Although perched on a grassy knoll, we were innocent of taking down two Guanche kings. Their absence at the edge of the Basilica Plaza in Candelaria was caused by the constant undermining crash of waves. The gap still looked strange from a steep path curling up behind the church tower but we could see the coast was clear to head south on the Sanmarines trail.

Crumbling mountain edges had to be respected but the way forward was beckoning us to follow. The sea breeze, call of the gulls, and the glint of the ocean induced a feeling of peace and solitude. Tufts of tabaiba plants looked like a green moss from a distance but  closer up they clung to any inviting rock face at the steepest of angles.

Samarines beach had a well trodden track meandering down and up through a small cove. Sprayed by the waves it looked refreshing but big razor sharp rocks lurked not far below the surface. The coast was always close to us but on cresting the next hill, the path ran close to the industrial estate. At one stage a detour to the main road was the best option before cutting down the wider rocky stretch that channelled us down tino Playa de Viuda (Widows Beach) a small fishing hamlet. Weather beaten dwellings seemed to be breathing in away from the  eager grasp of the sea. The tides had clearly knocked on a few doors and even the wooden barriers looked pickled by the salty swell.

Further along, El Socorro welcomed us with its choice of a sandy cove or a wilder surfers beach. In busier times, a couple of shacks, near the mural of the Virgen, would be seling drinks and snacks. Crunching pebbles were denied the pleasure of making their mark on polished boards that were looking to ride the waves. Old low level crumbling homes blended in as lava marked the start of the Malpais de Guimar. We were a mere 10,000 years late for the volcanic flow but picked our way along paralell to the sea. Our  gratitude to the dedicated path maker s soared with each step.

El Puertito de Guimar was getting nearer as the sea served up increasing driftwood. looking inland we could see the motorway linking Santa Cruz with the south, and Montaña Grande spreading to the junction up to the historic heart of Guimar in the hills. As we left the lava behind, young explorerswere led by family over the threshold to sample the legacy of the past ages. It´s hard not to be inspired by the dramatic intrusion from beneath the earth.