. But I constantly reminded myself that this seemingly still land had been the scene of the most explosive events that our planet has to offer: a volcanic explosion. Patches of grass and small bushes poked their way through the sharp ground, proof that nature can return from anything. The road winded up and down, my feet following the white line of the road between craters and over long plateaus.
Step by step I plodded my way across, my Nike Blazers (bad choice of footwear) churning up the asphalt. The kilometer markers came and went as the road became more and more remote. I plugged in my headphones and let music push me through one kilometer, while the next I walked in silence. The sun moved its way across the nearly-cloudless sky, the shifting shadows being the only indication that time was passing. At long last, I climbed the final hill and saw the final section of the park stretch out before me. The speck in the distance, at the end of the valley, was Yaiza. My left foot was beginning to hurt with every step I took on the hard asphalt (a stress fracture, I later found out), but I paid it no attention.
As the road sloped down towards civilization and the sun drew closer and closer to the horizon in front of me, I began to seriously doubt myself for the first time. Could I really reach the village? As far as food and water were concerned, I was perfectly fine, but the pain in my foot had grown almost unbearable. It looked like only two or three miles to Yaiza, but that seemed like an eternity. As cars began to pass, I began sticking out my thumb and hoped for a ride to carry me through the final leg.
But as every car grew closer, I lowered my thumb and kept walking. My body and brain had caught its second wind. I wasn’t about to get within striking distance of my goal and then give up. I popped my headphones back in and turned it up full volume, walking with a new sense of purpose towards the town. I tunneled my vision, blocking out the pain in my foot and focusing on the white line. One step at a time.
Soon enough, I reached the outskirts of the village and started to scout out a place to camp for the night. I spotted hills on the south end of the town that seemed like the perfect spot and resumed the climb. As I ascended the ridge, the sun was falling rapidly to meet the infinite horizon of the Atlantic Ocean. I pushed myself up the ridge just before the sun set, allowing me to eat my dinner (fuet again) while reflecting on the ocean in front of me and my conquered trail behind me.
I picked my way down to a flat spot and rolled out my sleeping bag for the night. Far from any major light source, the night sky was incredible and I felt incredibly lucky to have found such a great spot. Before going to bed, I checked the Health app on my phone to see how far I had walked: 24.7 miles. That didn’t sit right with me. I got up, laced up my shoes over my throbbing foot, and walked for about five minutes so that I reached the 25 mile mark. Laying back down in my sleeping bag, I thought to myself: “Tomorrow, I’ll hitchhike.”
I fell asleep as soon as my head hit my makeshift pillow.
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