Skimming over the waves or slicing through the air, the 48 pilots on the PWA Windsurfing World Tour tamed nature again and again in El Medano. Always a highlight of my Tenerife sporting calendar this multi coloured spectacle turns the chilled out surfers paradise into the place to be for a week every summer.

It was business as usual at the small sandy beaches stretching away from the English style pier on the Montaña Roja side of town. Families made the most of the beach , receding in the face of the tide, and kite surfers peppered the sky above the sand dunes as others sought shade in cosy promenade cafes. But a turn around the headland and El Cabezo beach saw the wind greet us with full force, the best news we could have hoped for. This year the leading 32 men and 16 women had gathered to enjoy one of the most popular settings for their sport of choice.

The best part of a week is set aside but it often finishes early as they milk every last gust of wind and curl of wave before a lull can leave them frustrated. Two giants have emerged to dominate in recent years and were leading the way again, Philip Koster of Germany bends the elements to his will and Iballa Moreno of Gran Canaria fends off her two challengers, nature and her twin sister Daida. The pit area consists of a reserved space of beach covered in sails and boards between the public viewing zone and the raised judges hut, the nerve centre of the scoring and supervision. Each rider gets a two minute slot to showcase their best moves riding the waves or twisting the weighty board and sail combo up into the howling winds.

I was constantly mopping the spray from my camera lens as I admired the sheer strength needed to drag their mounts out into the water and then tack into the breeze to get a good run across the bay. The official window cleaner for the scoring hut was kept busy wiping the glass to ensure the judges the best of views while others perched on rocks or at the improved spectators seating near the presentation tent and food point. The international appeal of the sport is reflected in the venues, next up are Turkey and Poland, and the competitors from as far away as Australia, Hungary and the UK, I caught up with Sarah Bibby from Plymouth, pictured below on the left of Maeli Cherel from Australia.

“ This is my first time here, on the opening two days the weather was ok but it is near perfect now for me with big waves and a lighter wind. This is my first year on the PWA tour and realistically I would be pleased to get in the top ten.” Not that you could call Sarah a novice. “I have been windsurfing for 10 years, I do as much as I can in Cornwall” she came third in a four nations event back there last year and has already won the Australia river wave competition this year. An understanding employer has given her time off to chase the dream this year. “I work for Babcock at Devonport Royal Dockyard in Plymouth docks and have just completed two years of my graduate training programme.”
All the windsurfers take the spills in their stride, I asked Sarah if she had any bad injuries, she just shrugged and casually recalled. “Well I have torn ligaments in both feet and bitten through my lip.”

It’s a long and very hot day for the competitors, they have been giving it their all from early morning until dusk at 8.30pm but for many that signals the start of a good natured social life. El Medano is always geared up for informal parties and there are plenty late gatherings with music to enjoy, there’s a special shared bond between the riders and the help and co-operation down at the pits area is very noticeable. There was another reminder of the potential danger of the sea when a swimmer had to be winched up by helicopter at 6pm in the evening, it takes a special breed to tangle with the bigger waves.The PWA elite may move on but there are plenty of keen wave riders all year round in El Medano just loving every wet, adrenaline filled moment.

It was supposed to be all about new signings and emerging local youngsters but old workhorse Aridane stole the show with four goals in CD Tenerife’s 0-5 friendly win at Ibarra in El Fraile. Earlier in the day it had been reported that he might sit the game out with a knock but he looked charged up and hungry for the new season.

With no friendly against CD Marino this was our big southern gathering for the Armada Sur and of course we converged on a bar just a few strides away from the stadium. The local wild youth were on the prowl and trying to provoke us but we had Dorada and football on our minds and were blinkered to the cause. The Armada Sur Scooter Club popped along and there were plenty of the next generation of our supporters. Our new monster of a goalie Jacabo Sanz started, an early chance to stake his claim over last seasons regular Roberto, but he had little to do.

Aridane probably realizes he has to constantly prove himself to many of our fans so a fifth minute header from a Raul Camara cross gave him a kick start. Ten minutes later he pounced on a defensive error and then completed his hat trick with a neat shot over the home keeper. Suso looked lively, well when doesn’t he, and he set up another header for Aridane’s fourth marker after just 21 minutes. Just to show he’s not just goals, the big man turned provider for Cristo Martin to close the scoring after 25 minutes.

