Come on how many capital cities can you go to and be confronted by a huge babies head at the entrance of a public park. Take a bow Santa Cruz, this bronze sculpture Carmen Dormida (Carmen Sleeping) by Antonio Lopez and it is rather haunting and worrying in equal measures.

The sculpture at Parque Garcia Sanabria is on loan from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts until 30 May and if everyone who had their photo taken with it put a euro in a bucket the city would be rich in money but suffering a bucket drought. I couldn’t help wondering if there is another sculpture somewhere of a mother with a very pained cross eyed expression on her face.

I always pop into Parque Garcia Sanabria anyway as it is very beautiful and often contains some unusual activity. The floral clock is always another popular focal point but it is away for repairs at the moment, the replacement flower display was marking time in fine fashion. It wasn’t meant to be an artistic visit, just a bit of mooching around but all the statues and sculptures seemed to catch my eye. The lions on the General Serrador bridge over Barranco de Santos normally purr away in peace but I felt the need to snap them today.

There was a chilly wind blowing across Tenerife but the sun was out and away from the shade it was good, hardly any reason to wrap the trees up. Just behind the Plaza de España a recent art project saw local ladies crochet decorative sleeves for the saplings, this too was getting plenty of passing interest from the cruise liner passengers spilling into the city. The main harbour, or airport as our friends from Gran Canaria might call it, was fairly quiet today but the huge Mein Schiff liner made a colourful addition to the skyline.

There was a little sprinkling of rain at one point so I adjourned to a few central spots, the Parque Bulevar commercial centre has housed the Carnaval museum for the last two years but the costumes were nowhere to be seen and instead of wild Carnaval dance music it was The Communards song Small Town Boy entertaining the sparse trickling of shoppers. Further on past the Plaza del Patriotismo the balustrades of the Circulo de Amistad building made me cast my gaze upwards. Museums are great in Santa Cruz, I popped into the Museo de Bellas Artes (museum of fine arts), a strange mix of traditional and experimental.

The first floor had PSJM – A Cultural Decade 2003 to 2013, it was commercial images like cynical variations on corporate advertising and some video displays. The upper floor has several halls of Royal Academy portraits and huge religious scenes covering whole walls. These works are a permanent display, I recognized many of them from my last visit to the museum a few years ago. All good stuff and free entry, don’t go on a Monday as most of the big museums have that as their closed day. By now it was time to head back south but I will return soon and see what other surprises the city can offer me.

Technology hates me so it should have come as no surprise when the ticket machine at Bournemouth station wouldn’t let me in to get my advance ticket that I had bought on Paypal. Never mind, I had arrived in plenty of time partly due to my Ryanair flight shaving 45 minutes off its landing time. With my ticket rescued I arrived in Oxford mid afternoon to glorious sunshine tempered by a chilly breeze. The daffodils were bursting forth and the old canal and backwaters of the mill stream looked rather splendid.

It was St Patricks Day so the Oxford pubs were pushing the usual merchandise. An American student in The Chequers wearing a large Guiness hat was wishing everyone a great day but she then bought a bottle of San Miguel – mixed messages or what. It seeems the local council are still as bad as ever, the Covered market is a popular historic part of the city centre with loads of charm and character but the council are trying to hike their rents up by an extortionate amount. As a young spotty youth still at school I used to work weekends and holiday on a fruit and veg stall in the market, hard work but a good way to earn a few quid.Later I found some nice real ales and bumped into some old friends, a good, if long, first day back.

The British weather played a blinder for me, Oxford City had several home games rained off and had re-arranged Histon Town at home on Tuesday evening. The Cambridge area opponents were just above City in the relegation zone of the Conference North so a real six pointer. The league is now called Skrill North, I finally found out what they are, Skrill are another form of Paypal, but whatever you call it the Conference North is the highest level I have ever seen City compete in.

