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In 1730 Timanfaya in Lanzarote, one of the Canary Islands, erupted and continued to do so for the next six years. Its lava flow stretched for many miles until finally stopped by the Atlantic. Near El Golfo, where volcano met ocean, erosion has produced a brilliant emerald green lagoon surrounded by great cliffs of red, russet and orange produced from minerals ejected by the eruption. It is as if el Diablo himself had artistic ambitions.

                                  fire and water
                              wrapping the coast
                                  in technicolor

Between the Fire Mountain and the sea lies the Malpais - the bad lands, where miles of boulder sized cinders litter the landscape. Impossible to walk, the only route to the summit is by car as far as a restaurant, appropriately named El Diablo. From The Devil’s restaurant we continued by guided bus through a sculptured landscape of tortured rocks streaked with red, black, orange and yellow, fused together. Black and almost devoid of green, the Malpais is not lifeless, for a crust of scaly grey and white lichen is spreading inexorably over the rocks.

                                  lichen scratched on rocks
                                    life ending
                                      and life beginning

At the entrance to El Diablo, conceived by the famous local artist, architect and conservationist, Cesar Manrique, there is a deep well sunk into the volcano and covered by a grill. The temperature reaches 300°C and is used to grill food for the restaurant. The floor here is pleasantly warm but just outside the ground is covered by small cinders too hot to hold for long, stout shoes needed here.
We stay to watch the daily “circus tricks” - brushwood dropped into a shallow trench bursts into flame and a bucket of water poured into a hole erupts within seconds with a roar like an express train to produce an immense geyser

 We make our way home through this lunar landscape awed by the catastrophic power let loose and ponder on the inescapable fact that one day it will all happen again. Back at our villa, appropriately in the evening sun we cook our dinner over the barbecue.

                                  grey ashes
                                gently settling
                             over red hot coals