The bits that don’t work are the ones that work a strange magic on me. Descending into the centre of Puerto de la Cruz on the 343 Titsa bus from Los Cristianos I was almost reassured to see the old abandoned bus station gradually shedding its coating of lime green paint. It will fall down one day, I’m convinced and I would feel cheated not to see it, especially after feeling it shudder when buses used to trundle inside down the ramp.
It was probably a couple of years since my last visit but it was like putting on some old frayed and comfortable slippers as I walked up the steep steps of Calle Iriarte with its horned tree sculpture. Cutting through into Plaza de la Iglesia brought a surge of pleasure at the sight of the magnificent church and the feast of greenery and the dry but ornate fountain in the plaza. Like a dog revisiting favourite haunts I was keen to sniff out some remembered places, the Plaza de Europa was partly covered in scaffolding from the recent Carnaval but beyond it the harbour wall allowed the wind to blow through my ear holes as the waves rolled in down below.
La Cofradia de Pescadores have a nice modern building these days for selling their catch and the upstairs restaurant serves up terrific food with a fishy theme. I was lured into the exhibition hall by a large display of model ships filling two floors, it was free to browse with just a request for donations in a collecting box that struggled to hold anything more than loose change.
One of the big changes since my last visit was the unpopular demolition of the ancient wall running along San Telmo, the sight of the diggers gouging out a supposedly better landscape wasn’t convincing. The shopkeepers along the Paseo San Telmo must be cursing the tight run that potential shoppers have to negotiate to reach the other end of the seafront.
Normally I would get off the bus at the top of the La Paz district on the way down into the city centre but this time I took the winding path up to the mirador stopping off halfway for some tapas at the Tasca Barossa. The Spanish owners were obviously keen fans of American country music and Anne Murray serenaded me with Snowbird in the slightly drafty outdoor seating area. The view down to the sea was pleasant and the little wrap around blankets on the back of the whicker chairs confirmed that this busy junction of paths was no stranger to a bracing breeze. Carrying on to the top of the walk I surveyed the Playa de Martianez below, it looked almost naked without the two old sea facing bars that had finally been removed. Before I left I nodded a quick hello to the bust of Agatha Christie, who knocked out a short story on a brief stay, and the Rotary Club statue of two eager explorers.
Up in La Paz I met the well traveled Jack and Andrea Montgomery on their own patch for coffee and delicious pastries at El Aderno. After squeezing in my business call I headed down to the street serving as a makeshift bus station, the crumbling original was finally closed in 2009 but a 1.5 million euro replacement has been promised, and promised, and promised. On top of the old station building a drained water feature looked very sad with it spread winged seagull missing a head and some very blunt Anglo Saxon tourets graffiti that some may feel reflects the Ayuntamiento (council) response to this area and its users. For me these just provided more moments of amusement on a very enjoyable trip.