Was it The Twilight Zone or Westworld when the power goes off? I had pitched up in Santa Cruz at Carnaval midday, when party animals were sleeping last night off and mere mortals like myself were flooding in for the big Coso parade later in the afternoon. Several fancy dress bodies were snoozing where they had dropped and as the fair rides stood eerily still, burgers, hot dogs, and spuds were being stock piled for the assault ahead.

I walked through to Teatro Guimera, the temporary end of the Tenerife tram line and found a gradual stirring of people, nearly all the shops were closed for this local holiday but along at Plaza del Principe music was blaring out as groups performed. The weather had blossomed nicely with bright sunshine as parade performers prepared in side streets, a group of multi coloured Murgas were helped into their outfits and had make up applied to their faces. Even at their young ages they were real troopers, turning on the smiles for curious cameras as they battled the nerves.

I passed by Plaza de España where the goliath sized stage towered over all like a cathedral, empty now but I hope to see it throbbing with music at Saturday’s all day celebrations. The plaza lake was drained and sealed off and makeshift cafes had set up around the edges, the sizzling burgers and onions were forcing my nostrils open and teasing my tummy. Two large cruise liners had just come into port and a tidal wave of passengers rushed up the stairway from the quay to Avenida Anaga where the floats and bands were assembling. One ship, Aidabella had just come from Las Palmas and many of her guests were already decked out in party gear from the Gran Canaria carnaval, small stall holders along the promenade gleefully waited to kit them out.

The Avenida and Paseo Maritima were packed with carnaval fans, the front few rows had bagged their seats hours before while others climbed, statues, trees, and the cactus trimmed cafe roofs by the plaza, to get a prime view point. Just before 4pm the lead marching band drummed up a strident rhythm and the parade set off very slowly. The Carnaval Queen Carmen Gil led the way as dancers and baton twirlers trailed behind them, individual characters darted between the main acts displaying delightfully bad taste and squritng their admirers with water. Cameras clicked and proud parents waved to their offspring as the procession inched along.

This year the road widening work on the Via Litoral made things a bit more restricted, I found this out the hard way, squeezing through a gap only to find a sheer drop to the underpass halting my progress, a few risked a narrow ledge but I retraced my steps back along the Avenida to find a crossing point to the city side of the street. This detour really underlined the length and sheer numbers of the parade, I finally found the tail down by the old jet foil station with many smaller vehicles still waiting to move off. Crossing and squeezing along the packed pavement outside the busy bars and cafes I eventually caught up with the half way section of the parade for some more photos.

The leading performers had reached the fair by now and were ripping off layers of costume and grabbing a drink and a cigarette as padded hats and jackets were slung into vans. The big wheel and other scarey rides were turning now, the formal part of the day over meant it was time to party into the night. I had my own game to play, sardines at the bus station, but thanks to the Titsa bus company I was soon heading back to the south with memories of one of the biggest and best Coso parades in recent years.