The Tourist Centers continue to inspire the short stories of the Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero contest, which has continued to receive stories in recent days. The deadline to participate in the tenth edition of the contest will remain open until August 31.
Those interested can send their stories to the email concursorelatos@lanzarotemedia.net, with a maximum length of 100 words, including the title if it has one. On this occasion, it is proposed to write a story that takes place inside one of the Tourist Centers of Lanzarote, whether it be the Montañas del Fuego, Jameos del Agua, the Cueva de los Verdes, the Monumento al Campesino, the Jardín de Cactus, the Mirador del Río or the MIAC-Castillo de San José.
Each author may send a maximum of five stories, which may be signed with a pseudonym, although they must always indicate a name and a contact telephone number. The stories will be published in order of receipt in La Voz de Lanzarote and will be read in the 'Reading on the Radio' section of Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero.
The decision of the contest, which will be made public in the second half of September, will be made by a jury made up of journalists from Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero and La Voz de Lanzarote. The winner will receive a prize of a weekend for two people at the Hotel Boutique Isla y el Mar in Puerto del Carmen, while the second prize will consist of a dinner for two people at the Castillo de San José and the third winner will receive a lunch for two people at the Monumento al Campesino.
In addition, on this occasion there will also be a prize for the fourth classified, who will be able to enjoy a Premium experience in the Tourist Centers.
Untitled
Let's walk its infinite steps. César seems to touch the sky in every place. Straight or curved lines mark the way, let's get carried away. Without times. Without sadness. Above the earth, below or perhaps in the bowels of some volcano. With views of the rofe or the ocean itself. Any place is good to tell you how much I miss you dad. I need the magic that emanates from his creations to be happy again, like when I was little and I only needed to have you next to me. So while you return, even if only in dreams, I'll stay here.
The gorse and the camel
-There, behind that volcano-said the camel to his faithful companion the gorse, making his way through dry lava and humid wind. Are you sure, friend camel, that such a beautiful melody comes from that house buried under the lava of Timanfaya?-Next stop, Jameos Del Agua correspondence with Cuevas De Los Verdes and end of the trip.
Moral; Give to Cesar M. what is Cesar M.'s and to God what is God's.
Untitled
There it was. Still inflamed eyes and red nose. Gaze in the background, lost in the immense depth of that cave. Hearing without listening to I don't know what stories of a certain Soto and pirates and something about a family of a particular color.
Suddenly a hand. Her hand. And the warmth spread from her fingers upwards. Fingers, hand, forearm, arm and heart. And a knowing smile, almost sideways.
Lights and shadows.
And then a stone in the middle of the illusion. And then laughter. A kiss on the cheek.
Everything is not okay, but it will be better.
Untitled
Lunar landscape. Mountain of fire. The hurricanes of July now seemed like a slight breeze. Land of passage turned into home.
He remembers now, years ago, the homesickness turned into sadness. Changing some coasts for others. From north to south. Very far south. Changing the dark green for the salty turquoise. Changing Sil for Atlantic and albariño for malvasía. In the same way that water changes to boiling steam in Timanfaya.
Taking your breath away.
Changing, not replacing.
Slowing down the rhythms.
Who was going to tell you, sailor, that the sirens sing louder the softer their accent?
Untitled
We visited the tourist centers of Lanzarote, the last one, the Mirador del Río.
Everything was silent, the landscape called for peace,
We sat down to have a coffee,
We had been awake since 5 in the morning,
Getting to know Lanzarote was not in our plans, we missed a flight and had to stay a few days in Madrid,
A friend offered us his house in Lanzarote, it was August, it was the best option.
Sitting there, ..we had no doubts,
We felt an incredible attraction for the Island and its landscapes.
In seconds, we decided to leave everything...our life on the other side of the world.
Destiny has its own course.
"Just in time"
"I was looking at the imposing cliff. My body was rushing, inert and broken. One step, another...but, who is stopping me? I had driven to El Mirador del Río determined to conclude what started in Las Nieves. They hold me back. I turn around furiously. Your gaze scrutinizes me.
