Gill and I have generally been in a fortunate position to be able to scoot off on regular holidays, quite often in the sunshine. We have always tried to visit different locations however over the last few years we have taken a liking to Lanzarote and have visited there several times as it ticks many of the boxes we are looking for.
At the southernmost point on the island lies the Playa Blanca resort. My first visit there was when we were on holiday in the resort of Corralejo in 2004 on the neighbouring Canary Island Fuerteventura. There was a regular ferry between the two resorts, and it was about a 30-minute crossing. I recall the journey took place on the day that Andy Lonergan, the Preston goalkeeper performed the unusual feat of scoring from his own penalty area against Leicester.
On arrival in Playa Blanca, we inexplicably turned the wrong way away from the main resort and tried to rectify our error by a short cut through an adjoining hotel and inadvertently become stuck in an all-inclusive complex!
Playa Blanca. Image Credit Jimmy Crossthwaite
Our only other visit and currently our last trip abroad was for a week in Playa Blanca in November 2019. We were somewhat ironically staying very close to the hotel referred above. On the first night we arrived in the evening and had a sally out to a local bar which became a bit of a hub during the stay.
The Irish Anvil is located on the promenade facing the sea, virtually adjacent to the ferry point and was a multipurpose venue. It served food all day including decent breakfasts out on the veranda. It was a large pub with homely alcoves and booths and as befits its name it served a tidy cold Guinness. Whilst sampling this beverage a duo came on called Erica and Steve and the lass had a terrific voice.
I returned at lunchtime next day to watch PNE away at Charlton with a very rare opportunity of going top of the Championship with a win, and they duly obliged via a Paul Gallagher penalty, though we were only top for 24 hours before predictably petering away as the season progressed. Whilst I watched the match, I struck up conversation with a couple of chaps in the next booth from Bamber Bridge, a suburb of Preston, a small world indeed! Five days later in the same hostelry we saw a singer called Sean perform.
Further down the Paseo Maritimo, was a homely little bar called the Old Mill which served some commendable craft beers. There was a little stage in the corner where we saw a geezer called Gerry Cassidy playing.
Heading down towards the old town you chanced upon a huge bar named the Biker Beach Club. Towards the back of the bar was a plethora of pool tables and in the central area were several TV screens showing Champions league football. The front of the bar was populated with a large seating area facing a stage where we saw an act called Tiger Band play.
