The weather, the terrain, and the views are constantly changing on the Almendro en Flor (also known as the almond blossom walk) but one thing remains constant, the beauty of nature as it unlocks its secrets.

It was a chilly 7 degrees as I arrived in Santiago del Teide but the low, wandering cloud (wasn’t he an Indian Chief?) was parting and as I strode out on the well signed pathway behind the church plaza. The sun shone as a strung out army of walkers picked and clicked their way upward but it soon went missing to be replaced with a cool breeze laced with small flecks of moisture. Maybe I should have shoved my jeans in my pack back but at least I had a coat to add to my layers.

This was my fourth annual almond inspired treat, the blossom was at an advanced stage with trees covered with white, and pink flowers. At the first opening along the track the reservoir was full to the brim unlike last years meagre level. Looking back beyond Santiago del Teide to the popular steep road that accesses Masca there was bright sunshine, it can change so quickly up the western side of Tenerife. The complete walk is 9 kms, the first big milestone is the shrine at the spot where the Chinyero eruption of 2009 stopped short of the virgins statue that had been wheeled out from the church. It had taken an hour for me to get this far, 3.6 kms, I took a nosebag break and chatted to a few other walkers, some from mainland Spain, some German visitors, and some on holiday from France.

Pushing on the lava fields provided challenging footholds as we were funneled between big banks of craggy lava. The pine forests began to appear at the distant sides of our trail, the swirls of moisture laden clouds were feeding the earth via the needles of the pines, nature doesn’t waste anything. At points the uneven surface gave way to yellow brown soil before the rocks rose back up around as like silent guardians. Entering the edge of the pine forest the trail became smoother but undulated up and down around clusters of thick twisted roots. At this point in previous years I had been greeted with clear views of the snow covered side of Mount Teide, this time there was much less of a covering but as the cloud blew aside it still gave an inspiring glimpse of the peak highlighted by a generous serving of blue sky.

Some walkers were tackling the route from the Arguayo end so there were plenty of new people to pass as well as the ones I kept switching places with after stopping for more photos. The final stretch brought more low whispy cloud creating an eerie dreamscape. The walk is almost circular so Santiago del Teide came into view again and the gentle peel of the church bell added to the overall enjoyment.

The descent into Arguayo is a zig zag route through terraced farm land where almonds are grown in large numbers for export as well as the delicious sauces and pastes that many of the local bars and restaurants are showcasing until the 28 February. The coat and jumper were back in my bag by the time I hit the sunny streets of Arguayo. A 462 Titsa bus (2.30 and 4.30 pm) took me back through Santiago del Teide and on to Los Gigantes before heading back to Los Cristianos. The three and a half hour walk had again exceeded the previous years rewards – I can’t wait for next year.

Pastries, pies, turkey, and turron, with all those and a few cheeky beers heading in with the Christmas wave I thought it was about time I hit the Tenerife hiking trail again so I headed for my near neighbour Montaña Guaza.

I shouldn’t have been able to neglect the big ridge as it rises up from the Los Cristianos coast and hangs over the top of my apartment block but I reckon it’s five years since my feet last graced any of the paths that criss cross the upper plateau. Maybe it’s been too obvious to me and maybe the roaming stray dogs a couple of years ago put me off but the years melted away as I took the steep stone steps from Playa de Callao. It’s always a popular route and as I took big strides up the twisting pathway I could hear the clicking of hiking sticks from several other walkers ahead and behind me.

Los Cristianos opened up below with the mid morning sun bathing the old undeveloped beaches, the wide crescent of Las Vistas beach, and Playa de Las Americas beyond. The sea was calm as inter island ferries and pleasure boats glided in and out of port and the exceptionally low tide exposed plenty of damp sand with few early takers for sun bathing duty. That first big climb is just about the toughest bit so cresting the hill to flatter land felt good and the trails leading away gave me several choices of direction, I was determined to do both main routes.

Heading for the cliff top path I passed through remains of the old tobacco and tomato plantations, this protected reserve attracts many species of birds like the Chiff Chaff and Trumpeter Finch but although I heard their pleasant warbling they steered well clear of me. The route I was on passes up and down several barrancos, as I rose from the dip of one I could hear the loud cry of seagulls. Back near the cliff edge I peered over to see the seagulls wheeling in to their homes in the rock face. Just below them was a Spirograph layout of fish farm cages, many are now abandoned but the active ones are a big draw for sea life clearing up scraps of food.

