Why Holiday on Fuerteventura

By Karen Bradbury
Published: Europe Traveler, January 20, 2011

From October to March, I’m cold. My husband, immune to the fluctuations of the thermometer and unaware that his jacket has a zipper running up the front, makes fun of my constant moaning. But for me, as soon as autumn settles in, I get a chill I just can’t seem to shake, and no matter how many layers I bundle up in, or how long I soak in the tub, I’m never really and truly toasty warm for any length of time.

So it’s been awhile now that I’ve been seeking the feeling of a summer day smack-dab in the middle of winter here in Europe. Results have been mixed, but I did enjoy a successful outing this previous holiday weekend when my husband and I spent three glorious days on Fuerteventura, one of the Canary Islands, where we were blessed with cloudless skies and temperatures in the high 70s. I even managed to swim in the ocean without a bout of the shivers to follow. We still have plenty of wintry weather ahead of us, but at least now I feel like I just might make it to the spring solstice.

Corralejo, Fuerteventura — This was my favorite of the Canary Islands to date. Corralejo, like Maspalomas, is geared toward British and German tourists, and shopping, dining, drinking and sunning on the beach are pretty much what it’s all about. In such spots, my English husband and I quickly drift into the rhythm of picking up the English newspaper, enjoying an English breakfast, and falling into conversation with his fellow countrymen before heading off to the beach. I want for nothing more than sun on bare skin and a swim in the ocean, and in the evenings, fresh seafood and maybe some live entertainment. In this case, I got what I was after and more. By our last day, after consultation with some resident Brits and holidaymakers who’ve been going there for the past 15 years, we encountered delicious, no-frills cooking in a restaurant just off the beaten track known as Avenida. The fun continued in Imagine, a live music venue with astoundingly good performers, even if the lead singer was slightly off his rocker. And the bar known as Hello Beach House Bar, run by an ex-Pat Brit named Mike, welcomes boisterous crowds of friends or a lone traveler with a generous pour and a sympathetic ear. And that, by my reckoning, is true warmth in the dead of winter.   


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