We have been to the Canary Islands, and there are no canaries. We have also been to the Virgin Islands … and there are no canaries there either. This is a good joke, (I stole it from our favorite folk song group, The Folk Legacy Trio) but, in fact, it is not accurate.
There are small finches here that are the genetic cousins of the domesticated yellow birds, famous for their songs and sadly, for their coal mine duties. But, the birds are not the source of the name for the islands. It is actually the opposite. The Islands known as the Canaries were not, in fact, named after the chirpy canary but rather owe their name to what the Romans called “Canariae Isullae” which translates to the Island of Dogs. By the time the Romans showed up, the islands were well stocked with wild dogs, most likely the descendants of domesticated dogs brought over by the Guanche.
So, there you have it. The Canary Islands, not a lyrical ode to feathered minstrels, but a nod to our loyal four-legged companions.
Today again, we did nothing much more than lallygag. I am beginning to fear that we may become permanent lallygaggers, as the life style seems to fit us. I did go down to the squash court and hit the ball against the wall for about an hour. Here in my seventy-fourth year I have been introduced to two new racket sports, pickle ball and squash. One wonders what next year might bring. I also finally added VPN (virtual private network) protection to all our devices. Being gone for so long we are forced to handle some financial matters online. For all the travel we have done we have never had a problem, but we felt we were pushing our luck. So yesterday we finally broke down and VPNed all our devices.
Aside from the terrace, the plunge pool, and the spa, we also had one last gourmet meal at the on site restaurant.
Squash
After dinner dip in the pool
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