Further barrancos were lined with piles of raw slate, this and other stone was quarried in large quantities years ago, the Masca lighthouse in the distance was built from the stone. Palm Mar soon came into view, there is a pathway down to the modern residential area and the Malpais de Rasca beyond. Some walkers loop back across the open land to the starting point but I headed inland with the communication aerials on the 428 metre peak my target. Stone walls separating terraces are a reminder of the agricultural use of this land and there are a couple of old houses in poor repair, I even found a clothes washing zone, dry now like the broken stone channels that used to feed it water.

The television, phone, and radio masts take a lot of installing and upkeep so wider tracks showed tyre marks but the recent rains had moved plenty of loose stone and shingle into the ruts so it shifted underfoot. Eventually reaching the steep final incline to the masts I got some great views down the other side of the mountain to Guaza, and the TF1 motorway heading off to Santa Cruz. There were two aerial compounds with unrestricted access through them, the second afforded me another view of Los Cristianos, It looked like it might just be possible to find a way down through the tufts of bushes to somewhere near my place but it would be a pretty stupid risk so I headed back from where I had come.

A downhill return trip is always quicker but it was still a bit tricky avoiding the smaller less grippy stones. A Land Rover from an aerial maintenance crew overtook me but made slow progress in the hope of keeping tyres and suspension intact. Including water, snack, and photo stops the whole trip took just over four hours, I reckon that’s my fuse lit for another season of trips up into the hills.

My lazy legs had found their stride again, after a few months of neglecting the walking trails I dived back in with a mission to explore one of the newly promoted routes from Candelaria Ayuntamiento. It was so enjoyable I just kept on going along the east coast of Tenerife down to Guimar to make a nice long afternoon of it.

There’s a full report to come on the stretch from Candelaria basilica to Playa de La Viuda for blog.tenerife.co.uk , a 90 minute walk that revealed a little used route with plenty to offer. I bade farewell to the charming old fishing village and briefly took the road long the back of the industrial estate that contains the Mahou brewery, I’d tasted that a few months before covering a CD Tenerife promotional visit. Thoughts of beer had to be banished from my head on this scorching afternoon, my water ration was good for another few hours and El Socorro welcomed me back to the coast.

A popular bathing area, El Socorro beach was fairly busy with families and the small refreshment van under a tree was doing a steady trade. A few yards further marked the entrance to Malpais de Guimar (badlands of Guimar) a protected area of natural beauty, if you like volcanic cones and twisted lava flows this will knock you bandy. The last stretch of surfing waves was soon left behind and I was into the wide open landscape as I followed a loosely marked path. A few roughly thrown together shelters and shacks were the only signs of life as the dark, hard rock underfoot kept me alert.

I was quite shocked by the amount of rubbish left behind at the surfing zone, this gave way to natures own deposits with driftwood and discarded waste from boats driven onto the rocks by the strong tides. The wispy clouds hung quite low in the Guimar valley as the lava fields stretched up through the cones to the TF1 motorway. One of the cones, Montaña de la Mar, made a fine natural mirador to take in the view and the information on the thoughtfully provided board. This peak was formed 10,000 years ago, if that sounds a long time just consider that in terms of Tenerife’s geology this and it’s 277 metre inland neighbour, Montaña Grande, were formed in the most recent hour.

Just after this resting point I encountered a couple pushing their bicycles along the track, there was no way thy could ride them on this rough stretch, and the bad news was they would be unseated for well over another hour until they got to El Socorro. My eyes, and legs, were cheered to see an end to the lava coast as El Puertito loomed up in the distance. Another assorted collection of old fishing shacks and improvised shelters eased me onto a smoother pathway and into the very busy El Puertito. Families were packed along the quayside and the sea was a big lure for the hot and sweaty, I should have brought my swimming gear. Instead I made for a local bar, a cold beer, and a huge chocolate pastry as I reflected on another route to add to my collection.

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.

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.