With Champions League action on TV and a wet windy pig of a night, only 203 turned up for the game but City came from behind to win 2-1, their first win since Boxing Day – I was well chuffed. A year ago an American businessman with unproven credentials, Thomas Gueniero moved in as President and co owner of the City, he was over from the States shaking hands and looking for babies to kiss like a TV preacher on heat. The bloke talks PR management speak and is trying to get several other Oxford sporting teams under his wing. My bullshit radar was bleeping off the scale and the next days article in The Oxford Mail did nothing to dispel my concerns over just what this chap is up to. The man says he will get City into the football league and the crowds will come – oh really.

Relegation still looks a strong possibility, at least City are leading the fair play table – doesn’t that get you into the Europa League these days? Anyway it couldn’t detract from my pleasure at seeing a win and I celebrated with a few beers in Headington afterwards.

Unlike my timing, Mother Nature was spot on for the Almond Blossom Walk in Santiago del Teide. White and pink blossom was bursting out everywhere, the lava fields were stark and rugged, the pine trees proud and majestic, and Mount Teide wore snowy highlight on the side that faced us. At the start and end of the five hour 9 km walk it was distinctly chilly but for the most part it was clear blue skies and hot sun.

Arriving at 8.30 am the church plaza was full of craft fair stalls and groups were already checking in for the short and long routes at staggered leaving times. When I last did the Almendro En Flor we went out around the road but this time the route cut straight  up into the rural landscape and my camera was already spoiled for choice. The click of hiking sticks mixed in with the peel of the church bells as we worked our way up to the resevoir. As I looked across to the Masca road the sun was warming my face and the shedding of layers had to begin.

The sheer amount of almond trees was staggering, most were in full bloom but plenty of buds were ready to add the next display. After just over an hour we took a break at Chinyero where Tenerife’s last volcanic eruption in 1909 was stopped in its tracks by the statue of the virgin from the church, now a wooden cross sits below the frozen crest of the lava wave and a small white shrine welcomes the annual pilgrimage. Now as well as beautiful flowers we had amazing rock formations to admire.

The pine trees and the peak of Teide took the views up to another level and we took our time to enjoy the bird song and kick our way through the fir cones like rugby balls. Whisps of cloud moved around us giving some relief from the heat and partly obscuring the views of Santiago del Teide in the distance. There was another mass resting point above Arguayo before we entered the final phase, it looked like I had paced my sarnies and water just right.

The final descent into Arguayo was one of the trickier pathways with shifting small rocks and then a tight corkscrew path down through the terraced fields laden with more almond trees. I could feel the pull on my leg muscles but that was more than compensated by the wonderful views. Once down in the quiet village of Arguayo we popped into the Museo Etnografico to see how the old skills were being preserved, then up to the sports hall and cultural centre to receive goodie bags with water and almond samples. The Ayuntamiento (council) mini buses shipped us back to our start just as the cloud and temperature dropped much lower and a little drizzle fell.

Top marks to Santiago del Teide ayuntamiento for their organisation and the El Cardon guides and Cruz Roja for looking after us. The blossom will be drawing the walkers for several weeks yet but even after it has blown away on the breeze there will be plenty of new sights to delight in, not only on the west coast but also throughout Tenerife.

As Eric Morecombe might have said, I am doing all the right events but not necessarily in the right order. There I was scrubbed, loaded with sarnies, wrapped in multiple layers against the cold early morning winds and stood in the church plaza at Santiago del Teide at 8.30am – alone. Yep, I arrived a week early for the Almond Blossom Walk.

A call from councilor Chicken Legs confirmed my eager error, I declined an offer of a lift, no day out in Tenerife is a waste so I resolved to make the most of my early start. It had already been rewarding, I love seeing Tenerife emerge from the night looking all fresh and reborn. All the local bars and restaurants have special almond menus so I adjourned to Bar Soto for a trucha (small sweet almond pasty) with hot chocolate, only 2 euros, it was yummy. Reading the local paper I saw the damage done in Los Gigantes by the high winds, thankfully superficial like broken windows and a few displaced hotel guests. Much of the island was untouched and the wind had dropped considerably a day later. I set off to walk down to Puerto Santiago on the Camino Real, an ancient track of around 8 kms.

