Garafía: Between The Sea and The Sky

Originally Published by National Geographic Italy, January 2009.

Text and Photographs by Eduardo Rubiano Moncada

Standing on a jagged rock formation 2,426 meters above the same sea we can see far below, the world's largest erosion crater spews behind us intermittent clouds that quickly vanish over our heads. We are at El Roque de Los Muchachos, the highest point on La Palma which, 2 million years in the making, is among the youngest of the Canary Islands. Few masses of land on Earth rise in such a dramatic and steep angle from the sea. We set out to explore this northwestern-most part of the island, a fascinating municipality known as Garafía.

The Atlantic Ocean is less than 11Km away, and its immense expanse blurs into the sky at the horizon. To our backs, a dizzying drop into the living, breathing crater and its micro climate provides us with the same sense of scale and awe that must have drawn the ritualistic ancient natives to this very place in search of contact with the divine.

The adjacent extension of land downhill from the Roque is home to one of the most extensive arrays of telescopes found anywhere. This complex, which forms part of the European Northern Observatory, represents a scientific continuation of the search for our origins in the modern world. Here, carrying forward the legacy of Galilei, Newton, and Herschel, international scientists turn their instruments toward the firmament under the exceptional viewing conditions of La Palma, which is protected by “La Ley del Cielo” (the Skylaw). Enacted in 1988 by the Spanish government, this law aims to optimize viewing conditions by reducing light, radio electrical and atmospheric pollution as well as aviation routes.

As we begin our descent from the barren summit, we immediately encounter the Telescopio Nazionale Galileo which, since 1996, operates as Italy's foremost astronomical observation instrument. Further down the slope, amidst the cover of low vegetation, crews work around the clock during the last construction stage of the Gran Telescopio Canarias. It will be inaugurated in 2009 as Europe's largest, most advanced optical/infrared telescope.

Taking us out of the calm and silent land surrounding the observatory, a twisty, narrow road leads downhill through a thick blanket of fog into a pine forest. One hour of treacherous driving later, at a crossroad halfway down from the summit, we find “El Bailadero”, a small roadside tavern where locals stop to rest and share a meal under a warm and rustic roof. With courteous nods, they acknowledge the arrival of us, foreigners, before turning back to loud conversation in the smoky room. At the far wall, in a bulletin board, a home-made sign asks of the whereabouts of a beloved, lost pet. “His name is Cho”, reads the text below the picture of a Pastor Garafiano, an official breed of dog original to Garafía.

Inhabitants of this region have always shared a special relationship with nature that goes beyond the use of its resources. Ancient natives, who lived in naturally-formed caves on the walls of the barrancos or cliffs that dominate the landscape, left behind evidence of their activities, which since only recently has been studied in depth. Not far from “El Bailadero”, at around the same altitude of 1000 meters, people long ago made the largest concentration of rock carvings found on the island. Varied in motifs, these were attempts by their makers to favorably influence natural conditions such as rain and fertility. Like today, those locals depended heavily on agricultural and herding activities.

As recently as the 1950's, Garafía was among the wealthiest areas of the entire archipelago. However, during the last few decades the population has shrunk as younger generations relocate elsewhere on the island in search for employment and a less isolated way of life. In the locality of El Tablado, a remote village built on a mountain top near the sea, evidence of this trend is alarming. With cliffs at either side of the tiny road that threads through the scattered houses, most of which are abandoned, this community once thrived with hundreds of inhabitants. Today, only around 30 people remain, mostly elderly individuals. “If people do not begin to come, this place will die”, says Francis, a man in his late 40's who dreams of building a horseback-riding business for eco-tourists.

On a clear night toward the end of our tour, we set up camp inside a cave 200 meters above the sea. The sound of the waves reaches our ears throughout the night, mixed with the calls of goats seeking each other in the darkness of the next cliff. The next morning, as we start a new journey, we encounter an old shepherd and his son atop the rocks, looking down at the same herd they released months earlier so they could learn to survive in the perilous terrain. They face a long wait, rope in hand, as they attempt to lure the nervous animals back in. With a cheerful wave, they bid us good bye and we turn back toward the path again, leaving behind a colorful scene in search for more.

Despite the warmth of its people, a wealth of hiking trails, archaeological sites, an inviting climate and breathtaking landscapes, Garafía seems largely forgotten and its future remains uncertain. This is a place where the waves crash against fresh volcanic rocks in an explosion of light, sound and movement. Here, the dramatic geography still holds undiscovered traces of a long-lost people who once turned to the land itself to reach out to the heavens. Yet, an enchanting aura remains in this intriguing part of the world, where humans still seek to mimic the upward motion of an astonishing, restless land.

This is Garafía, between the sea and the sky.

See more photos from this story by clicking here.

© Eduardo Rubiano Moncada