A dune field, not a desert
The park was declared in 1982 — originally as one protected area together with the neighbouring islet of Isla de Lobos, separated administratively in 1994 — and covers a little over 2,600 hectares along the north-east coast. Despite the local story, the sand did not blow in from the Sahara: it is organic, ground down over millennia from marine shell and skeletal material and pushed inland by the trade winds. That origin is why it reads pale, close to white in places, rather than the red-brown of a continental desert.
The dunes are alive. They move, slowly and constantly, which is why the road crossing them has to be cleared of drifting sand. The interior is protected habitat — sparse salt-tolerant vegetation and ground-nesting birds — so keep to obvious paths rather than cutting across untouched dune faces. Two large hotels stand directly on the beach inside the park; they were built before protection came in and have been the subject of a long-running legal argument ever since. Everything else along this coast is undeveloped, and a couple of hundred metres from the road you hear nothing but wind.








