Las Palmas

Rising like a giant stony thumb from Gran Canaria's rugged skyline, Roque Nublo isn't just geology's middle finger to conventional landscapes-it's a volcanic exclamation mark amidst an island paradise. Hiking here is equal parts pilgrimage and slightly masochistic adventure, as you'll traverse trails punctuated by whispering pines, precarious drop-offs, and postcard-worthy vistas that demand selfies, existential contemplation, and muttered profanity all at once. Go in the early morning or late afternoon if brutal midday sunburn isn't your thing, and pack some sturdy shoes, sunscreen, water, and snacks-you'll curse yourself otherwise. Arriving at the peak in the golden-hour glow, you'll understand why indigenous Canarians once considered this basalt monolith sacred and ritual-worthy. Budget an afternoon for the trek and factor in €10-€20 for post-hike refreshments at one of Tejeda's charming cafes-trust me, you've earned it. Sure, trudging up volcanic terrain just to see an oddly-shaped rock may sound absurdly arbitrary, but the view from atop Roque Nublo is so spectacularly soul-stirring it'll punctuate your holiday anecdotes for years-and isn't a good story precisely why we travel anyway?

If ever you've dreamed of dancing right on the edge of delicious chaos, Carnaval de Las Palmas in Parque Santa Catalina is your moment-picture Rio's flamboyance crossed with a touch of island irreverence and sea breeze mischief. This radiant Canary Islands fiesta dates back centuries, flourishing as one wonderfully unsubtle rejection of somber tradition; it's the kind of place where giant papier-mache sardines are ceremoniously burned for fun (because, why not?) and extravagant drag queens reign supreme, outstripping Brazilian samba queens with sass alone. To maximize the madness, stake out your spot in late afternoon-the carnival wakes up lazily and crescendos delightfully around sunset, hitting fever pitch once night falls. Book your accommodations and flights several months ahead unless you enjoy desperately bartering for a hostel cot or sleeping on a kindly local's sofa. Remember the essentials: comfy shoes, a creative costume (the wilder, the better), cash for spontaneous street snacks, and enough stamina to dance with cheerful strangers until sunrise. Sure, the glitter may linger inconveniently in your suitcase for months afterward and your bank account may groan under the weight of impulsive sangria rounds, but trust me, years from now, your future self will thank you for diving headfirst into this whirlwind of joy-after all, not everyone can boast that they spent a night in Las Palmas surrounded by feathered dancers, fire jugglers, and a community united by pure, unapologetic revelry.

Loro Parque, Tenerife's beloved tropical extravaganza, is the kind of place that straddles the fine line between awe-inspiring wildlife education and outright kitschy spectacle. Built in 1972 by a German entrepreneur obsessed (perhaps suspiciously) with parrots, today it boasts everything from acrobatic dolphins to gorillas giving visitors the side-eye, as well as the world's largest indoor penguin habitat-because, why not have sub-Antarctic creatures basking under subtropical Spanish sun? Arrive early (when the animals still feign enthusiasm), armed with sunscreen, comfortable walking shoes, and a sense of humor-plan your visit at least a day ahead online to dodge lengthy ticket lines. With entry around €40, plus a few euros set aside for refreshments (or a regrettable yet irresistible parrot-shaped souvenir), it won't bankrupt you, yet feels just decadent enough to justify the trek. Whether you find genuine delight watching orcas leap majestically or derive perverse amusement observing tourists getting tragically outwitted by monkeys, Loro Parque is undeniably worth your time-even if it's solely for the priceless cocktail anecdotes about penguins sunbathing on a Spanish island.