Archive for the 'Life' Category
Fun With A Six Pack In The Dorada Brewery

It had to be done, after years of dedicated research six of the Armada Sur booked up for the Dorada Sin Secretos brewery tour just above Santa Cruz. We met up in Los Cristianos for some last minute liquid research into our subject matter and caught the 110 direct Titsa bus to the capital.

I had thought we might have to scrum down for the bus but it was pretty empty so we were able to spread out at the back and enjoy the trip. Of course we had a quick chorus of Oasis Oasis as we passed our football watering hold half way up the motorway. Santa Cruz was warm and sunny with the Carnaval fair under construction down by the tram terminal. We hopped on and were whizzed up to the stop just past the brewery. With plenty of time in hand we adjourned to the Tasca La Antorcha just up the side road.

What a nice friendly bar it was, they thought we were workers from the brewery, we ordered a nice spread of tapas to go with our Dorada’s and emerged fully prepared. I did the tour about a year ago but was looking forward to another visit, our two guides Laura and Rebeca were rather lovely and very informative with Laura speaking excellent English picked up in Kent. After paying our 3 euros first up was a film about the history of the company, then we got kitted out in our high visibility jackets – no sneaking off for a crafty swim in the beer vats then. 

Into the cooking area and we were able to see how the brewing process works and see the malt, hops and yeast at work, the smell was delightful. Going up in the big elevator I couldn’t help thinking of Willy Wonka however this lift led to the packing plant we popped little plugs in our ears as the clinking of the bottles charging along the belts is very loud. It’s surprising to see how few staff are needed on the floor as the washing of bottles and crates is automatic. Next stop was the lab where they carry out quality control on the brews, we were fortunate to meet the boss who answered questions from us. Dorada has another plant in Las Palmas where the cans are filled while the bottles get the magic liquid here in Santa Cruz.

That left one last stop, the museum and tasting room, by now our taste buds were gagging for some beer. Of course our only motivation for doing the tour was educational so it was good to see the range of bottles, cans, and posters that had been used over the years, the new carnaval bottles are the latest addition. Would we like to sample the beer? Silly question, of course we did and had a couple of beers each to savour, it tasted even better with our added knowledge. We reluctantly said farewell to the ladies and caught the tram down into Santa Cruz for a quick walk through the city centre to the bus station. Arriving with 20 minutes to wait for our bus we visited the bar for a top up and then headed south for the football at The Merry Monk. What a perfect day.

Saturday Is The Time To Flock To Los Cristianos Beach

Have you ever been storked by a long legged bird? I reckon I might have been. It started as a fairly relaxed Saturday morning so I took my camera for a little wander down into Los Cristianos, stopping on the way to snap some weeds. They may be seen as weeds but growing wild on the waste land besides the pavement they had a certain charm and pleasing colours. I can’t really tell the difference, never ask me to tidy up your garden.

 

I’d done my energetic bit for the morning, my usual pool swim, but reaching the cultural centre I saw they had a stage set up and before I could say dance and thrust they had got a large crowd doing Zumba fitness. It was pretty frantic stuff and had a few drivers stretching their necks as they passed through this busy junction.

 

Anyway down by the old beach I noticed a large white bird on spindly legs pecking around on the sand. It didn’t seem that worried by the interest it was generating. Later in the day I sought advice from Steve Andrews AKA The Bard Of Ely, a man who knows nature well. His verdict was a White Stork which he insisted shouldn’t be in Tenerife. The internet reference he sent me struck a chord as it showed the bird roosting on top of Avila cathedral in mainland Spain. How strange, on the way back from an Armada Sur trip to Salamanca a few years ago to see CD Tenerife we stopped off there and I was fascinated by the feathered friends on high, maybe they didn’t like me taking their photos and are now after me. Research told me that they migrate from Africa to Europe but go far west or east to avoid the open sea as the air thermals they travel on are not created over water.

