A 460 metres drop from a modern concrete bridge gave me a tempting reminder of the Barranco La Orchilla ravine as it snaked its way down from Granadilla to San Miguel. It was a relatively cool June day as the Titsa bus delivered me further uphill to the basic Granadilla bus station from my Los Cristianos start. Now for the fun part as I retraced the bus wheels before begining a spiralling trek into the ravine,  pushing the bridge to the edge of my vision as my feet tried to be nimble among the loose stones and trailing ferns.

The top half of the walk was a split of modern concrete and an untamed growth of long grass and remains of cereal crops trailing away to the sun kissed coast of El Medano. Charco del Pino provided a delightful interuption as I walked up to the mirador view point behind the small church of San Luis Rey de Francia. The spread of stone dwellings and a steep walkway down to a smaller point of reflection over the largely unchanged views harked back to the importance of the Camino Real royal route that spread commerce between Granadilla and the south.

The barranco a few yards beyond was the big draw for me. A well worn path teased me along at a gentle descent before opening up to the steeper sides and  and uneven surfaces. Even the air seemed to change, warmer and full of the buzz of insects, many flies took a closer interest in me in small swarms – fair play as I was disturbing their world. Lichens are a big star in the Tenerife barrancos, clinging to precarious rocks in an array of green and yellow shades. Cochineal insects living on cactus plants put the Canary Islands on the rag trade map in the 19th century, secreting natural colour dyes, but lichens weren´t far behind and also boosted trade.

The small plant like life lichens clung to every rock and bush, and around me down in the bowl of the barranco. Their value has long been replaced with artificial colourings but they still live in happy retirement in the more remote areas of Canarian land. Cactus flowers speckled my progress down the steep side before I hit rock bottom where soft echoes of bird song added to the serene feel. Having done the walk before, my eyes soon found the outline of the upward trail to the lip of the ravine. This ascent brought its own challenges as powder dry earth filtered away under foot. Looking back from the other side of the track confirmed my appreciation of nature´s alluring mix.

Meanwhile up top, the modern road curled the long way through high sided rock faces which were drilled out mechanically in recent time of expansion in Tenerife. The barking of dogs told me that there were small farms at the top of the ravine side, rural areas still feature many variations on old pursuits. Cresting the hill, a choice of gravel tracks leading to the modern main road meant my feet would soon get some rest. The margins are tight for walkers using these driving routes so caution and agility are useful. Even in this final stretch there was another joy in the sculpted shape of hunting dogs, a fitting link to a still popular past time.

San Miguel was just a few more strides away with its choice of bars and cafes to quench the first from the two hour escapade. As always, it was a pleasure to dip into the heritage of Tenerife to discover how hard work propelled the local economy.

Less reliance on the big hotel chains, and more rural tourism is a popular call in Tenerife, but maybe some people think it means giving up their creature comforts. That seemed a laughable idea on my latest trek down from Ifonche, just below Vilaflor. Within a few strides along the path from the Titsa bus stop, I had spotted four restaurants, including a new offering, Finca Tres Roques, a short stroll from the track.

Hermano Pedro´s name was proudly linked to one of the eateries, as the Canary Islands only saint grew up in this area. A small chapel and fountain further ahead, underlined the links with the goat herder who took his healing mission to Guatamala in later life. Working fincas (farms) and a constant trickle of walkers weaved towards the three peaks of th volcanic mountains that dominate the region.

The landscape is mainly gentle on the feet but a large barranco just beyond the chapel called for nimble foot work to dip down and then seek decent foot holds on the upward bank of the ravine. A large private dwelling inland from my goat like scrambling showed how some properties have had modern make overs for the best of all worlds. This has always been a favourite walk of mine so I knew that the key was to aim up and past a neglected old house on the lip of the barranco.

As so often on these walks, a great effort was rewarded by the views as I sat on the edge of a threshing circle that panned across the three dominant peaks. A good place for a breather, water, and a feast for the eyes. Then the hardest part of the walk beckoned, skirting down and around a twisting path that opened up rewarding views of Roque del Conde, the peak that looks down on Los Cristianos, Arona, and Adeje.