There is always another wow moment in Tenerife, slicing down into Masca valley on the corkscrew road from Santiago del Teide, the island of La Palma shone brightly in the distance as the rocks and the centuries parted for amazing views of the village below. For me this was a chance to close a glaring gap in my exploration of Tenerife, despite many treks and jolly jaunts I had only had a brief brush with Masca village on a jeep safari as it slowly recovered from the big fires of  2007.

Clasped in the palm of nature the not so secret seven clambered, squeezed, and carefully picked our way down the high sided Masca valley. This was an Armada Sur based group adventure with myself, The General, Kirsty and Gordon with the girls and Federica a visiting language student from Italy.

We met up on the 460 Titsa bus from Playa de Las Americas before changing to the Titsa mini bus 355 that always waits for the connecting buses at Santiago del Teide plaza prior to taking the 5km road to Masca. The driver was great, not only skillfully negotiating the tight road but also stopping at key points so passengers could take photos. This mini marvel was only 1.45 euros one way but the second discounted fare of the morning on my Bono ticket was a mere 10 cents.

Spilling out at the top of the village we had a quick look at the church plaza and then hit the trail downwards past the bar restaurant with just some brief fruit snack buys from a local vendor. The pathway isn’t clearly marked but it’s easy to find, especially as it’s a busy and popular route, we could pick out a few bobbing backpacks up ahead. The exposed rocky path was soon embraced by fertile green undergrowth and a bridge over the barranco gave us a chance to do a panoramic sweep of all the nature had laid out before us.

Probably the biggest challenge of this walk is the diverse terrain, changing rapidly from smooth and dusty to rugged and cracked with plenty of blocks of exposed rock calling for a well placed step up or down. Looking up the towering stacks of rock were carved and etched by a combination of the elements, natural stairways rose in small crevices and old water channels still trickled despite the current alert for dangerously high temperatures. At several crossing points of the stream it was easy to imagine how even a small amount of winter rain could make it difficult to pass.

Of course we came prepared with ample water and snacks, shady spots became natural breaks and Christmas for the lizards that scuttled out of the plants and rocks looking to scavenge any stray bread. There were notices early on warning against feeding the skinny feral cats as they also devour smaller species and tip the balance of the eco system. Numbers on little squares fastened to the rocks were clearly some indication of distance but we found out later they are also reference points for anyone needing to call emergency rescue. There’s not a month goes by without people needing rescuing from Masca, it’s not a walk you can easily opt out of part way through, lack of preparation is a common cause but as this is the second biggest natural attraction in Tenerife after Teide National Park there are bound to be a few accidents.

Settling in one of the large clearings for a breather it was like being in a giant cathedral and the echoing quality of the air added to the sense of awe. There was a steady procession of other walkers, some on organized trips and some making their own way. The stream came and went as it burbled under the surface only to re-emerge later, it encouraged plenty of insect action and a selection of dragonflies in contrasting colours. Maybe we were deluded but was that the faint sound of the waves wafting in on the cooling breeze? Myself, The General, and Federica hit the front and worked our way over and around a particularly challenging section of rocks and tight ledges as the rock stacks parted wider and we got our first glimpse of the sea.

The beach of large pebbles that greeted us spread out to our left where it became a sandy cove, and to our right where a rocky outcrop below the steep incline served as a launch point for swimmers via metal stairs, and also as a mooring point for the water taxis. Two companies operate from under sunshades on the beach, we booked our sea trip to Los Gigantes with Top Class Tours, just 10 euros each or 5 euros for children aged 2 to 12.

Some of our group took a dip before our taxi arrived, the 20 minute skip over the waves came with a refreshing sea breeze and some on board entertainment. The skipper held a biscuit aloft for the seagulls who powered into our windy slipstream to take turns at grabbing a little snack. At one point we thought we might have to hang on to The General’s feet to stop a feathered kidnapping but the biscuits were their preferred treat. The walking part of the day took us 4.5 hours but we took our time and made several stops. It was a cracking day and Masca lived up to all my expectations.

It’s not just DVD’s that have added content, retracing a previous walk down from Santiago del Teide to Puerto Santiago I discovered extra leg straining, muscle sapping kilometers. Camino Real is one of the ancient tracks used to link the west coast town to the coast, and very lovely it is too.