 

Back on track I had been tipped off that the new lifeguards were starting today so I went and had a word with them. There has been a long running saga with the previous guards, the service was franchised out by Arona council but when the company went bust the council washed their hands of any responsibility leaving the guards with no income. Despite being on strike they kept a presence on the beach for over a year before the council had them thrown off recently. All pretty disgraceful but the new Catalan company has employed local staff to provide a reduced service. The new guards had no say in the previous mess and as a regular Las Vistas swimmer I’m very glad to see them arrive. Just watch your backs boys and double check your wages.

 

The early sun must have been stronger than I thought, I was having visions, I saw a bevy of lovely ladies playing beach volleyball. Then I recognized a coach I had interviewed in the past, it was a gathering of international teams from Spain (pic with visors) Austria, Switzerland, and Holland. Los Cristianos is a regular training spot for most European teams, male and female and the ladies very kindly posed and let me do interviews for The Tenerife Weekly.

 

I love the unpredictability of Tenerife, there is always so much going on. This could  be a slightly liquid week as my mate Neal is popping over, the Dorada brewery tour is just one of the highlights to brace myself for so if the blog is a little delayed at times this week forgive me, it’s just the  beer – unless the stork swoops down and carries me off. 

 

 

 

Shtandart Offers A Different Life On The Tenerife Waves

It may have been a dummy load but the explosion and smoke from the canon of the Shtandart triple mast frigate felt real enough as the bundle of spare rope was propelled two miles across the sea. Our barefoot Captain Vladimir Martus chuckled at our reactions, it’s all part of the daily life for him and his regular crew of seven, usually boosted by up to 30 trainees.

The creak of the ropes and pulleys, and the lap of the water against the ship was more than I had hoped for when popping to San Miguel marina for an on board tour. As the crew and guests were about to depart I was hauled aboard for a six hour voyage out past Costa del Silencio, Las Galletas, and Palm Mar. The ship is a beauty, built in 1999 in St Petersburg it’s a replica of a 1705 original built for Czar Peter. The oak body, larch planks, and pine masts, tallest 33 metres, stretch to 34.5 metres long and 6.95 metres wide.

As we swept out of the marina the well drilled young crew sprang into action hauling ropes and lowering the vast 660 square metres of sail. As the sails billowed with the captured wind it felt like I had been transported to another age, the sea was fairly calm and a firm turn of the wheel put us on a steady course. This seemed a good time to find out more from the 47 year old captain.

“I took to the sea at 14 in St Petersburg, did some wind surf racing and got interested in replica tall mast ships, traveling as far as the Baltic Sea and round the Cape. This is the furthest west I have been, we spent most of winter in Holland then Bilbao and down to Lanzarote and Fuerteventura.”

It’s not just the look of the ship that is a replica, they used traditional timber and basic old fashioned carpentry skills with Vladimir leading the way. “I cut down some trees in Russia and Holland, it’s not easy to find the right materials. We do all the repairs on board and teach the crew and volunteer trainees to learn a range of skills from setting the sails to learning to tie all the ropes and steer the ship. It’s all about helping people to mature and become better people.”

He wasn’t kidding on those ropes, besides the spaghetti junction of ropes on deck I peeped into the storage area and there was enough to confuse a troop of boy scouts. The sleeping quarters are best described as minimalist with hammocks slung up in any spare corners. There was also a party of four German journeymen carpenters on board, they tour Europe exchanging their skills for travel and accommodation and had been busy renewing planks and adding new tar to fill gaps.

Maybe I have seen too many sea faring swashbuckler movies but firing the canon was a highlight for me. Rolling the 6 pounder (3 kilo) canon into place by the small porthole a member of the crew lit the gunpowder fuse and kaboom off it went. Apparently in the old days a one kilo load in a canvas bag was so volatile no one was allowed any metal when they went in the storage area, even a spark from a key could blow them sky high.

