Lanzarote contains a certain magic that was so easy to grasp while roaming the island, yet the words evaporate from my pen as soon as I put it to paper. Black volcanic earth covering every inch of ground. All the eye can see is charcoal pigments, fleshy cacti and pristine blue waters. Oh my heart! When you are thirsty for beauty, Lanzarote is an oasis.
The simple colour palette makes the island meditative and tranquil. Waking up with the soft morning sun on my face, the sound and scent of coffee percolating and the song we would play for each other to start the day. Slow mornings do something to my soul. Little rituals I try to bring home with me, to evoke the energy of the island, the feeling of that first morning freshness, knowing: this is only the beginning. Let’s explore.
Poetry flowed out of me, infused with road trips and beach life. Every day we would find a different beach to frolic on, throwing off clothes as soon as I closed the car doors, jumping straight into that crystal clear water yelling with pure delight as I swam with fish of all sizes and if I stayed in long enough, I would become one of them. The play of light and shadow on the sand, holding my breath long enough, turning into a mermaid.
In the evenings we would come home happy and tired from a day of adventuring, skin crisp with the summery combination of sunscreen, salt and sand. Hair growing blonder by the minute. ‘Rubia Peligrosa!’ the owner of our favourite beach side bar would yell out when he saw us. We laughed, olive oil dripping from my chin, bread so fresh it makes my mouth water still, cold white wine, I promise you I felt something close to the divine. Plates of tuna, pulpo, looking at what the neighbours were eating saying we’ll have that! Everyone did the same so we all ended up eating the same. Everyone was Rubia Peligrosa, everyone was smiling and tipsy on life in that little bar.
After lunch, all we had to do was climb down some steps to get to the ocean. Sun baking, slow swimming in chilly waters to awaken from the afternoon haze of a hot summer’s day. I identified with the plants gently moving in the water, with the bright red and blue crabs sunbathing on black rocks. During our road trips, I was the enthusiastic driver, every day feeling like it’s the first time I laid eyes on rolling hills of volcanic black. Tiny grapes on intense green vines in holes dug to get to deeper layers of fertile soil and to protect from the wind.
That island wind! I thank it for blowing all the worries out of my head. I left Valencia with a brain full of charcoal coloured thoughts, feeling so tense the anxiety seeped out of my pores. I boarded the plane to Lanzarote and a relaxation came over me like a protective blanket. Let go, surrender to the islands’ beauty, drink up all the natural elements until you become them. It all made sense while I was there. Being back in Valencia I am losing some of the magic I am sure I felt, but I did bring the slowness of island life with me and I’m so grateful I did.
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