Plane spotters would normally be well blessed with a trip to La Esperanza in the municipality of El Rosario. Alas there was not so much as an Airfix model on the Tenerife North runways as my bus took the uphill turn just across from the La Laguna bus station – well that´s the ongoing Covid effect.
Never mind, my bell was soon rung when I spotted a perplexing duo of scylptures presiding over a fork in the road at El Calvario, a traditional spiritual home for church crosses. The old TF24 is a direct route up through the pine forest on the way to Mount Teide national park. The two sculptures reflected a local commercial tradition of using pine needles to pack wholesale fruit and vegatables. The rights to this process are put out to tender but the gathering of the pointed articles is still very much a manual labour, the monument paid tribute to the pinocheros and pinocheras who have gathered the tricky little blighters over the decades. The artistic salute was made by local artist Dacil Travieso,
I was a few stops short of my intended destination but nothing that a short uphill stroll would not put right. La Esperanza plaza soon appeared and the neighbouring Ayuntamiento (council) building. Dacil had been busy with her chisel, a lechera stood proud with her delivery of milk perched on her head. A fountain, starved of water, was also nearby but the nearby greenery showed that the drought would only be a short one.
My compass had been drawn to La Esperanza by an orange intruder among the green Titsa buses at the La Laguna bus station. Although an independent company they run two services into La Esperanza, one with a direct link to Tenerife 2 prison, and they take the usual Titsa payment cards. Back at the two central plazas, an old wine press promoted another local industry. The main road wound on up towards the pine forest to reveal some great view over Santa Cruz and out to sea. It was eerily quiet, a few TUI tour buses, and lycra clad cyclists headed through, and BRIFOR forest fire patrol trucks added reassurance against summer fires.
A good selection of restaurants, cafes, and bars with big parking areas, stood ready to receive once tourists come back to the island in numbers. Vilaflor is a more common route for Teide visitors but there´s plenty of scope to see some local history while breaking a journey at this alternative. The Ermita Las Rosas looked a little lonely and forlorn but the local council news magazine held plenty of promise, especially with a new cultural centre just opening.
Where 500 metre high cliffs stand shoulder to shoulder into the horizon, and the north and west coasts of Tenerife dovetail together, Punta de Teno imposes itself on the landscape. I felt envious of the osprey that soar and nest in the folds of the cliffs. Even at ground level there´s plenty to admire, it is still a living part of the island with fishermen well versed in the unpredictable currents of the sea.
Easing into my visit, chugging up a tight single file mountain road, Far below breaking waves lapped at the Buenavista del Norte golf course and a pristine stretch of shingle beach. On one of the first days of the 2021 summer season of the 369 Titsa bus, I gazed forward as the road seemed to hit mid air. The inside rock face was being kept in check by heavy duty steel fencing and pins embedded by pile drivers. Punta de Teno was the destination beauty at the end of this magnificent beast of an incline, and worth my preceeding 460 bus ride from Adeje to Icod, and a short coastal change past Garachico and Los Silos in Buenavista del Norte.
The partial collapse of the mountain link road in 2016 led to restrictions on the rebuilt access. A manned barrier allows a few people through including the bus during July, August, and Septenber. A mere one euro each way secures the 460 ride, a Ten Mas plastic pre paid card or its mobil app version is alo acceptable, but not the residents and OAPs tickets. Cyclists were also sharing our temporary immersion in a long dark tunnel on part of the upper route.
Fisherman have access to their fleet, a dozen boats were sheltered at the back of the small Teno beach, and an equal number were out riding the waves just beyond a scattering of bathers. The lighthouse stood guard where the conflicting currents came together. Even with a green flag and guards in attendance, the exposed waters outside the bay are worthy of the utmost respect. Farolgists love to study our candy striped friends, this sample dates back to 1897 and is a very reassuring prescence.
At the western side of the bay, the modern holiday hire Casablanca is a strange anomoly but may have been updated from an old and more modest farmhouse. The paths through the old lava deposits meander to other vantage points but the potential dangers are there at every step. just a short distance from the drop off and pick up point, its easy to feel the isolation that spans the centurys. A view down the line of cliffs conjours up Masca and beyond Some hardy souls swim from Teno to Los Gigantes in the Travesia race once a year. However you view this corner of Isla Bajo, it always stirs a new respect for nature.