Nearer to the lower slopes of Conde, the terracing of the fields showed how locals eeked out a living growning crops in this exposed area. At times the path offers choices, the mantra to remember is to progress with Conde to your right and move downwards away from the sea view. The finish point of Arona town began to loom up ahead but a tight, deep barranco called for more agile steps as I descended into the cool floor of the ravine. It was fairly quiet but birds were carrying on their day with little regard for this noisy interlooper. On past trips I have sen goats being herded up narrow paths and barbary partridge chicks getting parental guidance.

The walk took nearly four hours with plenty of rests and the final leg led past a small village and into the town of Arona with a couple of cafes and a bus link back down to Los Cristianos. Even on repeat visits, I always find new pleasures and refresh my thirst for the rural wonders of Tenerife.

Accessing the heights of nature and history, the small settlement of Las Vegas is not the only famous name associated with the higher end of Granadilla. Looking down from the compact church, Ermita de Nuestra Senora de La Esperanza (our lady of hope) the south east coast stretched from El Medano along to the wind turbines of Arico. Looking upwards, a cathedral of pine forest rose towards the Guajara mountain, second only to the peak of Mount Teide in height. I fel honoured to be walking in the foot steps of Scotlands astronomer royal, Charles Piazzi Smyth who popped over in 1856.

The rising and intersecting pathways were steep but well maintained and sign posted, allowing for several different routes to take. The area has always boasted a bounty of food and natural industry, figs, almonds, and the cereal gofio were a mainstay of local life and their legacy could be seen in the stone kilns and a large water mill, preserved but now replaced by the march of time. Las Vegas means “the meadows” and the green lower slopes provide the inspiration for that.

It´s an area of contrasts with dense forest areas rubbibg noses with dried streams and shadey gathering spots, ideal for a water and sarnie break. There are steeply rising tracks that skirt the tree line, and dipping paths that offer a front row seat to the magnificent views down to the coast. On this very hot day there were only a few other walkers and a sense of that pioneer spirit when emerging into clearings that offer glimpses of the rural history.

With plenty of shade and drink rests, it turned into a near six hour walk before arriving back at the church and small car park in Las Vegas. Testing on the feet but rewarding on the senses, the walk offered plenty of contrasts of terrain but paid out a real jackpot in terms of sights and sounds.

Buffeted by icy showers, swirling mist and fog, the almond blossom still shone through. After dropping 10 degrees between Los Cristianos and the Tenerife west town of Santiago del Teide, it was good to see petals as perky as ever for the annual 10 km walk.

Between strong gusts and bright sunshine, it was clear to see that even two weeks into the month long pilgrimage, there were none of the carpets of dislodged leaves blooms around the tree trunks. A good harvest clung on as new buds slowly unfolded.

The splashes of rain dripped slowly off the hearts of the tree fastened blooms. Nature was showing patience and resilience, hundreds of walkers throng the sturdy, well managed paths during the festival, but numbers were only in dozens on this mid week mixed bag of weather.

It´s not all window dressing, large amounts of almonds are harvested across Tenerife, and from 28 January to 26 February, 18 bars in the municipality of Santiago del Teide, add almond influenced drinks and snacks to their menus.There are three walking routes of differing distances, the Tourist Information office in the church plaza of Santiago del Teide has full details of the Almendro en Flor paths, or you can check online. The longest route passes through the Chinyero shrine to the 1909 volcanic eruption of Mount Teide, that was stopped in its tracks when the statue of the Virgen was placed in its path – and hailed as a miracle.

I had hoped to repeat previous sights of the snow covered peak of Teide, but the wispy clouds ganged up on me as I entered the solidified lava field section of the walk. I was well layered up and lagged for warmth and had good gripping footwear for climbs and plunges along the paths. The finish of the long version takes a steep dive down into and then back up out of Arguayo, a small village with a very limited bus service back down to the main town.

A taxi from one of the few village bars is a good idea. I had done the walk many times including the tyarmac road up and out of Arguayo before it spirals down to Santiago del Teide but a cold rain lashed me this time as I descended. The 460 Titsa bus from Icod was an hour overdue (again) when myself and several other walkers, fresh from exploring the area, caught a Titsa bus down to Los Gigantes. I used this to link me to a bus on to Los Cristianos. Almond blossom walks still send my senses into overdrive. I guess I am just nuts about this versatile and tasty natural treat.

