The canary islands are a cluster of islands off the coast of Africa. The name "canary" actually derives from the latin word for dog, "canus" on account of the first settlers finding many such animals on the island. I didn't see any dogs, but there were cats. tons of the buggers, sprawled out in the sun. I guess the saying on this island is "it's a cat's life".

My parent's don't often go on holiday, so when they do they usually aim for somewhere better than your average roach motel in a holiday resort. And this time they had chosen well - the Barcelo hotel in Caletta del Fuste. The hotel was huge, utterly modern and drenched in marble and swimming pools. The rooms were huge as were the beds. The buffet restaurant contained a staggering cornucopia of food like something out of Caligula and the staff were friendly and highly-skilled. The weather had been some what schizophrenic on arrival and so the thought of spending an entire week inside the complex should it rain did not displease me. Fortunately, the weather behaved itself throughout the week and i thought no more about it.

The first thing i noticed about Fuerteventura is that it's dry. Really dry. For the most part the land is arid volcanic soil. Which means that the island can be covered in sand dunes that suddenly burst into flora at a single raindrop. Some people like leafy, oasis-style resorts but i'm more fond of dry places so this was all good.

For the most part, i spent the holiday either lolled out on the sun bed away from everyone and everything, but i did to get to check out some really neat wildlife. I went on a camel ride at a nearby park. I love camels, and this was something i had always wanted to do. However, i became somewhat uncertain as soon as i was strapped into a seat and the camel stood up. I noticed some kind of black, tarry liquid oozing out the back of the camel's neck. I thought that maybe the straps were digging into the poor beast but it turns out that i was sitting on the only teenage camel in the entire group, and the black stuff was fluid from a glad he expels when in heat. It was just my luck to be strapped onto a horny camel, desperate to get laid by the female dromedary in front. We rode along the very edge of a bloody tall mountain, something i think was done on purpose by the burly Moroccans. One of them smacked my camel in the face when it refused a blade of grass, and this infuriated me but i was simply too paralysed by the breathtaking-but-fucking-high-up view of desert at the immediate side of me.

Another excursion saw me take a boat ride out into the sea to a place where dolphins and whales often congregated. Sadly, they weren't there on the day we went out, but there was a big sea turtle, and lots of fish. The boat ride was a great way to unwind. I lay on the tarpaulin for most of the trip and listened the sea beneath me, and the wind above.

We were also treated to a tour of the marine hospital which contained a bizarre variety of strange sealife including the formidable Moray Eel, Ray fish, Trigger fish (which has a mouth so powerful that they can bite through fingerbone like it was butter) and an octopus. There was also a sea lion show which boasted the only open-water Sea Lion in the world that hung around daily just to impress the tourists. And get fish. Interestingly enough, the maintenance mechanic that worked round the boats was from my hometown in Hampshire. Bang went my plan to spend the holidays in pleasant isolation around the locals.

The island was teaming with wildlife. When i wasn't sunbathing, i would wonder along the expanse of rocks by the sea looking at rockpools. One day i was watching a race between a group of hermit crabs (something you can't understand unless you're actually there) when i suddenly noticed some kind of critter jumping between the rocks with the grace of a soviet ballerina.

I fished out some peanuts out of my pockets, and it came running towards me. It was a chipmunk, God's plan-B for squirrels, and it jumped onto my hand, took the nut and decided to bury it in front of me. Just like that. I though it was then going to charge me for performing such a spectacle, but instead the chipmunk decided to split. I shook my head and went back to looking at the fish sunbathing in my rockpool.

My parents were content in just chilling out in the shade, reading their books and soaking in the warmth, but even so we all agreed that we should do a little exploring. Every night we would wander through the local sprawl of beautiful villas, but they were crammed with ex-pats, and all the local joints were places like "Keith's English Pub" and "Tommy O'Leary's Genuine Oirish Bar". We had had enough of seeing placed with menus boasting "full English" and bars with Sky Sports being played at full volume. It was time to mingle with the natives.

Originally, i had wanted to see the old capital, Betancuria, but there was only a single bus to and from the place which finished at midday and there were no taxi firms in the town. So we decided to go to newer capital of Puerto Del Rosario. I'm glad we went - it was a magnificent little town - a mixture of seaside cheer and beautifully maintained urban buildings. It was utterly Spanish and yet very distinct. We stopped at a bar to grab a soft drink and the bar maid was like every bar maid you get in Spain - surly looking but with a heart of gold. We wondered around, admiring the prosperous little shops and architecture, and then headed back to the hotel feeling utterly satisfied.

One of the things i have always thought a person would do if they decided to live in a foreign country is to learn the language. Sadly, most of the British working in Fuerteventura was completely ignorant of the Spanish tongue. I wondered if it occurred to them that foreigners spoke English out of convenience rather than because wanted to.

My mum had stopped in at this restaurant near the hotel to ask for directions. She did so in Spanish, under the assumption that the waitress would understand. "Sorry, no speako Spanish" was the reply the girl gave us. My mum asked her how long she'd be living in Fuerteventura for. "Eight years" was the reply, and we left horrified. Even our rep, the illustrious Becky from Nottingham seemed somewhat evasive about her knowledge of the local language, though she was quick to tell us on many occasion that this was her "fifth season" at island. I would have got annoyed at her, but she seemed genuinely intent on making sure we had a good time. And she had nice teeth.

I was sad to see the end of my holiday in the Canary Islands. I hadn't realised how much i'd missed wildlife in general. I walk through the heart of central London most days without batting an eyelid, passing events and shops that impress my out-of-town friends but fail to stir much in me. Yet during my stay in Fuerteventura, i would spend half an hour mesmerised by even the most tiny things such as hornets tearing at plants, beetles scuttling across the hot tarmac or just watching the sea anemones drift in rhythm with the sea current between the rocks. I'm glad i went, and would recommend this amazing island to anyone who's interested in a warm holiday all year round.