El Hierro, the End-of-the-Map Island

Here we go again.
There are another five videos to go and we’re up to speed. Again.

In this episode we finally arrive on El Hierro — the westernmost island of the Canary Islands, and one that instantly felt different.

We were lucky with timing. We came in spring, when the plains up in the mountains were still lush and green. Only later did I learn that this isn’t the default setting. Once summer really settles in, El Hierro changes its mood.

Wind, Shelter, and the “Simple” Errand Problem

When we arrived, we already thought it was windy. Turns out, that was the warm-up.

Toward summer, the wind can blow close to 40 knots on many days — and it can keep doing that for months. The port of La Estaca gives good shelter, but El Hierro has its own kind of practicality test: if you want to go anywhere (even just to buy food), you have to go up the mountain first.

The main town isn’t much more than a larger village, sitting about 600 meters above the harbor. Getting there means either a very steep, rocky walk — or about an hour on the bike, often with headwinds that make you question why you ever thought cycling was a good hobby.

So we did what felt like the sane option: we rented a car and explored properly.

Cloud Forest, Pine Forest, and Volcanic Coastlines

El Hierro is a collection of contrasts packed into one small island.

We drove into the laurel cloud forest (laurisilva) where everything feels damp, green, and quiet — and then, not long after, into pine forest with a totally different smell and light. And then we went back down to the rugged coastlines: the raw western and southern shores, volcanic rock, big open ocean, and places that feel like they were never meant to be “tamed.”

One of the moments that stayed with me was Playa del Verodal, with its red sand and harsh beauty — the kind of place where you don’t need many words. You just stand there and let it sink in.

La Restinga and a Hard Reality

There was one part of El Hierro that hit differently.

Down in La Restinga, it was shocking to see how often boats arrive from Senegal. El Hierro has more refugees arriving per year than it has inhabitants.

It’s hard to describe what that does to your perspective, especially when you’re living the “freedom version” of being at sea.

Because it’s difficult to imagine the level of despair it takes to board a boat like that — or to put your kids on it — when you don’t know if you’ll make it, and you don’t know if you’ll have a chance to stay even if you do.

Harsh, Remote, and Beautiful

El Hierro felt like an “end of the world” experience in the best and the hardest sense.

Harsh and rugged. Far away from everything else. Somewhere out in the Atlantic. At the coast it can be blistering hot in the sun and wind, and up in the mountains it can be surprisingly chilly. And if you want to go anywhere beyond your immediate neighborhood, it takes time.

And yet… the beauty is unmatched.

Wow. What a wonder of the world.

Welcome aboard.

— Floh