SKL's Walking Blog

Fuerteventura – 8

Bus stop 35626 to Morro Jable – 26th February 2025

Some cliffs then a long stretch along the beach today, which has its good and bad points. A path that doesn’t require you to constantly look where you are placing your feet against the effort to walk through the soft sand.
A lot of naked people today – all seem to be older and Spanish. Which is lovely to see, if you get my meaning. All those people my age and in their seventies letting it all dangle and seemingly proud with it.

The bus stop 35626 which I can not find on any schedule. Thank goodness for personal drivers.
Bloody expensive cycle track.
Finally down to the sea. Lanzarotte in the distance.
A view ahead and a nice bit of paving which was put in to service …
This huge derelict hotel.
At sea level and the sand beach is interpersed with black boulder sections which will mean heading up to the cliff tops.
Unless, of course the sea is far enough out to let me get past.
The black boulders are gathered into these little cabanas or windbreaks which apart from this one are populated by naked people.
My first attempt along the beach failed as it ended in that sort of lagoon which I’m not wading across. Sand gets in between the toes which becomes agony later on.
Signs of civilisation and a ferry pullin ginto the harbour which would ideally take me on to Gran Canaria.
Many miles still to go but at least there are beach cafes for a sit down and a coffee.
The lighthouse at Morro Jable. Still got to climb up into the town and down the other side to the harbour.

Just to be clear. Being able to stroll around naked on the beach, or anywhere else for that matter is empowering. If you are over a certain age and all is flabby and saggy then even more so. What, however, is the protocol. I saw a couple in their seventies approach on the path. She was shaven and his poked out from a large grey bush. In front of me the buttocks of quite a portly gentleman, grey fuzz abounding. They obviously knew each other and stopped for a chat as if on the high street in their Sunday best. Brilliant. But is it the Spanish equivalent of, ‘How’s it hanging, Pedro?’ To which the only reply is, ‘As you see it, Juan. And I see that the water’s cold today.’