Unspoilt blue skies and a crisp clean feel to the Tenerife air. What better way to kick start 2022, and La Escalona, just shy of Vilaflor was the ideal launch pad.

Casa Los Escalones beamed with pride after a recent spruce up, and the local craft mural led nicely round the modern white church to a basic but restful viewing point over the green bowl of Valle San Lorenzo.  My last call to these parts saw traces of forest fire smoke looming up above Vilaflor. Nature is constantly working to recycle the landscape, this time pink almond blossom reached out to the sun.

There seemed to be messages of hope everywhere, even the graded jable top soil looked more like a scribbled declaration of intent. Terraced fields faced the lower volcanic peaks and sea beyond with the look of a auditorium seating for the coming year. The sparse parts of the landscape were punctuated with stretching trees and flowers craning to see over stone walls.

There was a price to pay for all this, a turn along the Camino Altavista led to a steep bridleway of hard angular volcanic rock which tested eager feet as it curled around old stone water channels on the descent to the small hamlet of Tunez with its modern white church identifiable by its tower.

Roque de Jama dominated the far ridge as traffic tracked up the road past La Centinela, gateway to more fine walks. Multi coloured versions of old farm houses peppered the rising side of the nearest barranco (ravine), one of several that helped to carve out the valley.

Heading further down and just beyond the football ground and circular Terrero (Canarian Wrestling) sports hall emerged in the main street of busy Valle San Lorenzo in just under three hours at a leisurely pace. The sight of the almond blossom was a big bonus and a reminder of the Almond Blossom Walk from Santiago del Teide, launched on 22, 23, and 24 January with organised groups. If you choose to go independently, the blossom lasts untul about 12 February, depending on weather. The seasons always ensure Tenerife has new sights to see as well as the yearly return of old favourites.

Rattling like a spoon in a tea cup, the awning of Fleytas Cafe bar had ambitions of becoming a hang glider. Within five minutes of swapping the wind swept corner just north of Santiago del Teide for a plunging Etjos track, the sun was radiating off bursting buds and springing sprouts of  leafy spreads.

Early January rain had raised hopes of seeing some rare birds in the pools left by many decades of soil excavation. Alas it was still defiantly dry, although the long term small birds were flitting along the hedgerows as the green corridors guided us along to the centre of Erjos. After that we just kept walking. Ruigomez had flashed by on previous Titsa bus trips to Icod, this time we stuck with a smaller lane that ran parralel and had some modern refurbs to old traditional houses.

A steep upturn and we were at a crossroads with the tell tale sign we needed and a neat bus stop emblazoned with the local name for the bus – guagua. There was clearly more footwork ahead ro reach El Tanque and we were happy to plod on. Ruigomez showed signs of flirting with tourism in recent years, the Pueblo Aborigen Guanche Park had long given way to a go kart ytack but even that was silent in these Covid times.

The nearby Camel Centre was doing its best to lure people in, from camel rides to freshly cooked steaks in their restaurant. Lets hope the camels couldn´r read all the signs. The church next door was a beacon of defiance, with or without the festive touches. That still left a fair old trot down into El Tanque by a series of meandering roads and paths. The Holy Cross church welcomed us to the centre of El Tanque , and a food and drink stop was very welcome.

Icod and Garachico are the big stars in this elevated rural corner of Tenerife, but the surrounding towns all have a story to tell that helps the appreciation of this north west outpost with its hidden delights.

Red and white stripes usually warn of wild seas but all was becalmed on a December afternoon stroll through the most inviting atmosphere of the east coast of Tenerife. Wind rurbines were frantically setting their own pace but the sea was still as boats bobbed lightly. Abades a little further south, normally gets the first feel of my toes but the sandstone and peeling paintwork made for a less formal view from the white blocks of houses at the Arico end.

A variety of coves, walkways, and boat launch sites had encouraged a sparse but splash happy few local families. There were rell tale signs of more hostile waves in rocks that were split apart like bread fresh from the oven. As the motorway pounded along at a higher level, a gentle grsdient led down to the lapping waves.

