Ornate wooden balconies line up facing the Atlantic, like an honour guard drawn up for the ships' arrival. Santa Cruz de La Palma, capital of the greenest of the Canary Islands, was in the 16th century one of the busiest ports in the Spanish Empire: galleons stopped here between Seville and the Americas, and the prosperity of that trade can still be read on every façade. Ships dock at the main quay; a flat ten- to fifteen-minute walk along the Avenida Marítima leads to the old quarter, between the ocean on one side and flower-filled galleries on the other.

A colonial capital facing the sea

Calle Real, the cobbled artery crossing the centre, strings together stately mansions, flowery patios and family shops. It leads to Plaza de España, the finest Renaissance ensemble in the Canaries: the Church of El Salvador, with its Mudéjar ceiling, faces the 16th-century former town hall and a stone fountain where residents meet. Everywhere, the famous balconies: sober and closed on the street side; overflowing with flowers on the ocean side, their glazed galleries suspended above the avenue. The island also carries on a tradition born of transatlantic voyages: hand-rolled cigars, the puros palmeros that are a source of local pride; a few workshops open their doors to the curious.

A stone ship in the middle of the city

Around the corner of a square, an unexpected silhouette appears: a life-size replica of Columbus's Santa María, built of cement, which houses a small naval museum. The Barco de la Virgen plays a central role above all during the Bajada de la Virgen, the island's great festival held every five years, whose highlight remains the Dance of the Dwarfs: dancers wearing enormous bicorne hats whirl through the streets to the sound of bands. The Palmeros talk about it all year round with infectious pride.

The steep island, from crater to stars

All of La Palma tilts in steep slopes behind its capital. Excursions climb to the Caldera de Taburiente, a volcanic cirque eight kilometres across that has become a national park, whose lookouts overlook an abyss carpeted with Canary Island pines. Higher still, at 2,400 metres, the Roque de los Muchachos hosts one of the planet's major astronomical observatories: the island, designated a starlight reserve, deliberately limits its night lighting. To the south, the black lava flows of the Tajogaite volcano recall the 2021 eruption, which reshaped the coastline over 85 days; designated lookouts let you take in its scale safely.

A gourmet break by the ocean

Back in town, the terraces near the market serve papas arrugadas with mojo verde, grilled goat cheese and the island's small, sweet bananas, washed down with a glass of malvasía, the sweet wine that already delighted 16th-century sailors. The volcanic-sand beach next to the port allows for one last swim before the ship sets sail.

What you take away

At departure, the flower-filled balconies file past one last time along the avenue, and the island suddenly seems bigger than on arrival: you now know it holds an immense crater, misty forests and one of the purest starry skies in the world. Santa Cruz de La Palma doesn't hold on to its visitors; it simply slips into their luggage a thousand reasons to devote to it, another time, much more than a port call — if only a night beneath its stars.