Canary Islands

A few days in Las Palmas on the island of Grand Canaria, Canary Islands.
Although it is off the coast of Morocco, it is owned by Spain and most definitely a "part of Europe".
European Union passport holders walk right through and the Euro is the local currency.
The Canary Islands are to Europeans, what the Bahamas are to Americans. . . .
some place warm to visit during the winter that is only a couple hour flight.
More importantly for me, it is where I started my trans-Atlantic sailing voyage.


 


The easiest way for me to get to the Canaries was through London.


This building is giving birth to an airplae.


The South African Airways jet I arrived on 3 hours earlier.


The now retired super-sonic Concord jet.


A cargo ship.


Arriving at Gran Canaria.


Fish farms slightly offshore.


Arriving in the city of Las Palmas.


The first of many rainbows.


The 2nd rainbow.


The 3rd.


The 4th (boy I forgot how many there were).


The crew of the Matilda, where we would be leaving from in a couple days.


Christmas lights.


A local Spanish style restaurant with ham-hocks hanging from the ceiling.


Old Town.


Driving through the port looking for Immigration. As the only non member of the EU, I was the only that had to get and exit stamp in my passport.


The captain of the vessle has to present the passport.


A very windy day.


Returning the rental car.


Local grocery store.


The local beer.


Meeting with some friends aboard Matilda.


Running into a friend in town.


Tea onboard, talking about the upcoming departure.


The company I SCUBA dove with.


All of the ARC boats awaiting race day.


Some people from a town I know well.


Sun Downer party for sailboat crews.


Carrying the repaired outboard back to the boat.


Dumpster Dave diving in the trash pile.


And the race begins.