-Are you going to leave us like this?
-Us? Who? -I rebuked you.
Your hand pointed to my belly, which, warm, touched it. Then you took it to your heart.
I clung to my belly. Could it be true? I looked at your face and I knew it. I extended my hand, you pulled it and you rolled me between your arms, expected calm for my fears."
The Secret
They say nothing is what it seems.
At that moment, inside that ancient rocky structure in which ochre, reddish and black colors were intermingled, the child understood it.
There was no greater metaphor than that produced by that play of light and shadows that now illuminated the end of that unique journey.
Dazzled by what he identified as a secret hiding place inside the earth, he promised to return.
That was only the first of the many experiences that awaited him on the Island of Volcanoes.
Conejero Romance
The sea that saw me born
flowed into these beaches.
And here I am among palm trees,
among verodes and gorse.
Here I saw my dreams grow
with perenquenes and houbara bustards,
and the blind crabs
from the "Jameos del Agua".
Here I planted my roots,
in this burnt land,
in the heat of the volcanoes
that feed my hope.
Here I live my silences.
Here I can listen to my soul,
which is the soul of these people
warm and hospitable...
People of the sea and the countryside,
party-goers and good-natured,
warm and welcoming...
May its flame not be extinguished!
Castle of San José
Last night I almost dreamed of you; I arrived just as you were leaving our sandcastle. Flooded with sadness, I climbed to the highest tower; I tied our flag around my neck, like a tie, and threw myself into the void...
As I exhaled my last breath I saw you arrive; you brought the basket full of rolls, green apples and memories... It smelled of freshly made coffee... and I woke up with a sugar cube in my soul.
The raven of Timanfaya
It's still burning below. Hell grows and devours everything in its path. Up here I think I'm safe, but I'm already starting to feel the heat of the fire. My eyes are tinged with the red of the flames. My feathers sting...
The abyss continues to advance... and my soul is drowned in silence. However, I keep holding on. I am the last guardian of Timanfaya...
But... I'm so tired... My body weighs more and more. I undress. And, already naked of feathers and black letters, I fall asleep. Tomorrow I will continue watching...
Eternal
Even being from here, that day magic sparkled when I entered the viewpoint, I sat in front of the glass to enjoy those views of La Graciosa that made my coffee more intense, we were simple strangers enjoying a meter and a half away, I couldn't avoid it, I looked at him, he did too, that look filled my soul with things that had been dormant for a long time, why not? I thought, what do I have to lose? I asked myself with my whole conejera face I approached and introduced myself, 20 years later I still enjoy coffee and him.
Grottoes to your interior
Loving you is like entering the Cueva de Los Verdes, moving underground for kilometers, from the volcano to the coast and caressing the lava with the certainty that you can shelter me in your entrails as if I were a child.
Then, when I already think that I have reached my destination, that I can finally enter your heart and that you feel the same as me, I look into your abyss and, bewitched by the depth of your beauty, I let myself be deceived once more by your mirage.
I am you
Scented with saltpeter, she entered the cave.
-my first time, in a volcanic cave,
-I hope it's not the last one, darling.
The guide shouted: -careful, a precipice! (a puddle) -don't get close, and above all, if you see your reflection in the precipice, never look it in the eyes.
-what a load of crap, I stayed last, and I looked at it.
A hand came out of the water and took me to the depths,
my reflection, took my place.
Before leaving with my husband, she left me a disturbing message:
-I am your desires, your hatreds and your phobias, now I will leave you, I am you.
Aporia
Lanzarote is an aporia. In this earthly sphere, God made a monument when he heard the following story in the world of dreams.
The beloved peasant through his watery jameos formed a bouquet of cacti from a garden that does not need water. Its irrigation comes from the interior fire of the mountains that turns the reddish into olive-colored. Since San José watched over the virgin in the castle, he came out of his cave with his green thoughts that carried his aroma to look in the river of imagination at the figure of his beloved countrywoman.
