An arid desert type place studded with tired out volcanoes eroded by the fierce north-easterly wind. Of lava flows and black ash fields that grow astonishing grapes and bright white villages reflecting the sun.
I have no idea what the tourists resorts are like but can guess that they are the usual mix of daytime sunburnt white-skins, and nighttime over-loud drunks. My brief journey through Playa Blanca was enough for me. Still, if that’s your thing, have on.
That we descended from arboreal apes is certain, unless you are one of those deluded creationists types who descry all science as witchery. Given that; where from comes the fear of heights. Surely such traits would die out. For after weaning, the little ape dies with food within easy climbing reach or is abandoned by her troop who tire of waiting for her to catch up.
Not so! I cry. The fear of falling from huge trees is a sensible evolutionary adaption. All it needs is a like minded little soul to join her, to come down from the fearful heights with her and you have… us.
Now all they need to worry about are the sabre-toothed cats.
However, why then do some of us still lack this important mutation. Why do some of us cut trails that border cliff edges so closely that all that keeps you from your first fatal attempt at flight is a piece of ground the width of your foot. It is obvious to me that these recessives should head back to the jungle where they belong and leave the rest of us to make our paths at a sensible distance.
I wasn’t supposed to have much in the way of cliff edges this go, but went ahead and did it anyway by adding in some extras. It was lovely; once I’d finished.

Deserts appeal to me. They always have, and I don’t know why. The sand coloured desiccated landscape, the sun-blasted rock, the black ash gravel and the towering, satisfying symmetry of the volcanoes were wonderful. Bring on Fuerteventura.