At a suitable distance out there was more frantic sail setting and we took a break down in the galley where a fine spread awaited us complete with tots of rum. Back up on deck the sails were furled away and the two engines kicked in for a slow journey home. Whales and dolphins danced in the water ahead of us and curious pleasure craft came up close to check us out. It was a great experience and a pleasure to meet such a friendly and dedicated crew. Shtandart is taking on paying trainees for a series of cruises based from the Canary Islands, to find out more check the website www.shtandart.ru\en  

 

Saddled Up For San Sebastian At La Caleta

Church bells ringing, paella cooking, and wine pouring into glasses, what a wonderful way to start a special celebration. The fiesta of San Sebastian is dedicated to the animals and a full paddock of horses were grabbing what rest they could under thee shade of the trees as young and old alike stroked them and posed for photos.

The buses into La Caleta were crammed full like cattle trucks as thousands flocked to one of Tenerife’s most popular celebrations. The church doors were flung open and the noon Holy Mass was being conducted with the dedicated faithful inside and many curious visitors straining at the doors with cameras, phones, and I Pads. Down below a large open air showground was brimming with stalls selling traditional food and drink alongside American inspired cartoon character merchandise. A sea of tables groaned under the weight of baked potatoes, sweet almonds, beer, and more wine.

There was no real hurry to get the parade of horses underway so I had a good stroll around, despite gray clouds over the Adeje hills the sun was blazing down and the shaded outside of the church was a popular place to gather, All around the building groups gathered together as old Canarian songs were sung while small guitars and timple were plucked. Meat sizzled on the hot plates before tasty salsa sauces were added, pancakes were filled with sweet fruity fillings, and you guessed it, more beer and wine was added to the mix.

As the church service drew to a close, horses were untethered and ridden out to the sealed off main road. All sizes and ages were mounted as hooves clip clopped along the tarmac at a sedate canter. Falling into a rough formation, the runners and riders were finally allowed to saunter down the side road, past the five star hotels where people were hanging onto every possible viewpoint, and down the path to the beach. Police and security kept a wide opening for the animals and once on the sand they broke into a faster trot as they headed to the shore. The sea was a bit livelier than usual so some of the horses pawed cautiously at the rolling waves before risking a deeper wander.

The best vantage points had been quickly grabbed and the large mound was peppered with people, some perched in quite precarious positions. As the horses frolicked in the water loud rockets were let off but it hardly registered with the horses, they were having too much fun. I did well not to get soaked feet or something nice for the roses on my trainers. It was noticeable there were more ladies taking their charges for a dip this year and most of the riders were recording their own snippets of photos and video on phones and cameras.

Considering the huge swell of people on La Enramada beach it was impressive how smoothly it all went off and as the procession of horses filed back up to the main square the crowd dissolved away either to enjoy more music, food, and dance or like myself to disperse to other parts of the island. It’s a few years since I last took in the San Sebastian spectacle but the magic is still there and it was good to see new generations of Canarians passing on the appreciation of the historic partnership between the land, the workers, and the animals. 

Sand Bags, Floods, And Beer In Oxford

They promised me rain and guess what I got, yep buckets full of the stuff. I suppose I was lucky, as I returned to my home city of Oxford the advertising placards for The Oxford Mail proclaimed that the flooded roads were now re-open, a trifle premature judging by the skies.

Anyway this was a whirlwind five day trip to chase more legal loose ends and to see my mum on her 78th birthday, of course there was time to squeeze in a few pubs and to meet up with some old friends. The smiling sunshine logo against Birmingham on the destination board in Tenerife airport didn’t give me any false ideas, the 6 degree temperature reading didn’t lie and as I walked from the plane into Brum arrivals the chill nearly cut me in half.

I had only booked an inward flight so was going to get a one way train ticket to Oxford but as a return only costs 50 p more I got one in case I passed once more through the land of Villa, M & B beer, and seedy ice rinks. On the platform I met a couple from Banbury who had flown in from Gran Canaria, I just about persuaded them to give Tenerife a go next holiday. Oxford was cold but the pubs were warming, as I supped a few en route to my Headington guest house. Tuesday saw my mad dash get underway, the roads to Wantage and my mums care home were surprisingly unaffected by the rising water level. Back at Headington Co-Op Travel I also managed to book a return flight from Luton and supped some superb Plum Stout in town after doing my mums birthday shopping. Pre armed with an advised list I even negotiated my way around the ladies undies department in BHS, well it gave me the excuse to ask a young lady assistant to show me around her knickers.