The gentle shelving allowed swimmers to stand waist high while new foot marks made their signature as children slid down the banked fine sand. It was like the coast was breathing with relief after an ambitious plan for three large new hotels came to nothing on the expanse of Abona that juts out into the sea.

The lighthouse looked magnificent in traditional candy stripes. More ancient intrusions on the skyline added character, the old rock stack chimney led onto the deserted shells of the intended leper colony that overlooks Abades. Time and a cure for the ancient curse denied the need for the mini village but the graffiti and murals add to the surreal feel of the area.

Abades was its usual friendy and welcoming self, slightly less water sports craft adorned rhe beaches but there are always plenty of nice hollows to cosey down in before rushing into the sea. An array of partially marked out plots is a throwback to an earler age of planned mass development. A new apartment block nestled low level near the shore, already winning converts to this special part of Tenerife. Long may it prosper in ts comfortable bubble.

Candy striped and 167 feet tall, the most modern of two lighthouses can be seen from Los Cristianos beach in the south of Tenerife. Answering its call with two friends, we uncovered the harsh but beautiful coastal history of lava fields, salt production, and moody seas. Malpais de la Rasca is the protected cultural heritage site but we started out at the fishing village of Las Galletas. Freak waves had punched a gaping hole in the beach promenade, a reminder that this stretch of twinkling blue sea could pack a punch anytime it chose to. The modern marina soon faded as small coves and crunching shingle led us through tall spikey cardones plants. Rock pools abounded as a meandering path climbed and dipped. Shade arrived alongside huge plantations of bananas that looked enough to feed an army of monkeys.

A notice and the rearing tower of the 1978 built lighthouse announced the entrance to the malpais (badlands). Dried pools harked back to the days when sea salt was harvested from the waves that buffeted the coast. There were other welcome uses for these small puddles of water. Tabaiba plants sprout in clusters around the lava field, the toxic armaga variety sprinkled in a pool would induce a drunk like state making the delirious fush easy to grab.

The squat buildings near the sea beacon are from the 1898 original lighthouse, built from stone quarried from Guaza mountain were for the lighthouse keepers family, and the lamp room which needed lighting by hand from acetylene gas. There was no such burden  on our visit, just a few young sun bathers on the nearby outcrops of rock, oblivious to the daily dramas that used to play out as ships were kept well away from the rocks.

Pushing on into the lava fields, we followed an uneven surface a few yards back from the sea. It must have been a slow and uncomfortable procession for herders, cattle, and traders. Some of the old stone huts (goros) still remain at least in part, they would have provided welcome relief from unexpected turns in the weather and any accidents on slippy surfaces. In recent years people have built illegal shacks on the protected zone, a few weeks before our visit a big clean up removed 1,335 kilos of rubbish. that doesn´t mean it´s lifeless out there, some 40 species of reptile call the area home.

Guaza mountain and the modern developments of Palm Mar steered us past the old protective fort and onto even roads to a small promenade. Familiar landmarks over in Los Cristianos looked enticingly close but its a choice of a steep up and over the mountain or our chosen route up the main street of Palm Mar to the busy bus road back into Los Cristianos. The mountain is worthy of a dedicated walk in its own right with a track up the spine to the radio mast park at the peak. A few bars in Palm Mar ensured we cot some cooling liquids after a hot 2.5 hour stroll. Rasca is a taste of tradition and a connection to tougher times.

Threading delicate strands of cotton to make an artistic roseta is a Canarian art form. So it was fitting that it was featured on a series of large murals that greeted me on my arrival at La Escalona, just 6 kms below Vilaflor.

Walking down through La Hondura, an even bigger mosaic of natures making  spread out below with ancient tracks almost touching before heading down to Valle San Lorenzo, Arona town, and the south coast of Tenerife beyond. How does nature pack it all in? Between neat terraces and the peaks of the Ifonche walk, the  modern road that brought me to the higher ground, skirting along the lip of the deep barranco (ravine).

It was a seroiusly hot day but I passed a full reservoir complete with a memorial stone on its side. Further down there was a more unusual road side tribute A bag of Canarian potatos added a few more wrinkles from the heat, normally salt gives them the distinctive look and delicious flavour. The sweep of the valley below stretched as far as the rising road to the La Centinela viewing point to my left as well as showing familiar land marks from Arona town, a little further adrift than anticipated to my right.  A nifty cut back took me to Camino Altavista and swung me back on course for the village of Tunez.

