Leaving Fuerteventura

September 6, 2020

Valladolid, Spain

Hauling my worldly goods across the Atlantic to the landlocked region of Spain –Castilla y Leon–I finally arrived in Valladolid just after 10pm. I can’t believe this morning I was floating on the waters in the middle of the Atlantic, and now I am in a noisy, crowded city over 1,500 miles away. 

Earlier today….

Ryan Air Boeing 737 aircraft, bound for mainland Spain— Madrid, Barajas. I sat alone at the window seat in aisle 23, glimpsing the last views of the island I had called home for two years. I love traveling, I love adventuring, but wow, leaving always rips at the heart space leaving sections of it exposed and slightly aching— especially if you’ve done it right!

As the plane took flight and over the next two hours, I must of cried a river, or at least a small pond. I didn’t expect to have such intense feelings about leaving. Living on the island wasn’t easy, but it did grow on me over the two years I made my home there however, I hadn’t expected it to enter my heart. It wasn’t until after the goodbyes I gave to my newly made friends, to the many places, and the parts of me I was leaving behind that I felt little cracks opening up in my heart. With each step I took closer and closer to the entrance of the aircraft the cracks opened a little more.  

It’s as if the unassuming beauty of the island had, overtime, slowly and tenderly crawled inside and took up a comfortable residence inside my heart. I never thought it would be possible to see beauty in the desert-scape, in the hills of endless brown. But, I am grateful that early in my first year on the island I joined Lata y Zurron, the local hiking club.

Several months of weekly Sunday hikes later, a change in my perception was underway. My eyes viewed things differently, more generously and as my vision adjusted, I began falling in love with the rolling, sable-colored hills,

the majestic fronds of the aloe vera, and the romantic views onto the horizon of distant shores.

The silhouette of the hills against the blue of the sky began appearing more as the beautiful curves of a woman’s body in repose rather than the hostile, bleak  landscape of my first impressions.

The whipping wind started feeling exhilarating rather than harsh,

and a new shade of rainbow started to take shape—an array of brown tones, algae greens, and pale yellows punctuated by the occasional purple or red fleck of a flower, arching out over the landscape— the place was bustling with life!

And there were birds, and squirrels, and of course—-cabras!

Fuerteventura is well-known for it’s goat cheeses and goat stew— I enjoyed both delicacies with gusto! — (I also NEVER thought I would eat goat meat, and then, actually enjoy it!)

My new mantra, “never say never”—- it’s about changing perceptions. When we are caught up in a certain vision we often can’t imagine there are other ways. I am grateful for traveling as it helps me to chip away at my own calcified views, beliefs, values, and thoughts— they are always being challenged!

I must make my way to bed for now, Se está haciendo tarde and I’m tired after this long day of travel. Tomorrow I begin my search for a new hogar. There are both fluttering butterflies and sinking iron ships playing at my insides as an omg-what-have-I-done-yet-this-is-an-exhilarating-new-potential emotion makes its way, back and forth, ricocheting throughout my insides. 

Spanish words:

Lata y Zurron = Canteen and knapsack

Cabras = goats

Se está haciendo tarde = it’s getting late

Hogar = home