Reading the local paper provided me with a few chuckles, the Scales of Justice section included small misdemeanors and punishments, many had to pay a victims compensation fine, strange that one offence was for fishing without a licence – so who was the compensation for – the fish? Wednesday was an interesting night in town, at The Far From The Madding Crowd students were doing their Dungeons and Dragons card games – very odd, and a chap dressed as a woman stood out like a sore thumb in a group of very serious ale drinkers. Then at The Chequers a larey young couple tried to have a very loud and potentially violent domestic – those Rock And Roll Woodbines had definitely played a part. The staff were spot on and got rid of them before they reached meltdown, I adjourned to The St Aldates Tavern, formerly my old haunt The Hobgoblin, it was great to see it back on top form with a good range of ales and lots of customers.

For my last night I met up with a couple of old Co-Op work friends at The George and Dragon in Hanborough, nice pub, nice beer and nice friends. Dropped off back in Headington I squeezed a few more beers down at The White Horse but was still up bright and early to start my trek back to the sun. With a limited number of coaches to Luton airport I got there with three hours to kill, I was tempted to try to get a tshirt from the outside I Love Sausage food hut, I know a few ladies who would happily wear that cheeky message. The time passed smoothly and without their over priced beer and I whizzed through Reina Sofia airport to find a Titsa bus waiting for me, a couple of Dorada’s and a meal later I was back in Kirby Towers. Thanks Oxford, always good to see you, hope the floods drain away soon. 

 

Sunshine And Shovels After The Tenerife Storms

Coming from a country where two days of sun is a drought and a flake of snow can wipe out public transport, Tenerife always impresses me with its resilience. Being a mere volcanic spec in the Atlantic we are bound to get some bad weather now and then and thunder, lightning, and industrial amounts of rain have swept across the western Canary Islands this last week.

It’s tough to suddenly switch the relaxed sun and beach mind set to caution and care and not helped when the rumour mongers inject a bit of panic. The Tenerife and Canary Islands governments are pretty clued up these days and use social media to keep people up to date with the changing situation. At local level the Arona council that covers my Los Cristianos home made sure everyone knew about the very heavy rain, and high winds that AEMET, the Met Office, had predicted, they even had warnings on the palm trees. The storm broke a little later than expected but it was full of rage as thunder pounded the air and lightning split the skies. Thankfully down my way the winds of up to 90 km per hour didn’t come with it but it was still wild enough.

The Titsa public bus service managed to run pretty near a full service over the two worst days and even the inter island ferries made most of their runs. While keeping up with this the government and emergency services had to take time out to deny rumours of a mass evening power shut down and also a Spanish digital newspaper claimed a category three hurricane was heading in and the government was covering it up. Time proved how silly those two little gems were but they could have caused quite a panic.

Anyway morning arrived and the thunder and lightning had faded and the torrential rain gradually morphed into cloud and then sunshine. During the previous days lull in the storm the councils clean up brigade had made one aborted attempt to clear the road outside my block, dirt and rocks had formed large ridges down the centre and sides and a large pool of debris at the roundabout. With the rain finally fizzling out the team were back to dig in and remove tons of rubble. A walk down to the coast produced a similar story, dirty rivers of rain had cut a swathe through the sand at the old Los Cristianos beach and that was already being cleaned up and raked flat again. Piles of washed down rubbish and trees were collected together for removal and the tractors graded the sand further along.

It was as always a brilliant effort by all concerned and from what I hear it has been mirrored at other points around the island. I have always found it annoying that high earners justify each others inflated wages saying you need to pay big money to get the right people – somehow it never applies to those lower down the pecking order. For me the cleaners, road menders, gardeners and others that ensure Tenerife always shows its best face are a special breed worthy of the highest praise. Every fiesta, every public holiday, and every extraordinary weather day they are straight into action to get the island back to its best. Good riddance to the storm, welcome back to he sun, and a massive thank you to the people who mopped up after natures little party. 