Mount Teide rising through a cushion of cloud, seemed to be admiring the cascade of neat houses on the terraced green slopes of the north east coast. Must be my stop, I thought, after letting the Titsa bus take me below and beyond my previous samplings of El Sauzal town. The tight modern road revealed plants and trees bursting forth from every rocky crevice. It´s a thirst for life, shared by the locals of the Tenerife municipality, especially as they geared up for three big religious fiestas.
My upward walk back into the heart of El Sauzal was a constant battle between the blue and green for my attention. Flowers, a knarled tree trunk, and even seed pods got into the act. The Parque de Los Lavaderos looks more impressive with every visit, this time, June heat brought a myriad of pond insects in the old washing area that lends its name to the park. Some had evolved into red and blue dragon flies that skipped across the surface of the pools.
Up near the church of San Pedro Apostol, the tower was decked outfor the patron saints (St Peter) three day fiesta, Santa Cruz de Ravelo, from 22 to 26 July, and Our Lady of Los Angeles on 2 August, The wooden peacock Luis Stinga was stunning as always, framed by seasonal blooms as it marched up the steps of the town hall. Even smaller touches made a big impression, the street signs of El Sauzal have their own flourish. The wine coloured background making a subtle reminder of the municipality´s rich harvests of wine, often sampled at the Casa del Vino uphill beside the motorway linking Santa Cruz and Puerto de la Cruz.
Hermanos Toste are legendary firework experts who paint the skies like a huge canvas, the Los Realejos based company would be busy over the next few months plying their trade at fiestas across the Canary Islands. Specialist safety was also being deployed in El Sauzal for their celebrations, the posters outline some very precise guide lines including advance tickets for all performance areas, and even a check list for pet owners to ensure no undue stress. Music drifted across from a sound system trail as I sipped my coffee outside the Cafe La Avenida as I waited for my return bus. Once again it was clear I had only scratched the surface of the municipality, but seeds had been sown for my next return.
All tight sinews and seductive promise. Not quite what I expected when answering the motorway sign invite to “Visit La Victoria de Acentejo” in the north west of Tenerife. There were plenty more surprises to come in this natural treat of a municipality that packed an historical punch.
Just a few minutes after getting off the Titsa 101 bus from La Orotava, I was face to expressive face with Evolution, a metal sculpture from Julio Nieto, a Vizcaya born artist who settled in Tenerife in 1986 and has stopped me in my tracks before with his bold, attention grabbing work.
The wild sea drew the attention as the road rises just above the motorway and wild coast beyond. That was just the access, the best goodies were stacked inland. The steep incline from my arrival unveiled wider views of green hills rising to meet the shyline. Evolution was in a prime elevated position, on one side a modern sports centre sat below walking trails up into the barrancos (ravines), but my eye was caught by the church tower, a more elaborate version of a popular Tenerife theme.
If I was being reeled in, I wasn´t complaining, the church led onto the Ayuntamiento (council) building for the municipality of La Victoria. An under staed blue, and dark wood combination stood alongside a large plaza and gave me a wonderul view of a two stage towering pine tree. At the foot of the dominating tree, a carved stone provided me with a history lesson of historic resistance.
When the conquistadors from mainland Spain were invading the Canary Islands at the end of 1495, they met stiff resistance from the Guanche natives. Yhe north west provided the last pocket of defiance and Fernandez of Lugo was held at bay in Acentejo as the locals prevailed on 26 December 1495, and he had to draft over reinforcements from Gran Canaria before his troops could push on to the final vicrory in Los Realejos in the new year. The sturdy pine tree is a monument to that La Victoria stand.
There are always pointers to the life and community involvement of any town. An upcoming early Sunday clean up and walk in the Barranco Hondo caught my eye on a poster. Mentions of wine, pottery, and chestnuts filled in some more background. A poster for a second competition of historic photos of the municipality hinted at a well supported earlier contest. Even on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, the town centre and main shopping street had a good choice of bars and cafes to tempt me. La Matanza de Acentejo, takes over at the end of La Victoria, I will have to return to see what they can add to the mix.