Half time saw wholesale changes on both sides with the young brigade taking over for CD Tenerife. It was a low key second half, just our luck as our hard core of fans were at the end we were supposedly attacking. Jairo showed plenty of trickery and promise, and Nano looked keen to avoid being loaned out but Ibarra played a tighter game and restored some home honour by keeping us at bay. After the final whistle the players stayed on and happily posed for photos, the selfie obsession has taken a firm hold over here, and many autographs were signed. I was a bit disgusted at a parent posing their Barcelona topped sprog with one of our players but it was all good natured and combined a handy work out with a charm offensive.

While I was back in Oxford, CDT slipped in an extra early friendly at Las Zocas, that finished in a 1-2 win with goals from Nano and 16 year old youth forward Cristo Gonzalez. There’s a busy week coming up with more testing opponents and hopefully a few more new players but for now it’s just good to get our fix of live football, it’s that golden time when anything is possible for the new season.

Stood at the beach, enclosed by the prison walls, I was taking in this unusual Oxford scene when I noticed some large Mahou beer banners outside a tapas restaurant. For a moment it was like my life had converged into one small focal point. All the temporary sand pit with deck chairs lacked was a Punch and Judy show, the former Oxford castle and jail is now a trendy food and drink area but the Swan and Castle attracted my attention for a few nights of my six day visit.

The English heat wave was crumbling into storms at various points but it stayed true for me and formed a lovely background as I looked up old friends, old brews, and the best of England’s green and pleasant countryside. A long overdue trip to London to see my friend Chrissie involved a short hop to Heathrow’s very impressive Terminal Five and a Tube ride across to Hattons Cross. The London Underground thrilled me as a toddler, delivered me safely on many sports based capital crawls, and still made me tingle as it rattled along. The Kingfisher at Chertsey Bridge was our river side destination for some good food and a catch up, followed by a stroll along the river with swans majestically gliding by.

A day later I met up with former work friend Christine in Oxford and we had a snack at The Folly restaurant down below the bridge. This time narrow boats were the main traffic on the Thames (or Isis in Oxford) at the old punting platform. I resisted the urge to go skinny dipping in the less than clear river and we walked through Christ Church meadows following a punting stretch. A sprinkling of heavy storms over recent months ensured the leafy lanes were in good form and the river level was steady, very different to the parched ground in the drought summer of 1976. I used to enjoy walking through the huge expanse of the University Parks, it’s beautiful and serene and as a “local oik” I liked the idea of invading this bastion of privilege and money.

An English country pub is always a joy to behold, so it was good to meet some more work friends (Shana, Roger, and Julie) out at The George and Dragon in Long Hanborough, I’m sure I have played Aunt Sally there many years ago. Sadly the villages and the towns are feeling the squeeze of the huge supermarkets and cheap beer, it wasn’t mega busy but no doubt an army of BBQ’s were being fired up in peoples gardens. During all my trips and a dip into the Oxford city centre pubs, The Britannia in Headington was my “local” and finish point as I relished their selection of real ales.

It’s easy to neglect the rewards right under your nose, so one afternoon I ventured into Bury Knowle park in Headington, I think I only went in there once as a kid and still have the scar from splitting my hand open in a cycling accident. What a fantastic place, a lot bigger than I expected with the regal looking Bury Knowle house containing a public library, outside there was a kids adventure area including an aerial runway, I was itching to hang on and ride down hanging from the zip line, a crazy golf course and tennis courts. The best thing of all was the nicely designed chill out areas, I thought from a distance there was a tall sculpture in the centre of the park but it was “The Storybook Tree” carved into a totem pole featuring fictional animal characters and surrounded by a circle of small benches with more characters from childrens stories. It all made me feel like kid again so I bought a dribbly ice cream from the tuck shop and slurped my way around the paths, sports pitches, and shaded corners where couples were giving in to cupids arrows. I noticed later in town that the metal ping pong tables were down by the main bus station as well as in the parks – maybe training for the next Commonwealth Games.