Siam Park, My How You’ve Grown

Stood at the top of the unfinished Tower Of Power on a Monday morning the day after a Dorada and CD Tenerife evening it looked a long way down. Now five years later it has launched many more than a thousand hips down the water slide, but not mine. It’s nice to pop back now and then to see the continued development of Siam Park, with Christmas and New Year coming it’s gonna get plenty of visitors, see how it measured up on my latest visit here.

It’s not just about water rides and thrills and spills, the first of the Beach Volleyball tournaments up at the amphitheatre was a cracker, and not just because of the yummy cheerleaders. Since then it has also housed late night dance music events, martial arts contests, and even Mitch Winehouse (Amy’s singing taxi driver Dad) crooning.

The large beach is a big draw for corporate events and presentations, the last one I covered was hard work, all that nibbling snacks and tasting Mojitos – I think I might get funny looks from the other Armada Sur members if I swapped  my pre footie beers for a big fruity bowl of iced Mojito – I could always save that for promotion night. It was of course a Siam Park open top bus that was used for the Santa Cruz victory parade after the promotion to the Primera. That’s a hopeful note to end on.

A Taste Of Winter As Tenerife Shines On

What is winter in Tenerife? It’s one of those days when a few dark clouds float around and I leave the beach for a bit of a wander. Las Galletas was calling with the promise of a coffee with the lovely Karen – who could refuse.

Streaming hot sunshine broke through as I headed down the hill into Los Cristianos, looking west to Roque del Conde it was all clear but further inland a few of the grey clouds huddled together to discuss events of the day. The big downpour the other weekend had certainly perked the flowers and plants up and topped up the reservoirs. The short bus trip to Las Galletas delivered me into a short passing shower, quite refreshing, the beach still had a scattering of people and the restaurants of Marina del Sur were busy as King Neptune stood guard with his shell guarding his modesty. I met Karen and we took a stroll out onto the marina walkway, the tide was low but plenty of boats were bobbing in the water.

Back along the promenade the bars were busy and onto the edge of the shopping area we found a nice spot for coffee in the full glare of the sun. Cutting through to Costa del Silencio the bathing statues made me laugh, I normally see them from the bus and poured scorn on Karen’s suggestion that they move around – too much strong cheese I thought. As we past by again the stoney faced bathers began their slow aquatic dance as water sloshed over the side of their pool, my chuckle muscles were in overdrive.

I grabbed a bus back to Los Cristianos with the late afternoon sun restored to its best and headed home, the newly planted poinsettias on my complex were a blaze of colour and a reminder that Christmas is racing in – aah mince pies in paradise, can’t beat it.

 

Catching Up On Business And Pleasure In Sun Soaked Oxford

It will never match the late great Alan Whicker but my own modest tour back to blighty began with a smooth early Ryanair flight into Bournemouth International Airport and I was impressed that the Red Arrows were parked up to greet me – well maybe they were actually there for a series of nearby shows. The sun was glorious, my return train ticket wasn’t as horrendous as expected and I even managed to grab a bit of food on the way through – my mood was relaxed and matching the weather.

At my age I’m allowed to have the odd grumpy moment and this latest was sponsored by Cross Country trains. I had brought my netbook with me and looked forward to doing a little work on the train in the WI-Fi carriage but was shocked to find out it wasn’t free, so if you go in a café or pub and have a drink you can get free Wi-Fi but if you pay 54 pounds for a return train ticket you have to fork out extra for the wibbly wobbly web – not impressed.