Not so much a fork in the road, more like a full set of cutlery. Contradicting signs on the track down from San Miguel Arcangel church demanded a return visit to descend to Aldea Blanca, not far from Las Chafiras in the south of Tenerife.
Mix and match seemed a good idea so this time I started from the La Centinela mirador (viewpoint) high above Valle San Lorenzo in Arona. Volcanic cones popped up on the lower horizon but sadly the La Centinela restaurant with its panoramic views had been closed for several years. At least the wooden cross above it stood firm as a rough dividing line between the municipalities of Arona and San Miguel, as well as a hard work destination to carry the statue of the Virgin for the top spot on the annual fiesta.
The downward trail into the bowl of the valley showed off some great natural features., Wild ferns and grasses popped up between stacks of cracked stones, crop terraces clung to hills, and a stone viaduct bridged a plunging ravine. Above all this, the modern road curved along with the fragmented El Roque standing guard over the drop below. The big attractions to settlers and travellers were two old springs for drinking and washing, most of the water now stays below ground, leaving the eroded concreye troughs a little green and mossy.
A steep concrete ramp led up to the restored Caserio de la Hoya and a recent dipping tarmac road . Another sign for Aldea Blanca pointed down to where I had just come from, and looking up, I could see the previous dual dilema from the earlier walk. This time my aim was true, and was rewarded with the sight of a classic two tier tile kiln. The road had no pavement but soon delivered the encouraging view of a football ground below, it had to be the Aldea Blanca pitch. Other tell tale signs were the distant buildings of Las Chafiras and the turrets of the modern breeze block castle, built for Medieval Banquet shows – but even bold knights are on hold for Covid for now.
Let´s not leave San Miguel as a bit part player in this walking saga, The walk from San Miguel church is an exceptional uncovering of layers of building history. Great designs, well looked after, and with in depth history panels in a range of languages. With friends on the original trip we took the top path at the identical signs and reached the gurgling water channels before the path faded. Including La Centinela and Aldea Blanca as options make the area even more tempting and well worth the effort.
After about 30 minutes of walking down the tarmac road from the tile kiln, the tightly packed dwellings of the hamlet of Aldea Blanca opened up to reveal the dainty plaza and church showing pride in the 500 year history. Beyond this point there were a good selection of cafes and bars and a relaxed, sedate atmosphere. A wide, overgrown water source offered more possible answers to the confused sign posts. It promised upcoming work on theree barrancos (ravines) although there was no date on this intention. There are a few bus links through Aldea Blanca and a short divertion leads to Buzanada with a busier Titsa bus service. I took the longer route out through Las Chafiras to the motorway and a wider choice of buses.
Refusing to be upstaged by a red mountain overlooking a surfers paradise, Montaña Pelada is well worth the wander to the east of El Medano. Where else can you experience a flattened volcanic cone born out of an epic tussle between red hot magma and the deep cold sea. Even a gallery of misfit neighbours can´t reduce the impact of nature.
Taking the wooden boardwalk around the headland to Playa del Cabezo, we passed the concrete look out bunkers and the Hotel Arenas del Mar. Veering off we answered the lure of the Playa de la Pelada with its secluded cove of dark sand. There was plenty of contrast from the yellow tinted base of the mountain, and the sea had sculpted big rocks into altars for the less shy sun worshippers to sit astride and bare all.
Going for a more frontal assault on the crater, we crossed pock marked rock and ash like earth deposits. The diversity of the ground called for maximum attention, the wider circular track would have been a far easier ascent. Even in the throes of a calima dust cloud, we could pick out an old satellite station down below, all rusted with age. Hitting the plateau we caught our breath. A dep rumbling, a metallic shimmer, and a burst of power proceeded the take off of a large plane from Tenerife South airport. A rare sight in these Covid restricted travel days.