It was a packed trip, I also got to meet my former boss Clare at her shop in Wantage, a delightful market town full of pubs. I did limit myself to evening beer consumption and ran into a few old drinking buddies, the real ales were varied and plentiful although a trifle expensive. I even did the tourist bit with a wander around the college back streets to admire the gargoyles, one looked like Jimmy Hill. It would have been perfect if Oxford City had been at home but I will try to catch a league game at a later date. Cheers Oxford.

You can take your ear plugs out now, I have stopped ranting about the oil rigs. My day in La Laguna and Santa Cruz did have some unexpected uplifting highlights. The odd spot of drizzle and some gusty wind wasn’t enough to dampen my enthusiasm but it all perked up nicely when I popped into Parque Garcia Sanabria in Santa Cruz.

I knew the flower clock was back from Germany after a lengthy repair but there was a nice bonus, some of the palm trees just above the clock had informative panels built around them to explain more about the clock and its importance to Santa Cruz. In Spanish and English they paid tribute to Peder Christian Larsen, this inspiring Dane arrived originally as secretary to the Danish Consul and later took on the dual role as Consul to Denmark and Finland.

The donation of the flower clock, made by Swiss experts Favag, was just one contribution to Tenerife, he also helped to introduce a new Telex Siemens phone system to the island, co produced the first detailed tourist guide book, built the Santa Cruz outdoor swimming pool, and set up a Scandinavian shipping agency. His legacy also lives on in the south, he was instrumental in setting up Clinica Vintersol in the then fishing village of Los Cristianos, that was the building block for the tourism expansion of my home area.

Another palm tree revealed the world interest in flower clocks, they are as widespread as Australia and India, there is even one in Edinburgh. What an amazing man, and let’s not forget Garcia Sanabria, a former Santa Cruz mayor who recognized and nurtured the community spirit of Peder. On a more modern level, I was pleased to see the results of the latest restoration work in the park, the sculpted archway in the garden area has been cleaned up to show its stylish face, yet another reason to visit this wonderful park.

That seemed more than enough inspiration for one day but a brief visit to another favourite, TEA – Tenerife Espacio de Las Artes in Avenida San Sebastian brought another blessing. The lady on reception offered me a free entry ticket to the Oscar Dominguez exhibition “Between The Myth and the Dream”. I visited it around five years ago when it was an original display when TEA opened but I really like his surreal art so didn’t need asking twice. The great artist was born in La Laguna, his house there is now Café Oscar but when I first saw it the doorway was made like a sardine tin complete with a key at the top of the frame.

Tacoronte was another of Oscar’s homes and there is a nice little plaza there (above) with some artistic tributes to him and his former home is identified with great pride. TEA is a fantastic place to visit, just across from the “African Market” of La Recova, just the look of the building is enough to tweak your appreciation and it houses the huge library, a café, and a cinema. The work above is a self portrait of Oscar, well we have all felt like that in the morning, and one of many interesting pieces. Tenerife is very good at preserving the memory of those who have contributed to its culture, I was pleased to have found out more about just a few of them.

Shocked, downhearted, and generally cheesed off is not my normal reaction on arriving in Santa Cruz but walking out of the main bus station two monster oil rigs were staring across at me, and they looked horrendous.

It was just two months since my last visit when two rigs were moored some way beyond the port wall but now it looked like a good turn of speed down Avenida Tres de Mayo would enable a short leap over onto the platform square on to the road that drops down past El Corte Ingles and the bus station. All this must sound alarm bells as oil companies gear up to make test drillings off Lanzarote now that the Spanish government has granted permission.

One of my reasons for popping up to the capital was to check out preparations for the 25 July anniversary of Nelson’s defeat in 1797. Over the last couple of years 12 commemorative silver plates have been posted at key points of the battle in Santa Cruz and now five more have been added around Plaza de España and along the Via Litoral. This is where the road has been sent down a specially constructed subway tunnel to allow more pedestrian access to the city centre, the 48 million euro project started in 2009 and is nearing completion.

This scheme has opened up loads more leisure space and will draw cruise liner tourists into the heart of the capital. I have been very impressed over the last decade as the tram system, three floor bus station, and the new Plaza de España lake have given the city a modern, sleek look. The views are not so impressive at the moment, the two rigs, another lurks outside the port wall, stand taller than the Cabildo headquarters, Torre de Iglesia La Concepcion, and several other historic landmarks. Coming back down from a detour to La Laguna it was a similar story as the new arrivals dominated the skyline.