I keep on seeing abandoned farm buildings on my travels, stripped of their past glories by the ravages of time and weather. Altavista showed showed some that had been kept in tip top condition and looked magnificent and functional, Other dwellings have found a new lease of life as rural tourism holiday retreats. One new recruit just below my path included a clear perspex bubble in the courtyard for observing the uncluttered night time skies that attract many astronomers to Tenerife.

In between the two extremes, there is always plenty of scope for good old muscle stretching on challenging paths that link villages and trade routes. I could see the distinctive white tower of Tunez church far below but it wasn´t going to come without some effort. Plenty of twists and turn over large awkward and uneven stones dominated the slowly descending route. Eventually it opened out to a flat exit at the entry to Tunez and a water break in the shade of the church plaza. Tunez commands a wonderful position looking out over the valley bowl of Valle San Lorenzo and an easier descent towards the town.

Barranco de Chijas dominates the valley as it carves irs way down from the hills. An old stone viaduct was always a popular diversion. It´s now sealed off but still worth the hour extra to head up to imagine rain water powering down through the tall bridges when the rare heavy rains arrive. There are more precarious view points to survey the valley but I had my eyes fixed on the circular terrero (Canarian Wrestling hall) and the football ground beside it. Once past that its an easy exit back to the main street of the busy and popular town.

It could have been dawn breaking as sun filtered through leaves, casting eerie shadows. Noon was a more accurate time check, and I was just ten minutes into Erjos in the north west corner of Tenerife. The large green wedge of laurisilva forest marched across Teno rural park as a robin flitted away from a wooden gate. It was an inspiring welcome after I had stepped off my Titsa bus from Los Cristianos, after it had passed through the 20 degree sun of Santiago del Teide.

It was an easy transition from the blue skies and bursts of flowers as I trailed family groups strolling up the gentle grass rise. As the foliage closed in, moisture hung in the air, and moss clung to branches, it summoned thoughts of myths amd legends. Views from the mirador, about 30 minutes in, added to the contrasts and marked the point where most people retraced their steps to the plaza and church.

Others pushed on through the stark contrast of  the cool  tunnel created by tree branches entwined overhead. Twisted roots and dribbles of water made it all seem alive, I wouldn´t have been surprised to see strange eyes  glowing in the undergrowth, birds singing lightened the tone and sharp bends offered a realm of possibilities with each step.

Erjos offers a range of well signed walks, more choices cme up after two hours, I was doing the full 11.7 kms to Los Silos so took a tight dipping path marked for Monte de Aqua and Los Marados on the way down to the finish point. It was like opening a door on another dimension as fertile valleys plunged into the barrancos (ravines) as trees and plants hugged the hill sides. The roof was off and the sun sneaked through to spotlight a circular trail down the mountain.

Every branch and leaf was a conduit for moisture that eeked out of the clouds and into the thirsty soil. Rocky fingers protruded from the high sides as if reaching out to grab their share of natures bounty. There were only a few other walkers on this stretch, and they were coming up from the coast that appeared in the distance between the peaks. Los Maradas farm dwellings bore witness to the lure of this area, plentiful water being a must for cattle grazers and farmers.

The final 30 minutes trek was another tight path to the left of the derelict dwellings and linked up to a wider water modern channel that emerged just oposite the urban centre of Los Silos. I wasn´t too impressed by the seven adventure cyclists who poured down behind me, despite signs at two points forbidding their access. Lycra clad and in helmets they must have felt secure, but I didn´t fancy tyre marks up my legs. The good news was the walk emerged just by the Titsa bus stop to Garachico and Icod.

It was a very rewarding four hour walk in this rich corner of Tenerife,Erjos in the inland key to a range of walks of varying lengths. Coming up from the south, the first bus stop is Puerto de Erjos for the black caves, or in my case, two stops later was the busier Erjos with the plaza and a few cafe bars. There is limited parking near both bus stops to unlock a choice of options. !Quite a green heaven.