Following the marked path around the edge of the crater, we took in more small coves below, linked upwards by more slender tracks. ITER renewable energy centre boasted an array of wind turbines and a field of solar panels. Next to them, Granada portdwarfed the oil rig and Africa Mercy ship, both looking forlorn and abandoned in the seldom used modern addition to the coast. The sandy coves were quite remote but had a steady stream of visitors, some popping in on jet skis.
Completing a circle of the crater we tried a couple of unmarked steep descents rather than the far path that fed of the marked area. It was quite testing but brought us down by a small ravine that guided us back to the entrance point. It was good to get a different viewpoint on the south east coast and it was rounded off with self indulgent paddling along the shore of the La Jaquita beach.
“Don´t go changing to try to please me…” crooned the singer. maybe Billy or Barry had Playa San Marcos in mind. First glimpses from the corkscrew road down revealed the ingredients of most peoples Tenerife dream setting. Driven by a noble quest for self improvement, Icod de Los Vinos has tried several times to extend the black sand and pebble beach and reclaim more coast under the embracing cliffs.
As on previous visits, the strongly pulsing tide, mix of old houses and refurbished apartment blocks, and neat fishing port, had my full attention. Mount Teide´s summit was the snowy icing on the cake. An hourly bus link with Icod station unlocked this part of Tenerife´s north west coast. I shadowed the tight road down under the motorway, making sure not to step back too far when squeezing into the side of the road to avoid oncoming traffic. I could have taken a liquid break at a nice cafe hiding under the bridge but was enjoying the slowly revealing stretch of the coast along to Garachico and beyond. Square fields of crops and a rogh stone bridge, worthy of a troll and a billy goat, kept me alert. Clouds of pigeons erupted now and then from a leafy ravine, my eyes were on constant alert so not to miss any of natures show.
The Paseo Maritimo walkway above the beach was getting a big facelift with white pergolas leading to the small church, and cafe terraces. Further around the Avenida Maritimo boasted shops and a chemists. The beach is well attended by life guards, and also offers limited mobility access.. It was clear that the beach was used to being ravaged by the sea from time to time, a few long waves were bowling in to stop the sun bathersw from nodding off. Big swells were also sweeping over the fishing port wall as I took the stone steps up to the headland a bit further back.
Looking along the coast beyond the bay, there were no easy points for gentle swimming, that puts places on the small beach at a premium, even if you have to fight for elbow room at Mother Natures table. Everything about Playa San Marcos underlines its determination to stake a claim at this point of the coast. It´s well worth seeking out to appreciate why it has a special place in local hearts.
Flowing brush strokes and colours mixed with bold lines, and framed with a cheeky sense of humour. Tacoronte tweaked my interest as soon as I stepped off a 30 minute Titsa bus ride from Tenerife capital, Santa Cruz.
Two men have left a big influence on the town and municipality. As a surrealist artist, Oscar Dominguez would surely have approved of the quirky statue of him at the edge of his adopted home. A giant upright fish can was relocated to Tacoronte from nearby La Laguna, Oscars place of birth. Becoming a much sought after artist, Oscar later left to hang with the masters in France.
Oscar´s spirit still lingered at the large tree lined Plaza del Cristo. Long shadows and falling leaves reached out to the two towered Iglesia del Cristo church, and the pure white Convento de San Agustin next door. I wasn´t the only one enjoying the view. The statue of a young guitarist offered silent tribute to the Young Change Makers Of The World. The Ayuntamiento (council) building was low level and low key but a stylish timepiece added a little order to the day. Maybe it was counting down the time to St Valentines Day, the nearby Nuevo Esquina bar and cafe was loved up and making a relaxed vantage point for reflection and refreshment.
The cafe balcony echoed the roof rails of Casa Roja, now a funeral parlour, it´s design and colour did the town proud. The side road, Calle Sebastian Machado, referred to the Portuguese settler who founded Tacoronte in 1497. I felt a pull towards the Alhondiga, a granary built in 1685, endowed with great character by the passing of time and harsh weather. In modern times its look has been further boosted by modern artwork. The buiolding dipped down to meet the Calvario, home to the religious crosses, and also drew attention to the enticing Hamilton Park.