Anyway hitting Oxford the memories came flooding back as I dived into my task of pulling together the last (hopefully) bits of the aftermath of my Dads death three years ago. Several fruitful calls later I was in town and deserving a drink, it was fairly quiet, most people had headed for river side pubs but I visited a few old haunts trying to avoid the light summer ales and picking the darker brews. The old Gloucester Arms has been stripped back from a rockers paradise to a boring place with no atmosphere called The White Rabbit. As luck would have it The Chequers in High Street had a beer festival on for a month, 60 ales and cider with a free pint after every five bought. The dark brooding pint in the photo is a Copper Dragon from Skipton – very nice.

My second day was a whirlwind of office calls and visits, my mum eventually recognized me at the care home in the beautiful Wantage countryside but she is oblivious to most of what’s going on – I manage that state sometimes but only with liquid help. I had a quick look around Christ Church college grounds, Oxford is stunningly beautiful especially in the sun and it was nice to see so many delightful young ladies enjoying the weather and flashing the flesh.

One of my big tasks was to organise  the clearing of my parents house, this has only recently been added to the legal hoops I have to jump through for the pleasure of finally signing my old home over to an Equity Release company. I met a bloke from a local firm outside the house to give me a quote, putting  the key in the lock was a weird feeling as I braced myself for a wave of emotions. I thought a stampede of animals would rush out like in Jumanji but it was in surprisingly good condition. I scooped up as much as I could off the huge stack of post and later sat outside a pub as I opened all the envelopes, mostly advertising junk (Mr Branson was particularly keen to offer my parents broadband). The TV licence people want my Dad in court and Southern Electric have been sending ever spiraling assessed bills although the power has long ceased flowing – a few emails will sort them all out.

At least I had an evening treat to look forward to, catching up with an old Ice Hockey friend Andrew Hall at his pub The Rose and Crown – a pleasant evening of beer and wobbling down memory lane closed the day nicely. I’m missing my daily swims but Oxford has a temporary beach outside The Swan & Castle at the old prison shopping complex – complete with Punch and Judy. Let’s see what else Oxford has to offer.

Armada Sur Have A Flaming Good Celebration

The burgers, chops, chicken and sausage had that extra ingredient at this years Armada Sur barbecue – it was success. Promotion after a great season for CD Tenerife had to be celebrated in style and Cho Pancho high above San Miguel was the perfect setting for the annual fun and games.

It was a scorching hot day but the shade of the pine trees and a welcome breeze ensured things didn’t get too uncomfortable – unless you were a Pio of course. In time honoured tradition a large stuffed Tweety (symbol of our nearest and dearest from the other island) was abused, trussed up, and hung over the barbecue flames until it died horribly with its stuffing spurting out.

Two large wheely bins were packed with ice and cans of beer which we worked steadily through during the afternoon, there was plenty of wine for the ladies too and soft drinks for the younger generation. The cricket match didn’t quite get into full swing this year but the football was full bloodied and bruising, several players will have the marks to remember it by.

For anyone not familiar with the picnic areas in Tenerife, they are large, well looked after, and with brick built barbecue stacks to cook on, at Cho Pancho there is a toilet and washing block nearby and pick up points for the rubbish which we dutifully collected together before leaving. Our coach dropped us off and picked up at the end of the service road, some hitched rides down in cars but most of us walked, it’s a pleasure in such beautiful surroundings.

Full marks to The General and his troops for getting there early, setting everything up, and firing up the charcoal. The ladies did us proud with potato salad, pasta, and Kirsty’s wicked mojo sauce that could strip paint of a tank. I’m sure the people at the surrounding barbecues enjoyed our boistrous singing, it certainly made the lizards scuttle under cover. Roll on next year.

Despite being well loaded with beer I managed to drag myself back out at night and down to Los Cristianos for the Noche de San Juan, the traditional bonfires on the beaches way of marking mid summer. It was packed down there, the bars and restaurants can only dream of it being that busy in the daytime. I had a little wander over the sand to see some of the fires and see who was jumping the flames, another tradition, I wisely didn’t attempt any acrobatics and settled for a couple of pints at Goodfellas on the promenade as I watched the scantily clad young ladies wander by. I left at 1am but I’m sure the fun went on until daybreak, it always does, it was a nice hazy end to a very enjoyable day.