Santiago del Teide was sunny and a crisp 17 degrees as I arrived on the 460 Titsa bus to Icod. The entrance to the walk wrongly signposts it as 6.7 kms but the other distance posts along the way have it as 8 kms but what’s a few more metres between friends. Stone wall building was highly skilled in this corner of Tenerife and the sturdy guardians channeled me slowly down the uneven rock track as it slowly veered away from the main road. The flowers and plants were perky and colourful in the nearby fields and even the cactus were flowering.

Last time I did the full route without diversions but just 30 minutes in I found my first temptation. As the track rose and turned a corner there were two smaller feeds, one down to El Molledo, and soaring upward the one I picked, a 2.1 km trek (each way) to Risco Blanco. It was tight and twisting and a bit overgrown in places and at one point a large finely balanced rock overhung my path. Was it the work of nature, it looked like a dastardly plot from Willie E Coyote, I took my chances and was thankful I hadn’t worn my Road Runner costume. Sometimes these paths can fizzle out to nothing but this one held a fine reward, as I crested the last hill I found myself staring straight at the knarled white cone of Risco Blanco, stunning in itself but doubly so as La Gomera shone clear and bright in the distant sea beyond.

Tenerife must be a geologists dream, stacks, intrusions and many more rock formations spread out below me as I headed back down to the Camino Real. Back at the junction I realized I was still not far from my Santiago starting point. Pushing on I went down into the bowl surrounding the Barranco del Valle with water gurgling through the large pipes that now carry the water that used to run through stone channels. An excitable cockerel nearly blasted my eardrums off as I passed a small isolated farm yard and across the valley goats were bleating and clanging the bells around their necks – damm noisy place the countryside.

Oh lucky me, there was another signpost waiting to test me, this one pointed up to Cruz de Los Misioneros, at a mere 1.1 kms, I couldn’t resist and started plodding up the side of the mountain path partially covered in bushes and grass. There were big boulder based steps to cope with and as I rose higher I could see the village of Tamaimo spreading out below me across the barranco. The meandering track didn’t seem to have any obvious end but I stuck with it, big respect to those people clutching a paint pot and brush who add the yellow and blue marks on the rocks to show the correct route. Eventually I hauled myself up on the last ledge and looked over to see a sheer drop to another valley and the other side of my old friend the 942 metre high Risco Blanco, a bit scary but very rewarding.

Back down at the bottom my track was dipping down close to the almost dry river bed of the barranco which became a small section of the way ahead. After a long narrow corridor of steep sided rocks I emerged with a welcome view of the coast in the near distance. The barranco now fell away to my side and reservoirs had tapped the dribbles of water coming down to feed some fertile farm areas. I ignored another side track, this one for Circular Guanma, another 3.5 km that I could manage without but it would get a chance another day.

The final stretch was in some ways the hardest as firm but uneven rock gave way to shifting small shingle but my trainers were up to the task. The trail comes out by a large farm area and strangely the posts point to the high cliff face on the right, I tried that last time and it nearly stranded me up the side of the mountain. Sticking to the left hand side of the netted growing areas I threaded my way though some narrow paths, with those paint marks encouraging me, and emerged just above Puerto Santiago on the main road leading down to the Los Gigantes mirador. My apologies to any passing motorists subjected to me sat on the grass verge removing my socks and massaging my feet – you can probably seek counseling for the trauma. It had been a good walk, five hours and just over 14 kms and plenty of glimpses of nature at its finest.

Elephant gun, inflatable lifeboat, distress flares, and several slabs of Kendall Mint Cake, on second thoughts maybe it had been a while since my last Tenerife mountain walk and I was over packing my knapsack. Settling for some cheese rolls and a couple of bottles of cold water my friend Karen and I caught the Titsa bus from Los Cristianos to the La Centinela mirador up above Valle San Lorenzo some 11 kms away.

It was another scorcher, the last time I did this walk a few years ago it was a cloudy day but as we crunched our way down the steep incline below the La Centinela restaurant the coast unfolded in the distance with a fine view from Playa de Las Americas to El Medano and the distinctive Montana Roja. The walk is known as the Camino de la Hoya and used to be an old trade track that linked Arona with San Miguel. Since the 1970’s the busy main road does the link work along the lip of the valley but the odd pile of horse droppings and ruts in the path showed that it’s not just walkers that prefer this route.