How green and splendid was the park, with its wine growing frames and stone semi circles to protect the young vines from the wind. The lush green grass and wild plants came with some leafy walks and a cacophony of bird song. Many locals were enjoying the celebrated wine of the area in cosy bars. An agricultural market at the other end of town was pulling in shoppers in the bowels of the old bus station.
Mesa del Mar, a popular rough coast spot for sea bathing, will tempt me back in the future. With El Sauzal a few stops along the bus route, there are rich rewards for my exploring days, Tacoronte dovetails nicely into this vibrant stretch of history and nature.
There´s no bonus points for elegance! That thought spurred us on as we scrambled up a tricky part of the La Caleta to El Puertito walk along the Adeje coast of Tenerife. Barely a dozen people on the shallow pebble beach of the little port, and just a few boats bobbing gently at the entry to the bay.
A far cry from the packed scenes on a hot summers day, it was a sign of the Covid times. The clear blue sea massaged our well worked leg muscles before cold beers quenched our thirsts at the nearby bar. We had started out among a few early birds speckled on the Playa de La Enramada beach sun loungers in La Caleta. Rising up beyond the fish restaurants, a kestrel swooped over a clump of cactus as we climbed the sandstone trail in the worn rock that headed along the cliff top. The table top mountain of Roque del Conde lurked inland and the hotel towers of Playa Paraiso looked deceptively near a few coves ahead of us.
A scattering of hippy huts used to be a familiar sight in the folds of the rocks but a recent deje council enforcement of the protected status of the area left just a few hints of the tons of rubbish and shacks. Sun worshippers lapped up the warmth of the day in secluded spots near the shore and a few walkers passed us coming from the west. We faced a few tough choices where the path thinned out. Patience and tentative foot holds saw us through.
Crumbling plantation walls harked back to early crop raising and a large stone clock face had my thoughts wavering between pizza and Dennis Wheatley black magic novels. After a couple of leisurely hours, stone steps down besides a private house led us onto a concrete balcony beholding El Puertito in its full glory. It was one of those moments that stops you in your tracks and makes the path pounding all worth while.
Turtles also enjoy the special qualities of the cove. In busier times boat trips deposit many scubs and snorkel enthusiasts to admire the placid creatures. Our swimming was closer to the shore and well timed as the tide was quickly eating away at the sand. Whether by foot or by car, El Puerto is not easy to reach. Passing the statue of the Virgen in its shrine, and the small church, we wound our way up the tight road out above the other side of the bay. They might have part paved paradise but there´s certainly no parking lots.
It was a long slog up past the ghostly quiet hotels with lots of longing gazes back to the beach. Playa Paraiso was the next bay along for food and buses, by then we were wondering if El Puertito had just been a dreamy mirage.
Smart, practical, and oh so stylish, traditional Canarian costumes are usually twirling to the music in celebration of fiestas. You can get a closer view and a taste of the history that surrounds them in the heart of Arona town at the Casa La Bodega winery. Just 10 kms uphill from beaches and night life, the past imprints itself proudly among buildings and fields that tell many a tale.
The church of San Antonio Abad held court in the plaza on a clear morning as I stepped off a Titsa bus from Los Cristianos. An ancient meets modern mural greeted me as it wrapped around the main street corner. To the west of the plaza, several walking routes attract many energetic disciples, but to the east a slight incline led to the old white and green winery, now converted to a time capsule of rural treasures.
The costumes were the latest stars. Lace up waist coats, hats, and neck coverings caught the eye. The footwear was elegant and sturdy, perfect to tap out an infectious beat. Even the under garments got a rare showing. The Prendas, Trajes, and Tipismo exhibition runs to Friday 12 February, Mondays and Weddnesdays 8 am to 6.30 pm, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday 8 am to 4 pm, and closed Saturday and Sunday. Entry to the Casa is free and other long term exhibits include, roseta needlework, Guanche rock carvings, and the history of famous Arona people and landmarks.
It all fired up my admiration of Arona, so I took in some more key sites like the El Calvario, where religious crosses are gathered together, the old casino, and plenty of buildings full of character. Add in some enticing cafes and bars. plus the views down to the coast and it all makes good reasons to make a visit at any time of year.