It’s a walk I have done several times before but no two Tenerife walks are the same, weather, the season, and time of day add new twists. It was 9 am when I started and just 9 degrees, the recent rains had perked up the wild grass and added some moss to the stony path. Even at this lower end of the almond trail there were a good few trees showing a fine display of blossom, a little teaser for my main event next Saturday. The sun was breaking through and I started to shed layers into my knapsack, what a lovely crisp morning. About an hour in I passed a group of about six people walking up the route, they must have made an even earlier start. The goats were bleating from the fields and clanging their neck bells and birds were swooping and chirping.

Long shadows started to shorten and with the clear sky the temperature rose quickly, I thought the bed of the old ravine might have a little flowing water as I crossed it but there were just a couple of small pools, further down the reservoirs were brimming with their recent top ups – all good for the farmers. Local produce was all around me, banana plantations were bulging with large green hands wrapped in cellophane covers and trees were bending under the weight of ripe oranges.

Even with a few breaks to attack my food, I was coming out onto the main road above Puerto Santiago within two and a half hours and feeling very satisfied with a lovely walk. Heading into Los Gigantes I could see some of the wind damage like the missing tiles at the Stil Los Gigantes Hotel but the sun was blasting and the hotel pools were busy as always – normal service was resumed.

Taking the bus back south I stopped off at Callao Salvaje to try out the Sansibar Ajabo restaurant overlooking the recently revamped beach. The food  and setting were top notch and will appear soon in one of my online reviews. Arriving back in Los Cristianos it seemed an eternity from my 6am alarm but it was another cracking day and now I’m looking forward to the big walk with even more relish.

Any excuse for a stroll, with big waves battering some parts of Tenerife and a storm on the way in, I leapt through the window of opportunity to revisit my west coast roots. First stop was to have been Alcala but the weather was so gloriously sunny and the sea relatively well behaved so I hoped off he bus at Playa San Juan to take the coastal path.

The first surprise was work done to the corner entering the path, the two layers of natural terrace had gained some slatted wood walkways and a few guide rails and some people were taking full advantage of the natural sun trap. I had expected to find the sea lapping high up the rocks but it was just tickling them and posing for a few camera shots.

It’s a nice undulating pathway that shows off the rugged beauty of this part of the coast and half way to Alcala is the little hamlet of Fonsalia, the closes point in Tenerife to the island of La Gomera. Ever since I arrived 12 years ago there has been talk of a new ferry port at this point but work has only started recently and I was keen to see how it was progressing. Slowly is the word, the framework of a couple of buildings is creeping up but it looks many years away from resembling a port. I took the short detour through the one main street of Fonsalia and back down to the path through the building area, the workmen didn’t look unduly concerned.

There were plenty of other walkers enjoying the sun and the only slightly challenging way behind the rocky outcrops. Alcala soon came into view as the path became a small street giving a sneak peak over to the quayside. When I scribbled for The Western Sun our office was in a back street and I loved taking my lunch break down on the quay for a swim followed by sarnies. The sea has been calmed a little since then with a dyke under the water and plenty were sat down there with a dip on their minds, there were even a couple on the micro small Playa Arena with its bold missionary cross.

Walking through it was good to see the old tuna canning factory overlooking the quay now has a small bar and tables outside, they even advertise live Saturday night music. Following the promenade past the Palicio de Isora hotel brought me into the new modern extension of Alcala, much of the landscaping and children’s play areas were part of a trade off with the hotel and it looks good. The target of my visit was the newly revamped Playa Jaquita a bit further along, last visit it was still a work in progress but now it’s open and in use although still waiting showers, lifeguards etc. Top marks to the planners for combining three black sand coves with two rock pool areas, a good blend of nature and modern tourism.

Walking round to the main road I noticed several new shops and bars, Alcala is on the rise, I stopped for a drink and chat with an old friend at Sun Bean a fine example of converting a run down shop into a bright modern food and drink stop popular with visitors and locals. Satisfied I was leaving Alcala in good hands I caught the Titsa express bus back south pleased to have given my rotting trainers a good walking send off before they are humanely destroyed.

