Santa gets around a bit but even he had a smug happy look at the restaurant window on a crisp, sunny Vilaflor morning. Neal and Karen, the Bournemouth Section of the Armada Sur had joined me for a jolly jaunt into the hills and after a 40 minute Titsa bus trip to Vilaflor we grabbed a coffee outside a local hostelry half way up the main road from our crossroads drop off.

The combination of the warm sun and slight chill in the air fitted nicely with the peace and quiet, even on this main road up to Mount Teide traffic was sparse-mainly lycra clad cyclists testing their muscles. Just across from the bar is a mirador where we took in the fantastic view down into the heart of this sedate town that’s largely untouched by time. Turning down into the road through the jumble of houses we were soon in the plaza where the two churches sit side by side.

Hermano Pedro the local born goatherd was the first Tenerife religious leader to be made a saint and his image is everywhere. The Iglesia de San Pedro Apostle was eerily cold but full of beauty, I ventured up onto the creaking balcony which houses 21 cabinets showing the life history of the great man. Back out in the sun, walkers milled around and picked up guide leaflets for their long treks. Heading further down into town orange trees groaned under the weight of fruit and pots of poinsettias made the main street look even more wonderous.

A detour took us to another micro church where a local was swinging a chicken as he got out of his truck, one swift smack and this rooster had crowed his last. Back at the crossroads near the statue of Hermano Pedro we found a sun soaked patio bar and snacked as we awaited one of the very sporadic buses. The mini Titsa turned up and we veered onto the TF 21 for a twisting, turning one handed rally drive down the corkscrew road. It was a bit hairy but the driver was very relaxed as he chatted to another passenger, we noticed a pink cuddly toy tucked in his storage locker – maybe that was to console white knuckle passengers.

Granadilla arrived with more level roads and after a short wait we caught the 484 bus to Las Galletas for a near hour journey through San Miguel, Aldea Blanco, and Las Chafiras. The sun was sinking low as we strolled around the coast, the tide was about as low as I’ve seen it there, and we were a little low after checking the late newspaper to find we weren’t rich thanks to the El Gordo Christmas lottery. On the big plus side the marina looked lovely in the dying embers of the day and it has been a good tour. Now what’s this Christmas thing everyone is talking about – should I be making some sort of preparations?