As we landed in Fuerteventura, a grumpy sky hovered above our heads. This was our pre-honeymoon trip, and optimism was in the air. So we ignored the undecided weather, and sailed off to our hotel Melia in Jandía, located on the southernmost tip of the 100km long Canary Island.
The bus made its way through sandy hills, saltbushes and sweet tabaibas. Suddenly the sky was metamorphosing: the wind seemed to spread its wings and to shoo away the grey clouds. Just like Emily Brontë once put it: “And from the midst of cheerless gloom I passed to bright unclouded day.”
By the time we arrived at the hotel, the sun finally emerged. We started to happy dance out of sheer joy, ignoring the hotel receptionist’s gaze. Our simple delight and excitement seemed to disturb her. Or was it because we pointed out that we really wanted a double bed? Same-sex marriage is legal in Spain since 2005. So we knew that she wouldn’t dare saying anything homophobic.
Once in our room, we quickly changed clothes, and off we ran to the beach. We raced through rays of light, listening to the whooshing sound of the waves ringing in our heart. The winds stroke our cheeks and bare legs.
The closer we came to the shoreline, the stronger the wind gusts. We closed our eyes, spread our arms, and tagged along, letting them push us towards the sea. Every now and then we took a stand against the blows, pretending that we could defeat the blasts.
Nearby wind- and kitesurfers were riding the frantic swells, their boards soaring through the air. They were probably getting ready to compete at the International Windsurfing and Kiteboarding Championship, held at Playas de Sotavento since 1985.
We slowly moved towards the surfers, but soon realized that the ocean was still far beyond and that we would have to cross a huge lagoon before reaching the sea. The lagoon looked so perfect that we got rid of our sandals, and jumped into its crystal clear water. Warm water and even warmer sand soaked us in. We stayed there for a long time, feeling the sand between our toes, and watching a swarm of baby fishes cruising around us.
Time was forgotten, time had become irrelevant. We kissed. We were being silly. Enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Of being, instead of doing.
Time was forgotten… Until something very basic torn us back to reality: the lagoon and ocean might be beautiful, but not drinkable. It was time for us to head back to our hotel.
On our return towards the inland, wind squalls made our hair twist and twirl. We had walked a bigger distance than initially thought. All around, sandy mountains kept changing their shapes. And time after time we thought we glimpsed our hotel, but it always turned out to be a mirage.
When we finally got back to our room, we both dropped dead on our King-size bed. There is a reason why this island is called « Strong Wind » !
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