This part of the island is especially green, getting nearly all the moisture from the northeast that can't move past the tall volcano in the middle. It's often cloudy, and the clouds are often low, bathing the craggy mountains with a thick mist that results in moss and lichen covering much of the vegetation. We are winding our way up. We had just stopped at a lookout point to see the valley that opens to the Atlantic beyond. Since it's still early on the first day of the year, there was hardly any visitor. The valley has blotches of sun and shadow. The main city below by the sea was all sunny but the small mountain next to it would be cloudy. There is a lot of microclimates on this island, even in this northern, moist half. The valley we saw had no sign of habitation because it's a protected park. There are also hardly any trees below.
The road, as expected of mountainous ones, is windy. At best I would get sleepy, but more likely I would get queasy. Right now I am just feeling sleepy from the snaking of the car from one valley to another. I can see the richness of the mountain. They call it "monte", mountainous forest. It's all green, and there is a lot of ferns by the cliffy road that serves as a reminder of the age old soil that has existed here for a long time. The earth here is rich in minerals and nutrients, thanks to the fact that it's a volcanic island here. With year-round moisture it's no wonder how much vegetation is supported here, and the temperature on this half of the island is moderate, never below freezing but also, unlike the southern half, it's never too hot. And because there are no good beaches here, the destructive force of tourism hasn't really affected here, unlike in the south where the typical Spanish over-development in tourism is seen everywhere.
We wind up and down and finally reach a big rock that splits the road in two, and behind it is the parking lot where we leave the car. From there we reach a premonitory where a bird's eye of the northeastern part of the island can be seen. It's all mountainous, very craggy. And the cliffs drop mercilessly into the blue sea that has been battering the island since it was created eons ago by the volcano that is now hidden in the clouds. This point is called Pico Inglés, English Peak. There are boulders to sit on for an even better view, and the omnipresent golden lichen serve as a reminder of the natural richness of this end of the island. On the western coast you can see a huge rock sticking out of the water not far from the craggy coast. It is now golden, shone by a single ray from the sun that manages to pierce through the clouds that hover heavily over us. And between the golden point and me lie a valley full of terraced fields. Like many Asian farmers, the ones here have figured out how to take advantage of the rich soils of the hills by cutting terraces on them and then plant their crops on the newly etched flat surfaces. The verdant landscape is dotted humbly by the richly colored red and orange and white houses of the villages that are scattered in the valleys.
Beyond the coast, beyond the blue water, hidden in the marine mist where the horizon would be looms the shadow of the second largest island after the one I am standing in. That island is home to an equally lively set of cities, and there a volcano also stands proud in the center. From this vantage point I can see a lot of ferries coming and going, white little objects with a foamy white wake in the blue yonder, as if they were comets in the blue void. How small everything man-made seems from this point, compared to the awesome mountain ranges and dense forests.
I turn to the right and see that above the uninhabited valley the clouds have opened up a huge hole for the sun to bless the valley with its warmth and energy. The green valley glitters like golden confetti are falling on to the green carpet. But still, the clouds have not started to disperse, hiding the volcano from everyone except those flying above the clouds.
After taking a few more photos, we return to the car and continue on. Before that I take a picture of this unique cactus-like plant that grows on the roof of the houses here. There's one now on the roof of the house below. The plant has a simple body and a grown of juicy leaves. It is accompanied by tiny versions of itself. Its green body contrasts well with the dark red of the roof tiles. Now off we go in even windier roads through this verdant landscape, an emerald in the warm mid-Atlantic.
