Villa Winter Canary Islands: What Really Happened at Fuerteventura’s Most Mysterious House

Villa Winter Canary Islands: What Really Happened at Fuerteventura’s Most Mysterious House

You’ve seen the photos. A lonely, white fortress-like structure sitting on the edge of the Jandía Peninsula in Fuerteventura, looking like it belongs in a Bond villain’s portfolio rather than a Spanish beach destination. This is the Villa Winter Canary Islands. Honestly, if you hike over the Degollada de Granillo to see it, the first thing you feel isn't "vacation vibes." It’s unease. The wind howls across the Cofete beach, the sand stings your ankles, and there, at the base of the volcanic mountains, sits a house that has fueled more conspiracy theories than almost any other building in Europe.

It’s isolated. I mean really isolated.

Even today, getting to Cofete requires a bumpy, 45-minute drive on unpaved roads that will make your rental car insurance provider weep. Back in the 1940s? It was practically the end of the world. So, why would Gustav Winter, a German engineer, build a massive estate with a round tower and a basement full of dark rumors in a place where you couldn’t even get fresh water easily?

The Man Behind the Myth: Who Was Gustav Winter?

Gustav Winter wasn’t some random expat looking for a retirement spot. He was an engineer born in the Black Forest who moved to Spain in 1915. He worked on power plants in Gran Canaria and Zaragoza. He was smart. Very smart. By the 1930s, he had his sights set on the Jandía peninsula.

Most people think the villa was built during the height of World War II, but that’s not quite right. While Winter leased the entire peninsula in 1937, the actual structure we see today—the Villa Winter Canary Islands—was largely constructed in 1946. That date is crucial. Why build a fortress after the war was lost?

Local legends suggest Winter was a Nazi agent. They say the house was a "safe house" for high-ranking officers fleeing to South America via the "ratlines." Some people even swear Adolf Hitler himself stopped by for a quick cosmetic surgery before heading to Argentina. Is there proof? Not really. But the architecture doesn’t help quiet the rumors. The walls are abnormally thick. The windows are small. The basement has tiled rooms that look suspiciously like medical clinics or laboratories.

👉 See also: Weather at Lake Charles Explained: Why It Is More Than Just Humidity

The Submarine Base Theory

If you talk to the locals in Morro Jable, they’ll eventually bring up the submarines. The theory goes like this: the Villa Winter was a beacon or a supply station for German U-boats.

The geography sort of supports it, but the logistics are a nightmare. The water off Cofete is notoriously shallow and dangerous. It's called "Cofete" because of the "coffin-like" waves. However, researchers like Pedro de Felipe have pointed out that the volcanic rock under the villa is porous. There are natural lava tubes. Could a small sub have snuck into a sea cave? Maybe. But professional divers who have surveyed the area haven't found a secret underwater garage yet.

What we do know is that the area was declared a "military zone" during the war. Nobody was allowed in or out without Winter's permission. That kind of secrecy breeds ghost stories. You've got a German engineer, a private peninsula, and a world at war. It’s a recipe for a thriller novel.

Walking Through the Villa Winter Canary Islands Today

Today, the villa is a crumbling shadow of its former self. It’s technically owned by a construction company (Lopesan), but for years, it has been "guarded" by Pedro Fumero. Pedro’s family has lived there for generations—his grandfather worked for Winter.

Pedro is a character. He’s turned part of the house into a makeshift museum. It’s not a polished, government-run site. It’s messy. It’s raw. You’ll see old batteries, rusted machinery, and photographs pinned to the walls.

✨ Don't miss: Entry Into Dominican Republic: What Most People Get Wrong

The Basement

This is where things get weird. There are rooms with no windows, thick wooden doors, and specialized tiling. Pedro will tell you about "the surgery." He believes the villa was used for facial reconstruction—changing the identities of Nazis on the run. While historians like Alex Peer, who wrote a biography of Gustav Winter, argue that the house was just a failed agricultural project, the basement feels... off.

The Tower

The circular tower on the northeast corner is another sticking point. It looks like a lighthouse. But there’s no light. If you stand up there, you have a 360-degree view of the coast and the mountains. In the 1940s, it would have been the perfect spot for a radio transmitter. Winter was an electrical engineer, after all.

Separating Fact from Fuerteventura Folklore

Let’s be real for a second. Most of the "evidence" for the Nazi-hideout theory is circumstantial.

  1. The Airstrip: There is a flat stretch of land nearby that looks like an airfield. Winter claimed it was for agricultural use.
  2. The Krupp Machinery: Yes, there was high-end German equipment on site. But Winter was an engineer; he liked German tech.
  3. The "W" Logo: You’ll see the letter 'W' on the gates. Some say it stands for Winter; others whisper it’s a stylized occult symbol. It’s probably just a family monogram.

The agricultural theory is that Winter wanted to grow tomatoes and keep livestock. But Cofete is a desert. It’s salty, windy, and dry. Even with the "galerías" (water tunnels) he dug into the mountains, it was a terrible place for a farm. That’s why the "he was just a farmer" excuse doesn't stick for most visitors. It was a massive investment for zero return.

How to Actually Visit (And What to Bring)

If you’re planning to see the Villa Winter Canary Islands, don't just put it in Google Maps and hope for the best.

🔗 Read more: Novotel Perth Adelaide Terrace: What Most People Get Wrong

First, get a 4x4. You can make it in a Fiat 500, but you will hate yourself and your tires will probably pop. The road from Morro Jable is gravel, switchbacks, and steep drops. It’s beautiful, but terrifying if you aren't used to it.

Second, bring cash. There is no official entry fee, but Pedro Fumero survives on donations from tourists. If he shows you the "secret" rooms or tells you stories about the "black kitchen," throw a few Euros his way. It’s the only way the place stays open.

Third, go early. By 2:00 PM, the wind picks up. The dust in Cofete is no joke. It gets into your eyes, your camera, and your sandwich.

The Legacy of a Mystery

The Villa Winter isn't just a house; it’s a symbol of the Canary Islands' complicated role in mid-century geopolitics. While the Spanish mainland was reeling from the Civil War, the islands were a crossroads. Ships, spies, and refugees all passed through here.

Whether Gustav Winter was a simple engineer with a weird taste in real estate or a key player in a global escape network remains a mystery. The Spanish government hasn't done much to preserve the site, which almost adds to the charm. It’s decaying. It’s honest. It’s not a sanitized tourist trap.

Actionable Next Steps for Travelers

  • Rent a high-clearance vehicle: Specifically look for a Jeep or a Dacia Duster in Morro Jable. Standard rental contracts often forbid driving on unpaved roads like the one to Cofete, so check the fine print or buy the extra "unpaved road" coverage if available.
  • Check the weather for wind speeds: If the wind is over 40 km/h, the drive becomes significantly more dangerous due to sand drifts and visibility.
  • Visit the Morro Jable Port first: Look at the U-boat memorial plaque there. it sets the mood before you head out to the villa.
  • Read "The Villa" by Rosanna Ley: It’s a fictionalized account, but it captures the atmosphere of the Jandía peninsula perfectly if you want some "vibe" reading before your trip.
  • Respect the privacy: Remember that people still live in and around the villa. Don't go wandering into rooms that aren't clearly part of the "museum" area unless invited.

The Villa Winter Canary Islands will likely never give up its secrets. The ocean is reclaiming the coast, the wind is eating the plaster, and the people who knew the truth are long gone. That's probably exactly how Gustav Winter wanted it.