Saturday

After a rush to buy Festival tickets, (PJ Harvey is selling quicker than the ISB btw) as it was a bit of a cloudy day up in the mountains we decided to head to see these dunes down at Maspalomas. This also allowed your author to enjoy a bracing plunge in the ocean. Tick box. Once we'd seen the dunes in their full impressiveness, which didn't take long, we found a stretch of nudist infested beach to lounge upon. Once upon a time I'd have had eyes out on sticks at the very mention of nudism. Fat old blokes, who are mostly exhibitionists, waddling about with their danglies exposed under their rotund bellies isn't really what I imagined as an adolescent. I made sure I held my stomach in.
Then onward up to the mountains - the pass at El Horno over to Mogán. Sun now out, and the road so narrow you could smell the flowers as you crawled up. Terrific.
Back for a wheat beer and relax. Later to the Art Bodega to eat - we were the only people there but the chef dude did us wonderful sea bass and octopus. And of course a carajillo. Always that.