Playa del Ingles sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, with its soft black sands that are shared only by half a dozen families.
This is not your typical Canary Islands beach, with no sign of the bars usually packed in to cater for those in search of sun, sand and sangria, and it couldn’t be more different from its namesake on Gran Canaria. The beach is surrounded by iron-red cliffs, natural salt marsh and one of the most tranquil Canary Islands.
La Gomera, a little island just 50 minutes from Tenerife by ferry, feels far away. You can see the volcanic rocks in the landscape, which have become a spectacular series of ravines that drop from the middle like the ridges on a huge orange-squeezer.
Clifftop eyrie: The view from the verdant Hotel Jardin Tecina, where the rooms are arranged up the slope like a Canarian village
It’s an island of two halves – stark and arid in the south, while in the north it’s all verdant valleys and banana plantations, its upper slopes draped with laurel forests that could have come straight out of Jurassic Park.
You will find stunning views all around. The sheer volcanic plugs look like huge obelisks rising from the ground. There are clusters pastel-coloured homes that cling to hillsides and the ocean beyond.
It wasn’t so much the beauty of the land but of the governor’s widow, Beatriz de Bobadilla, which detained Christopher Columbus for nearly a month in 1492 when he stopped at the island’s capital of San Sebastian before crossing the Atlantic. History tells us little of this time, but La Gomera has woven its own story over romantic trysts between the pair in one of the region’s oldest forts, the Torre del Conde. The Calle Real church, a charismatic and historic place, is where the explorer is said to have made his final confession prior to his journey. It also houses the Customs House where you will find a sign that says he took water from the Well in order bless the New World.
Jane says that Playa del Ingles (pictured), with its soft black sands, is ‘not your typical Canary Islands beach’
Local legend has it that Christopher Columbus and Beatriz de Bodilla had “romantic gosts” in Torre del Conde.
The sights, along with a somewhat uninspiring museum in the 18th Century Casa de Colon, aren’t nearly as interesting as the stories, so rather than linger in San Sebastian, it’s better to head for the hills.
These hills! The roads wind helter-skelter all around them and then climb steeply before plummeting into valleys. However, they are wide, well-maintained, and very easy to drive.
And so we make it to the Garajonay National Park, where La Gomera’s highest pinnacle, the 5,000ft Alto de Garajonay, peeks through the laurel forest. From the car park, it’s a two-mile climb to the top.
The Mirador Morro De Agando offers far better views. It is a quick walk through an ancient forest, full of giant tree heathers, and huge dandelions. It’s almost as if we’re at the island’s mystical centre as we cross a wooden footbridge, all sunshine on the southern side and a white landscape of clouds to the north. We gaze at the Roque del Agando from the viewing platform. It pierces 4,087ft into the sky.
Mirador Cesar Manuel Manrique offers another spectacular view, overlooking the Valle Gran Rey. Its narrow terraces are dotted with red-roofed homes and palm trees at its base.
Mystical: Garajonay National Park, pictured, is home to La Gomera’s highest pinnacle, the 5,000ft Alto de Garajonay
Jane wrote: “We gaze in awe at the Roque del Agando, (pictured), that pierces through the sky at 4,087ft.
Gazing at its depths, it’s easy to understand why La Gomera’s inhabitants, rather than hike up and down slopes to speak to neighbours, once communicated using shrill whistles, known as silbo, that can carry over miles.
‘It’s not a Morse code or another language,’ says Francisco Correa from the silbo association, putting the tip of his finger to his lips to demonstrate the sing-song version of his name. ‘It’s a simple substitution of whistles for words.’
While silbo seemed at high risk of dying when it was introduced to La Gomera by the telephone, the school now has the syllabus. It’s not easy, though, as my son and I discover during an impromptu lesson. The tongue is pressed against the back of your knuckles and you are unable to make a sound.
Mirador de Abrante’s stunning walkway, pictured, juts out 2,000ft above the town of Agulo
Pictured is the chocolate-box town of Agulo, where Jane samples ‘some of the island’s delicacies’
Francisco recounts how a person fell ill at Mirador de Abrante, an impressive, glass-bottomed walkway rising 2,000ft over Agulo. The doctor received silbo alerts and was able to arrive before emergency services.
It takes us a bit longer after admiring the view from Abrante to reach the chocolate-box town of Agulo, where we refuel on some of the island’s delicacies in what was once a schoolhouse – La Vieja Escuela. Here they serve palm syrup made from the trees’ sap mixed with cornflour in a heavy traditional dough called gofio, which tastes a bit like burnt popcorn. The local leche asada (roasted milk custard) is my favorite way to use it.
Better still is the almogrote – goat’s cheese mixed with red pepper, garlic, oil and salt.
It’s no surprise that seafood is a big part of this island. We are eating at La Cuevita in Playa de Santiago. This small, cave-style restaurant serves fresh fish and prawns.
This wine is even better when paired with white local wines, which are made from the grape forastera.
The lift at the mountain wall takes us back to our clifftop hotel, Hotel Jardin Tecina. Although the rooms are quite simple, they offer stunning views of the sea.
That night we open the balcony doors to look out at the sky – the stars burn bright in this part of the world. The strangest sound suddenly comes to us almost as if an army of frogs were being strangled. We discover that the shearwaters are the ones making the noises. They return to the nests at the cliffs with great fanfare.
Sometimes La Gomera isn’t the quiet Canary after all.