Self inflicted at least in part, Icod de Los Vinos gave a poor account of itself on my pre Christmas visit. Almost a year on to the day from a bustling main shopping street and plaza overlooking the Drago tree, the decorations were subdued, there was no piped carols from the speakers and plenty of empty restaurant tables. Maybe the fenced off, closed again Mariposario butterfly house, and the glaringly unfinished Drago visitors centre have something to do with the lack of tourists.

Even with that concern aside I still found plenty of ho ho ho on a wonderful days tour that started with the early bus to Icod from Playa de Las Americas. The weather was magnificent for my favourite route around the tight mountain roads above Tamaimo and Teide’s coating of snow added to my anticipation. The bus was running a tad late so my first choice of a quick transfer from Icod to Los Realejos fell away but deciding to walk down to Playa San Marcos I was soon rewarded with some great views. It’s years since I made the 2 km walk but I remembered the small margins to squeeze in as the occasional car went by, the crime scene stencils are a graphic reminder of the need for caution.

What a beautiful place Playa San Marcos is, looking over the small bay to the Garachico coast beyond was a sheer pleasure. They have had their problems with crumbling rock faces and lower down I could see the wire netting and pegging added for protection and a supply of large concrete blocks ready to further bolster the defences. The little beach was busy even though the encroaching tide was eating away at it and the clutch of restaurants were doing a decent early coffee and snack trade. The pocket church looked in good form with the doors flung open to encourage visitors and a walk up the far rock path gave me more inspiring views of the bay with Teide glinting down from above.

I cheated and got a bus back up the hill to Icod and set about a sweep through the streets and a quick nod towards the Drago tree. Underwhelmed by the general effort made I called my friends George and Ingrid at Artlandya and George nipped down to give me a lift back to their idyllic former finca in Santa Barbara, home to an amazing collection of 600 dolls and teddy bears, all looking smart especially the Christmas bear. Sat on the café terrace with the sun bright and the flowing gardens in their prime we had a nice catch up over some home made walnut cake, coffee, and beer. They are expecting a momentous arrival in February – no not that sort –something even more miraculous, the new ring road section from El Tanque. It’s all been a slow process but it looks nearly ready so hopefully the money won’t run out again.

My return lift to Icod was just in time for the bus to Tejina in Guia de Isora, although it was a little late out of the station as the nice young lady driver forgot to fill up with petrol. By now it was getting dark and chilly, I thought the jeans would prove their worth in the evening. An hour later I was in Tejina to see my old friend Kath at a local bar before heading on down south to Los Cristianos for a few cheeky beers. You can’t beat the traveling life in Tenerife.

You know pretty well what your getting each year with Christmas but it doesn’t stop you ripping open the parcels and Tenerife has a knack of adding a few twists to the well worn themes. It was lovely weather for a sleigh ride together (hot sun) but for the trip up to Santa Cruz I shared a Titsa bus with the lovely Karen.

Views of the extensive post storm snow on Mount Teide whizzed by and we were soon in the capital and on the tram to La Laguna. It was as always a few degrees cooler in the University town but the street decorations were tasteful and festive. First stop was the Casa de Los Capitanes, as well as housing the main Tourist Information office the courtyard always does a nice nativity spread with wise men and cattle but this year they also had a more concentrated belen in a side room. Sponsored by Caja Canarias it featured the walled city of Bethlehem with a thriving market place and the three wise men passing by the local traders.

Further along at Plaza del Cristo the indoor market was doing a good trade and the fish, meats, and cheeses were making my nose twitch like crazy. The cynic in me did find it amusing to see their mini nativity scene just next to a cash point machine, well gold, frankincense and myrrh are good but hard cash will do nicely. A spot of lunch and a tour took us to the Espacio de Arte Contemporaneo, its wild mural on a garage door always makes me laugh but the sculptures above were a new rib tickler and suitably shocking, it was clear what side of naughty or nice they had plumped for.

