People are always happy when they go somewhere else to be somebody else. The farthest they go, the happier they are. Returning home is the end of the dream for many.
Some fall into this world being who they are. Others, being who they are not. I was not, but this is another story.
When you stay long enough in a place like this, you’ll be amazed to see how many people seem to be who they really are. The idea of breaking free on a piece of land floating on an ocean seems to have this effect on people.
August is boiling hot here during the day. People forget themselves at the beach and while time passes by they slip into a soft oblivion. When the sun sets, most of them set, but some seem to experience a sort of wakefulness, a sweeter form of insomnia. The evenings are perfect, you want to live forever. You even feel immortal at times.
Hits from 70’s and 80’s are the most wanted in all bars and restaurants, including karaoke ones. The music made from the heart thrives here. People need it and they get it. From place to place a Spanish song breaks through.
“Smile more” is the upgrade that the owner of a small typical Canarian restaurant decided to make for the first time in the last four years. A small sign hanged at the open entrance. Nothing else changed. A few moments away, the owners of my favourite spot overviewing the city didn’t change anything in years. Not even a chair or a spoon. The menu is the same, the music is the same, the way they smile is the same. That’s what owning a good location in a great hot spot makes you do. Nothing. Unchangeable becomes your middle name.
Why? I wondered. It’s the seasonless climate. You don’t feel the time. It’s tricky. Today feels like yesterday and yesterday feels like an year ago. You don’t feel when your life fades away. When nature does not seem to change, your natural tendency is to do the same. Humans surrendered to nature.
On a wild beach, at sunset, a bride and a groom kiss on a rock while the ocean splashes cold water over them. A few steps away a photographer captures this canvas on his camera. You have to intentionally deviate from the main road to reach there, a place you don’t know it exists. After a few minutes of driving along plataneros on both sides of a very tight driveway, it unravels before your eyes when you least expect it. It is breathtaking. We ended up there at sunset and it was like I found the place where the sun made its home.
On another wild beach hidden between massive rocks and sheltering a small laguna, a man is swimming in the laguna. His joy and pleasure to do it all alone is so strong that I can feel it as if I am wearing his skin. He seems to know exactly when the place remains alone and that is when he steps in. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have noticed him. Just another human in the crowd.
On the other side of the island, the crowd is at its peak and staggering. Tourists from all corners of the world come and go from all places to all places. By foot, by rented cars, by boats, by everything. The music switches on clubbing and while the black guys sell bags and watches during the day, you meet them again at night selling cannabis and drugs of all breeds. On the other side of the highway, far away from the buzz and upper in the mountain, residents from all corners of the world live the Canarian dream.
The weather is hotter here and the nature wears a different dress. The other islands seem closer during clearer days and they remind you of how far from home you are.
People get closer to happiness here. Pain and other forms of agony and wanderings become kinder here. Fears seem to retreat. Thousands of miles away from home, for a few days, they manage to be more from who they are. To just be.
Life is good.