Up above us Roque de Jama was a tell tale window on the volcanic past, the cone is cracked and splintered and reminded me of Sir Alex Fergusons nose. It was spookily quiet, we could see a long way ahead and behind and we were alone – well apart from the sweet song of the birds. Part way down we stopped to have a nosey inside an abandoned cottage, one of those holiday property programmes would no doubt have described it as an “opportunity” but the remote setting would limit those late night trips to the nearest bar.

Pummice used to be extracted from the valley floor and the barranco, dry at this time of year, could supply much needed water to irrigate crops on the terraced hills on the coastal side. There seemed to still be some limited quarrying going on in one of the flatter areas and the loud cry of a cockrel sounded from a small holding up on higher ground. Reaching the old spring and the water collecting area we stopped for our bottled water break, the old clothes washing trough was half full of stagnant water that neither of us fancied sipping. At this far end of the valley the rough track gave way to modern irregular shaped blocks as the path rose steeply past a couple of converted farm houses now being used as attractive family homes. At the top of this steep slog the Caserio de La Hoya rural house had been lovingly restored but was closed as it was on my last visit.

The old road at the top included an old tile kiln, Horno de Tejas, built in the late 19^th century and restored in 1993 and the resevoir further along looked almost full unlike the few we spotted from the main track earlier. We were skirting San Miguel now and could see the spire of the church but there was more work to do. The Sendero del Tamaide teased us along the edge of another barranco before luring us down into El Lomo and a wooden bridge over a few spluttering dribbles from the almost dry spring. Deep down in this cleft the birds swooped overhead from their homes scooped out of the rock sides. Another big effort up the tight path brought us to a modern concrete road following on from a very uneven path that dropped away dramatically into the barranco, nice to look into but good to stay out of.

There was the last stretch through the narrow back streets of San Miguel centre past the Casa de El Capitan and a mix of revamped rural houses and new speculative apartments from more optimistic times now unfinished and abandoned. A basic modern café supplied our pressing needs of drinks and a filling snack as our muscles got a chance to take some deep breaths. On the bus back along the top road overlooking our main route it was rewarding to see how much ground we had covered in the two and a half hours trekking, it’s definitely rekindled my walking instincts.

Fertile is another adjective that The Skids might have added to their lyrics if they had done the Santiago de Teide to Puerto Santiago walk. As talk of drought continues in Tenerife the Barranco del Valle showed how well water can be used to keep agriculture going.

At the top end of this 8 km walk the low dark rolling cloud was sprinkling rain on me as I set out, it felt a bit chilly too and I was glad of my rain jacket. Much of the route is the old Camino Real, one of the earliest paths linking the coast to the hills. Big angular blocks of stone tested my footwork and volcanic stone walling helped to channel me slowly downwards parallel to the main road.

The rain soon fizzled out as I left the brooding cloud behind me and the coat joined the bare essentials in my small rucksack. I soon discovered that this was quite a selection box of teasing trails, the first temptation was a detour of 3.8 kms to El Moledo or a 2.1 km stairway up to Risco Blanco. Making a mental note for a future trip I pushed onwards and down to the lip of the barranco deep below.

Rock stacks to my right were bizarre and fascinating and the path had its own beauty with cactus plants blooming with pink pears. The next signpost offered up Cruz de Los Misioneres, a steep climb up the side of the mountain to a lone white cross at the top, again I had to decline the invitation. A black goat I passed trotted up onto a mound and started a bleated conversation with a friend across the barranco. Tamaimo was now in view to my left and as the path dipped down, the trail crossed the dry barranco bed and I took advantage of a smooth stone to sit and have a snack. The river course may have been dry but since the start of the walk a large pipe running close to the path had gurgled loudly with the water rushing through it.

Cresting a hill I got my first glimpse of the coast and very beautiful it looked. A little further on I noticed several reservoirs, not full but not far off. Pipes running into them were matched by others leading out into well tended plots of bananas and cereal crops, all looking very healthy. Coming down hill two reservoirs looked more like a small marina, the sign here pointed up to the right so I duly obliged only to find myself following a quickly narrowing ledge that was leading to a sheer drop.