Time to catch the tram back down to Santa Cruz for more exploring. The first belen in Plaza de Candelaria was disappointing, normally an open manger scene with straw and donkeys they have opted for a sealed piece this year that looks more like a tomb. The information panels gave details about Nazareth in several languages but the charm has been lost in favour of functionality and security. The Cabildo HQ belen (top) was not as large as usual and just one sided instead of a walk around model but the detail was terrific and donations made by visitors are going to AMATE cancer charity.

The port is always worth a detour and the tell tale masts of a tall ship had already caught our interest. Passing the large semi erect (feel free to snigger) stage for the Christmas Day late classical concert we found the Alexander Von Humboldt moored up and some of the 41 paying crew checking the deck. It looked like my blagging had failed to get us an invite on board but a fellow CD Tenerife fan among the crew recognized me and we were given a hearty welcome. Several of these tall ships use Santa Cruz as a base for short trips with a crew learning new sea skills as they sail. There were also some spare crew in old fashioned uniforms milling about on the quay, the previous day they had been filming an advert for Becks beer – sadly no free rations were on offer.

Although based on a 150 year old square rigger this ship, the second to bear the name, was only built in 2011. The 24 sails van get it up to 14 knots but the 750 horse power engine is handy to have when the wind drops. They did well to miss the big storms and are just off for a weeks tour around the Canarian waters while the crew learn the ropes and other sea faring tasks in a big team building exercise.

Back on shore and in the heart of the city we sought out a new exhibition Artbelen 2013 at the La Recova Centro de Arte just behind the Teatro Guimera. It was lovely with some fantastic models made from recycled rubbish, well worth a look if you are up that way before it closes after 5 January. While in there I heard the dreaded pittter patter of heavy rain on the roof, thankfully it was just a brief downpour and we were able to walk to the CC Tres de Mayo shopping centre for a quick look around. I was tempted to leap off the balcony and onto the soft toy animals that were for hire, if only to liven up their bored assistant. Then I had a better idea, we caught the Titsa bus back south and rounded off the day with a couple of cheeky Dorada’s in The Merry Monk.   

Like Dick Whittington being lured back to London, I found events drawing me back to Santa Cruz just a week after my last visit. I would have been there anyway as CD Tenerife were at home but I went up early with a large tick list. Storms had been mentioned but my Titsa bus trip was coated in sunshine, it was only when I got off at Centro Comercial Meridiano that the rain started to splatter down even though the sun was fighting it for top billing. Forget the end of the world, the second coming, or an alien invasion, all those seem to have been bumped down the curiosity order by an insatiable thirst for the opening date of Santa Cruz Primark so I popped in and asked an expert – the security guard, March was the answer – but he didn’t say what year.

That short detour didn’t affect my bono ticket bonus of a free tram ride having just left a Titsa bus, so I took a short hop to La Paz to check out Cine Victor the 1954 cinema being nursed back to life. The front was still being painted but a few well researched bits of background information got me an invite inside for a tour. It was looking tired and sad last time I popped in but the facelift was going well with much of the original features being restored and matched with state of the art projector technology that will give it star billing again. The original projectors were on the way out, I bet they could tell a few stories – oh hang on that’s exactly what they did. I’m looking forward to seeing the finished picture very soon.

Back in the last dribbles of sunny rain I headed down La Rambla past the old derelict bull ring to see the long time resident Henry Moore sculpture, El Guerrero de Goslar, a curtain raiser to the art in the street exhibition in the centre of the city, the main focus of my early visit. The work reclines there with few pretensions but it was good to see it now free of graffiti. Further along the road linked up to Parque Garcia Sanabria and taking the busy shopping street Calle Castillo to Plaza Candelaria I found the first cluster of sculptures brought in from Berlin and Basingstoke until 1^st December and got snapping.

There was a lot of interest in the works of Castleford sculptor Henry Moore, Santa Cruz is very good at taking culture to the masses. I soon added the other large bronze works in Plaza Patriotismo to my collection before crossing from Plaza de Espana to the port road where the 39 vintage cars from Clasica Tenerife rally were parked up.

