Coincidentally, I’m currently reading Inferno as evening reading and if Dante had written the book today, I can promise that being stuck in a charter hotel would have been the tenth ring.
So we chose to leave the children’s pool and the buffet food to take a spin here in Playa del Ingles and judge by my surprise when it turns out that we have ended up in the middle of the capital of decadence. Here more pride flags are flying than any other combined, there are swingers clubs mixed with shops that sell everything from “toys” to leather masks and outfits that I had previously only seen in Berlin’s more liberal neighborhoods. We even found a porn cinema, didn’t these die out in the 70s?!?
Everything is of course mixed with more ordinary shops that sell alcohol, tobacco and perfume and toys for children.
With determined steps we aimed for the famous Sand Dunes in Maspalomas instead. According to the description a unique nature reserve with golden sand dunes, has its own small palm forest and an oasis, just like its own small desert.
Sounds much cooler than it was and because of all the mass tourism you are only allowed to walk on dedicated paths, there are people everywhere and to celebrate the day they had set up a gigantic sound system that spread every single note from the band over the entire nature reserve, my charter hotel may not be so stupid after all.