There’s a big protest movement to resist the drillings and Canary Island government calls for a referendum. The vote would have no legal power but it’s hoped a show of the strength of feeling may force a change of mind from Madrid, the Balaerics succeeded in seeing off the oil prospectors in their waters. For now though visitors will have to be more creative to find camera angles that show off the beauty of Santa Cruz without unsightly intruders.

For a relatively small beach they were certainly packing it in at Puerto Colon, the large inflatable icebergs were being swarmed over by eager young children and the sea was full of swimmers taking a cooling dip. But it was the fourth International Beach Water polo Tournament that had attracted me along the coast on a baking hot afternoon.

The floating court was set up on the far side of the bay just below the old El Faro nightclub and the dance music was belting out from the small admin tent set up on the sand. Publicity for this three day event was as ever shockingly poor and few of the sun bathers basking on the beach seemed to have any idea what was taking place although a few of the ladies were showing an interest in the fit swimmers taking to the water in their team coloured budgie smugglers.

During the training games I explored the viewing options on the rocks that reach out close to the court, last year at the Water Ski Racing championships the longer stretch of rocks by the harbour wall was the place to be. I was less than graceful picking my way over the uneven boulders but somehow kept my balance. Up on the side coastal path a steady flow of walkers stopped and took a curious look at the court near the mouth of the bay.

Once it was time for the games to start I thought they would use the PA system to inform and animate the beach users but apart from a few calls to the players it was all banging tunes. Games are played with four players and a goalie on each team over two ten minute halves, the sides had extra players for substitutions but they had to tread water just outside the court while the referee stood on a nearby rock and controlled the game. It’s a fast flowing sport with plenty of goals and hard to keep track of the scoring with no announcements, but the players team coloured caps and numbers helped to keep track of those taking part.

Back on the sand most were oblivious to the action taking place, the African ladies lounged in the shade offering hair braiding and the bars and restaurants were doing a steady trade in cooling down the sun worshippers. The driving force behind the contest was CN Echeyde, based in Santa Cruz, they play in the Spanish professional league. The contest was an ideal time to push their sport and maybe recruit some more players and fans but there wasn’t much there to encourage any of the curious. The action goes on through Saturday until 8pm and concludes on Sunday from 9 am until the grand final at 2 pm. I will be back for more and to see if it captures the imagination of the public and stirs them from their sun beds.

Hermano Pedro didn’t blink a stoney eyelid as his Arona town hall forecourt slowly began filling up with fired up rally cars. The church of San Antonio Abad remained majestic and unmoved as marshals cordoned off the Plaza del Cristo de La Salud. It takes more than the advent of the Subida Arona to La Escalona uphill race to ruffle this proud old town that is the spoke at the centre of the municipality’s administrative wheel.

I have used it many times in the past as a gateway to the fantastic walks that reach high up into the surrounding hills but took a little time this visit to wander around and breathe in the history. The 25 minute bus trip up from Los Cristianos is always a pleasure as the roads wind their way through La Camella and La Sabinita. The views out over the coast of Arona were a little hazy in the low oppressive cloud but their beauty shone through. I walked down the hill a little to a track overlooking thee barranco where the sound of cool gurgling water piped was the only noise. Back up near the bridge over the busy TF 51 I loitered a while in the Plaza Don Antonio Correa Rodriguez, an island of greenery with a volcano like fountain in the centre, surprisingly restful so near to the rushing traffic on the main road to Vilaflor.

Arona is a small town but tightly packed with a nice blend of the old and more recent housing, there’s hardly any employment there apart from the Ayuntamiento (council) and a few shops so it tends to empty out in the working day. Following another track out to the well signposted walking trails I could see the challenging side view of Roque del Conde, an old friend of mine along with Ifonche and both well overdue another hike. Another detour took me up to the old wash house of Los Lavaderos, now obsolete as concrete encased pipes feed the mountain water to more modern collecting points.

Back in the church square and the feeder streets the cars were assembling for checking, a day ahead of the two day event. All shapes and sizes were ready to release their inner tiger, this Alfa Romeo 156 2.0 of Garcia and Duran looked sleek and a born winner but sport loves an underdog. Like the annual fiestas, the race is something that catches the imagination of all Arona folk, young and old, many were stealing admiring glances at the machines as the bars revved up for a good weekend of takings.