Another passing downpour gave the old motors a good sprinkling, well they had been spinning their wheels around the islands roads most of the day so maybe needed a little wash. The port is always worth a look, I have quite a big photo collection of the ships and boats that pop in so it was good to see two new captures, Celebrity Eclipse and the P & O Azura. These were like cities on the sea, Eclipse brought 2,800 passengers and 1,100 crew and Azura another 3,100 and 1,226, both were doing a Southampton to Canaries run via Funchal.

By now it was getting close to food and footie time so I grabbed a pizza somewhere I wouldn’t be subjected to the gathering ranks of fat cat bar stool football fans waiting to see two well known mega money Spanish teams get it on. I could almost taste the Dorada as I strode up the road to meet the other Armada Sur members at our pre match bar. A great day was just about to get a whole lot better.

You know it’s been a good day when you wake up with a strange nobbly citrus fruit in your pocket. Well it was a bit of a mixed up Sunday as I caught up with a non football visit to Santa Cruz.

It had to be an early start, which is fine by me as I got to see the sun stir itself and bathe Tenerife in its magnificent glow. From the twinkle of the sea to the shadow receding over Guimar it was shaping up for another belter of a day. My 110 direct Titsa bus to the capital was in such a perky mood it arrived in 45 minutes so with time in hand I had a mooch around and noticed the tram has a great new offer, 12 euros a week unlimited travel in the capital area for under 26 year olds. Damm those young people with their pop music and long hair – actually good luck to them, it’s just another reason I wish I was still young.

The Sunday market was in full swing just along from the bus station so I had a look around, it seemed to have spread out into more side roads since I last called in, maybe a sign of the tough times with people looking for cheaper goods. They really did have everything you could ever need, and lots of things you couldn’t imagine anyone wanting. With enough time frittered away I was off to my main call, the Palmetum botanic gardens built on a large landfill site and bristling with 1,400 different species of plants including an amazing collection of palm trees from around the world. I will post an in depth review soon but it was fantastic, great plants and new views over Santa Cruz plus plenty of dragon flies and a free guided tour for our party of 40 plus people. The strange citrus fruit was from some samples given to us from an Australian tree, Morinda Citrifolia,  we were assured they were edible but one I tried tasted very sour so my new nobbly friend can sit on my balcony for a few days before I taste again.

The two hours flew by, there was even a couple from California (hubby was a published expert on palm trees) who had booked the tour to coincide with their cruise ship docking in Santa Cruz. I wandered off to check out the port but apart from the giant cruise ship it was relatively quiet, the new lay out of Via Litoral does make it much easier to get into the heart of the city, on Friday 8 November the free Tenerife 40 Pop & Dance show will take place on the new public zone. Sunday is normally a quieter day in Santa Cruz but despite most shops being shut, the cafes around the lower end of Calle Castillo were buzzing and I also spotted several well wrapped sculptures, well they were too big to be cufflinks, ready for their unveiling, they are by Henry Moore the great British artist, I hope to show you the revealed masterpieces next week.

I had a good wander around, popping into Parque Garcia Sanabria and then clocking the ornate centre piece at Plaza Weyler, it looked good after last years scrub up. Heading down Calle Castillo I noticed a few shops had changed hands again and also spotted an interesting contrast of new and old in a few of the lower end buildings. I’m often stopped in my tracks by a surprise visual slap to my senses and a nice bit of graffiti art caught my eye in a side road. I’m guessing there’s a bit of a naughty nudge nudge moment going on and if you look closer you can see the traffic sign stand has also been painted to blend in.

Well that was about it for me, as always the visit left me with more reasons to call again and chase up some more bizarre points of interest. One last tweak of my curiosity came at the bus station when I noticed an emergency vending machine, I could understand plasters, ointments, and even condoms but couldn’t see why anyone would be desperate for the kiddies wash kit that included two yellow rubber ducks.

