An island among the stars

Cast your gaze across the rippling sands of the Maspalomas Dunes and you’ll find it’s easy to lose yourself in your thoughts. Merely feet from a busy bustling promenade is the Natural Dune Reserve, a natural space made up of three ecosystems: palms, ponds, and dunes. It’s here, amongst the calm, that you can perhaps contemplate your movement farther inland, your footsteps in the sand echoing those of Gran Canaria’s aboriginal people, as they first touched down on this island.

Archaeologist José De Léon sits among ancient homes built into the mountainside in Acusa Seca. Gran Canaria’s original inhabitants are thought to have lived in dwellings like these with the podenco canario, a breed of hunting dog still used by local farmers today. Gran Canaria’s canine connection runs deep through its history—it’s original Latin name, Canariae Insulae (Island of Dogs) possibly stems from an early Roman expedition’s encounter with feral dogs on the shore.

Evidence of the ancient Canarians and their beliefs is carved into the Sacred Mountains at the Risco Caido archaeological site on Gran Canaria. Monuments, monoliths, even a parabolic dome thought to have been used as a celestial calendar, still stand testament to these ancestors’ worship. They pulled deities from the sky above them, and devils from the land beneath, particularly the Tibecenas: Demon dogs that feasted on livestock and lived in mountain caves leading to the underworld.

The history of the ancient Canarians can be traced to the Agaete valley, where traditional ways of living are still very much alive. These slopes are patterned with small farms, flourishing in temperate climates that nurture the most succulent produce, including coffee, grown across Bodega los Berrazales, under biodiverse cover crops like mangoes and citrus fruits.

Coffee plantation owner Victor Lugo Jorge furthers his cultural heritage through the practices his family has maintained for 500 years. Like many Gran Canarians today, his lineage reaches back before colonial times, with, as Jorge maintains anyway, the blood of the first aboriginal inhabitants running through his veins.

Nowhere is better to gaze into the night’s sky than Roque Bentayga, a magma-shaped formation in the volcanic caldera of Tejeda. It’s here, in the heart of the island, where you can stand and stare at the same cosmic tapestry from which the ancient Canarians interpreted their creation. On a clear night, bathed in starlight, you can ponder yours, too.

A profound absence of light pollution and favorable weather patterns keep the skies clear above the sparsely-populated island interior. With the right equipment it’s possible to peer into the inky depths of the celestial ocean. “Ancient inhabitants knew how to interpret the sky,” says astronomer Fran Rodrígez, who’s organization, AstroEduca, offers stargazing excursions to those interested in exploring the cosmos. “They established calendars through the stars, knowing the location of the planets, the sun, and the moon. They made them their own and were able to interpret them.”

The threads of Gran Canaria’s history entwine in the island’s capital, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, where architecture, color, gastronomy, and carnival swirl together in a melting pot of pre-and-post-colonial culture. Still a major cruise-ship port, this was a boom town for captains and tradesmen between Europe and the Americas in the 1400s. To this day, visitors can enjoy shopping and dining among 19th century and Renaissance-era buildings in this historic town.

It’s in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria’s Plaza de Santa Ana that you’ll run into eight cast iron dogs, painted in green bronze, standing vigil over the cathedral in the square. Accounts vary as to who exactly crafted these canines. But, while reasons for their commission may remain unclear, they punctuate Gran Canaria’s eons-long relationship with the dog—be it the feral beast encountered by the Romans, the podenco canario domesticated by the ancient Canarians, or the demonic Tibecenas created by them.