The paths of La Palma

Due to the complexities of the terrain, communications on the island have always been a big problem. One of the modernizations introduced by the Spaniards after the conquest was the creation of a network of trails that would eventually get to cover the whole island. They often followed the ancient paths used by the pre-Hispanic population and were built to last, many were paved and where it was necessary, supportive stone walls were raised. Some of them are close to five centuries old, but are conserved in a perfect state. The construction and maintenance of the paths was financed by the State, hence their name Caminos Reales (“royal paths”).

These trails were enormously important for the island’s economy by connecting different production areas with each other. La Palma has very few fishing villages as opposed to the other islands in the archipelago, and it was therefore common to exchange agricultural products for fish and shellfish. Caravans of mules crossed the mountains, and the barter took place somewhere halfway between two villages. Imported goods as such as manufactured cloth, tools, oil lamps and so on, were also distributed by mule or donkey from the harbour in the capital Santa Cruz de La Palma to the little villages. Only the biggest and heaviest products went by sea, something that was avoided as much as possible; the island has very few natural shelters and the process of loading and unloading the little vessels was dangerous and difficult. The sea can be very rough and it was often necessary to keep the boats at bay with long staves to prevent them to get smashed against the rocks. And it was still necessary to transport the goods up to the villages. The muleteer had a fundamental role in the island’s economy, but today it is a completely extinct craft and the mules have virtually disappeared.

The trails were also important for the island’s social life. You walked to the neighbour villages to court their girls. You walked to the church villages to assist to mass, weddings, christenings and funerals. You walked to the festivities, and those who played some instrument would carry these with them, forming little improvised dance music orchestras. Many trails passes along springs, and these were absolutely vital for the islanders, particularly during the hot and dry summer. Many springs are equipped with washing basins and drinking troughs for the pack animals, and used to be important social reunion places where you met people from other villages to exchange news, products or secret gazes.

Not until the mid-Fifties did this situation change. It was then that the modern network of roads got developed. Earlier there were only a handful of dirt tracks, mainly around the capital, but from now on, every village started to get accessible by road. These were a godsend for the islanders as they implied a major improvement in the quality of life. With the roads came the shops, the schools, the doctors, the public transport, electricity and telephone… The island’s economy changed from a subsistence economy to a monetary economy. Young people wanted education and work, something difficult to get on the countryside. People moved in to the cities and today many hamlets stand empty. For the majority of the islanders, the trails represented a very laborious past while they now had their sight set on the future. The old trails were abandoned and forgotten, only the occasional hunter or shepherd would use them, and many would disappear under concrete and asphalt.


In the mid-Eighties, the banana crisis began, and the insular government decided to opt for tourism instead. The lack of beaches, the splendid nature, the amazing landscapes, the peace and quiet, and the friendliness of the islanders, were all factors that made La Palma perfect for the development of an alternative tourism, green tourism or eco-tourism – different names for the same phenomenon, that is, a form of tourism that is good for the island but that won’t destruct it through the uncontrolled construction of hotels and apartment blocks. And one of the major attractions of the island is precisely the fabulous network of trails. Therefore, since the early Nineties, great efforts are being made to restore and recover many of the old paths.

A feast for the senses

Hiking on La Palma is quite an experience. Not only because two routes are never the same, or because most trails cross through several microclimates, each with its own related type of vegetation, but also because it is a total sensorial experience, a real feast for our senses. The colours are direct and intense, and frequently a few primary colours dominate the views: green forests, blue sea and sky, various tonalities of brown and ochre in the rocks and cliffs, white clouds looking like whipped cream. But if we look closer, we discover that there are endless variations in these primary colours. A limitless range of green tonalities in fields and forests, the many deep greens, blues and greys of the sea, clouds now white, now pink and golden, now dark and dense. And when the island blooms in spring, it seems that entire chests of jewels have been scattered everywhere

It is a silent island, without big roads or industries. Nature’s own sounds just amplify the silence even more. The whisper of the breeze in the pine forests, the happy and hoarse song of the crows flying in big clouds, herds of goats coming home at nightfall, each animal with its own bell, all tuned to the same frequency, sounding as one. The counterpoint of the crickets during the summer nights, and every now and then, the echoes of some distant country dance. The sounds of the sea and the mountains form the island’s soundtrack.


And the smells! Salty sea air and sun-baked pine resin. Moist earth and half- decomposed leaves in the laurel forest. Heaps of manure, ripened grapes, flowering almond trees, wet clay and wild roses. Vegetable casseroles cooking in the kitchen of a solitary farm, or perhaps the aroma of freshly made coffee. The smells of La Palma are pure poetry.


To hike on La Palma means to live the paths with the whole body. There might be icy cold winds or scorching sun, but also cool breezes that caress our faces as well as our souls. Perhaps our legs protest violently after a long ascent from the bottom of a ravine, but once we reach the top, a wave of euphoria sweep across us and lighten our hearts. To hike on La Palma means to feed both body and soul, and to find our inner balance.

Nowadays, the islanders hardly ever use the trails, and no-one is aware of the fact that five centuries of history are impregnated in each stone, each spring, each terrace, each cave. To hike on La Palma is not about doing big achievements and putting the island on the bragging list after the Atlas mountains, the Andes or the Himalaya. To hike on La Palma is about following the trails back into time and walk side by side along with the thousands of men and women that have walked here before us: farmers carrying heavy sacks or loads of freshly cut fodder. Muleteers, kids on their way to school, men and women carrying wheat to the mill, the Guardia Civil in search for a fugitive. Parties of happy youngsters on their way to a country dance. Priest, choirboys and the whole village in procession, doctors on their way to a patient, shepherds and their animals… To walk on La Palma means to follow the fine frontier that separates the island’s past from its future, having a unique, magical and moving experience that will be remembered with love for a long time.