My kayak had a sense of humour, just when I thought I was on board it rolled over and shrugged me off. Well at least the sea just off Masca beach was warm and soothing and the sun was on top form. This was just the half way point on the charity challenge for Fundacion En Pie and their ongoing support for mental health issues in Tenerife.

It was only a few days before that I was asked to cover the Masca descent and kayak to Los Gigantes but once Silverpoint offered to pay my donation to take part I was soon excited by a more hands on role. I was given Friday night accommodation in a private apartment in Poblado Marinero, perfectly placed next to Los Gigantes marina. It brought back memories of living in the area when I first moved over and also a boozy holiday before that when I stayed in the same apartment block. I resisted the urge to go and explore old haunts and had a quiet meal at The Chicken Shack in Puerto Santiago.

Soon after waking on the big day I met the assembling group at a café on the marina. The sea was calm and the sun was kissing its way down the famous cliffs as a beautiful day dawned. On the taxi ride up to Masca village the road sides were already turning into make shift stands for Sunday’s Subida A Tamaimo uphill time rally. Masca was as glorious as ever and just over 40 of us set off down into the ravine. Despite living here for 12 years and doing regular walks I only added Masca to my list a few months ago. It’s a steep and testing route but so rewarding with outstanding landscapes that hark back to the birth of the islands. The walk is very popular but on this day it was particularly busy and we encountered many organized groups as we set a cracking pace with just one food stop.

It was noticeable that since July there was a bit more moisture around after some welcome rainfall up in the high mountains around Tenerife. Streams trickled and some rocks needed more caution due to wet feet passing ahead of us. In the deepest heart of the path the light and sound takes on a strange quality like it has been preserved in a time warp,that merely made it more enjoyable. My initial Masca walk took just over four hours with several hours but with barely two and a half gone the cliff sides were diverging and the trees thinning out as the sound of the waves filtered through. Breaking through we headed for the beach and a cooling dip before the second phase in the kayaks. Some people did both legs and some picked one or the other so while a few went back on the boat we got ourselves sorted.

I have never tried a kayak before and imagined them more hollowed out like a canoe but they were quite flat with moulded seating areas, some were solo and some doubles. The tethered group was brought close to the mooring point and we had to jump in the sea and haul ourselves aboard. When I sort of got on I had trouble telling which way I should face but  once lodged against the support strap with feet braced against the ridged floor I felt ready. They told me we would have a Zodiac with us – honestly when would I find the time to read my horoscope! then I realized that was one of the support boats. With plenty of encouragement from the experts El Cardon and Salitre I prodded the water and gradually got a rhythm with my paddle and dipping the oar on each side moved off with the convoy.

It was hard going but great fun, every now and then we bumped but there was a great spirit among the rowers and a determination not to get adrift of the pack. Rounding the first cliff face and seeing Los Gigantes way up ahead was a big boost, the cliffs look even bigger towering above from close to the water and even in the exposed sea it was lovely and warm. Dolphins abound in this area but I think they were hiding in a group having a good laugh at my cack handed rowing technique. About half way across I swapped to a two man kayak as one chap bailed out not feeling too good. I was at the front and now had to try to consider my poor partner, several times our oars clashed on my back stroke but we made good progress in the centre of the convoy. The last leg was very rewarding, as people waved from Los Gigantes beach as we turned in to the marina and moored up just in front of the bars. My shaky legs were glad to be on dry land and I was even more delighted to hear that there was a beer waiting in Rincon de Antonio.

Dripping all over the quayside we adjourned to the far side where the party was about to start, sponsors did us proud including a large bin full of iced Tropical and later a paella courtesy of Santiago del Teide Ayuntamiento. There was music and even a paragliding display as three pilots swooped down off the cliff top and landed expertly on the harbour wall with red smoke billowing around them. An alarmed local called the police thinking a paraglider had plunged into the sea so we had a surprise visit from the Guardia Civil and their helicopter – it’s good to know they are so quick to respond. The party was chilled, well there wasn’t much dancing in our legs, and the beer helped to numb the aches. I slipped away after a few hours for my journey back south, tired but very satisfied with a wonderful day.