Common sense eventually tapped me on the shoulder and I back tracked to the reservoirs and headed around the well protected banana plantations. The track between the towering green enclosures soon turned into a road and my confidence returned as I recognised some landmarks up ahead. The road came out just above the Los Gigantes mirador which was awash with coach parties of tourists. The near four hours had sped by, the transition from rain to hot sun, and the expanse of fertile farmland in the barranco had given me a new understanding of the precarious nature of water supplies on the island. More importantly I had found another stimulating and rewarding trail of wonder and beauty.

Looking down on the beaches of El Medano and ducking as the planes came and went from Reina Sofia airport, I heaved a contented sigh as an epic six and a half hour walk drew to a close. This was the latest of the Arona council free guided walks but my guide and the other 19 walkers bailed out just short of the climb to the top of Montaña Roja.

I had feared a repeat of the previous day’s calima and wild winds but a perfect clear and sunny day dawned as I met the other walkers at Las Galletas. The early part of the trek was a mix of raw nature and rampant development as we followed the coastal path through Costa del Silencio taking a few short cuts through holiday and residential complexes. The coast around and beyond Westhaven Bay is beautiful and rugged and it seemed that every spare outcrop had been claimed by a keen fisherman. As we rounded a corner we got a full frontal view of Montaña Amarilla. If I told anyone unfamiliar with Tenerife that we have a Yellow Mountain they might think I also believe that the moon is made of cheese, but the evidence was there in the distinctive tinge of the rocks as the rich turquoise sea lapped gently at the pebble beach.

This area of the coast is being protected and nurtured as a special site for quality diving with strict limits on the prime spots where Lime Urchin, Spotted Burrfish, Grey Triggerfish, and many more wonders mingle in their watery treasure chest. There’s more information on the area and the project at this website.

It was lovely to admire but the steep ascent up Montaña Amarilla was a tough test on the legs with rewarding views from the top. Coming down the other side Amarilla Golf and Golf del Sur loomed up in the distance but we had a snack stop on the large pebbled beach and enjoyed a light breeze. There were already a few camper vans sprinkled around but nothing compared to the motorcade that will swarm down for Semana Santa – Easter Week.

Skirting the two golf courses and San Miguel marina we were soon back on the concrete promenade passing San Blas before diving down to the beach again. Rock pools were teaming with young human life as well as sea creatures as we passed Playa Grande and hit Los Abrigos. Here the first dissent started to show as some walkers wanted to catch a bus to El Medano, thankfully the majority realised that this was advertised as a walk so we passed through the delightful Los Abrigos. Some of my Armada Sur football friends were sat outside a bar and teased me with their ice cold pints of Dorada – tempting but the taps would still be full later.

Coming out of Los Abrigos Montaña Roja loomed larger and nearer as we trudged along the sandy beach and onto the coastal path outside the banana plantations. Lots of different bird species hang out in El Medano and whilst a few shy and elusive visitors like the Corredor left us with just a snatch of bird song I did get a shot of this Whimbrel (Zarapito Trinador) on holiday from South America.

Veering away from the main road and kicking our way through the sand we eventually headed back to the camp site by the main road where the others swarmed on a bus stop ready to head back to Los Cristianos. Our travels had already gone beyond five hours but Montaña Roja was advertised as a key point of the walk and I had only seen the 171 metre high peak once before. I had water left in my bottle and one last smelly squashed salami roll so in my best stubborn mood I stomped off to find the main path I needed.

As the path curled around the base of the mountain and headed upwards, my legs were cursing me but the views were already getting even better. Only a few people passed coming down as I kept to the more rugged side of the corkscrew path. Within 30 minute I was at the peak by the concrete stack and admiring the busy airport and the beaches peppered with bodies, some of them nude at La Tejita. Looking back Montaña Amarilla seemed a long way off, the jagged coastline etched in my memory. A few photos and a gulp of water and I was picking my way back down, this time turning onto the path across the main beach and into the heart of El Medano just in time to catch the 4pm bus home. Definitely worth the extra effort.