I headed back down to the bus stop with time to cast an eye over the rather stark and modern Plaza La Paz opposite. It looks like a modern leisure area but gives a big tip of its hat to the origins as a replacement for the towns original cemetery. The large archway hints back at the old entrance and the shallow levels are marked out to represent the lay out of the 1840 site. The current layout was opened in 2011 long after the old cemetery relocated just down the hill to Montaña Frias, a small settlement clinging to a prominent hill. I passed that on my return bus as I made plans to return soon for some hill walking exercise.

Forget the little flakes staring up at you from a small round tin, this was the daddy of the tuna armada. When the chefs cut it open and showed a cross section of the body I was licking my lips like a starving moggy, tuna and salad cream sarnies were always my lunch break favourites at school. Best of all this monster of a fish was just a bit part player in the presentation of Granadilla de Abona’s Pescado Azul promotion. Blue fish don’t make naughty undersea DVD’s, but they are more oily around the muscles than the many other species that land up in the one year old Lonja Pesquera fish market in Los Abrigos.

Ask anyone in Tenerife where to get the best fish dishes and they will point you in the direction of Los Abrigos, a fabulous village just 30 minutes bus ride away from Los Cristianos. It looked beautiful and serene when I arrived early morning, several of the restaurants were advertising their special menus for the promotion that runs until 6 July and the Calle La Marina walk down to the quayside was dotted with a few people taking the air and enjoying a coffee.

The marquee area at the waters edge was bustling with activity as a stage cum kitchen was set up, tables were placed at discreet intervals, and bottles of locally produced wines were chilling in bowls of ice. It all got underway once the team of local chefs arrived with Juan Carlos Clemente taking charge as they unloaded the star tuna from its icy packed coffin and onto the worktop. Once the cutting up started I noticed a few guests faces going a little pale around the gills, thankfully we didn’t get something like the opening sequence on Quincy.

I never realized that a tuna could yield so many cuts of meat, they were all marked out for us, but then I was always puzzled how fish had fingers and cod had balls. As all this went on, the guest chefs cooked up some sample temptations using various sauces and spices and when they were finished the storage racks were raided for trays full of interesting earlier creations that the waiters passed around. My favourite was the Albondigas (meat balls) made from tuna in a tangy sauce. It would have been rude of me not to try the Granadilla de Abona wine that was being offered around, there didn’t seem to be any pint glasses so I settled for the smaller pourings of white and red, both impressed me.

The promotion runs until 6 July in El Medano and Chimiche as well as in Los Abrigos with a total of 10 restaurants offering special meals built around blue fish, mackerel, sardines, and chicharros are also included. If fish really is good for the brain I live in hope that my mornings nibbles might knock a few years wear and tear off my gray matter.

Some might call it an ill wind that has brought some good and some would say it’s a welcome wind of change but either way Avenida de Londres is the new home (at least for now) of the Los Cristianos Sunday market.
Even in the less scorching winter months the popular collection of around 600 stalls at the Los Tarajales end of the old beach could get very claustrophobic and sweaty. Rumblings of discontent from the Arona Ayuntamiento grew louder until the original market was shut down on Sunday 8 June 2014. There were so many diverse objections pitched up you could be forgiven for thinking the council just wanted it closed no matter what. The trading area had reportedly spilled out over the original boundaries, there were health and safety issues over access, and inadequate toilet facilities, so the council claimed.

After the closure many doubted it would return but a lot of hard work and lobbying by the organizers, including a demo outside the town hall, brought a swift compromise and last week (15 June) it reopened at short notice a short walk away going up the hill between the two roundabouts beside Victoria Court. So with the second week under way I nipped down for a look around, the first thing I noticed coming down the hill was an ambulance and a cluster of mobile toilets, clear signing, and wide spaces between the rows of stalls. It seems it would not just be the traders breathing easier.

For those who haven’t indulged, it’s pretty standard fare, cheap replica fashion and sports clothes, watches, electronic gadgets, hats, and more Aloe Vera than you can shake a plant at. Everybody loves a bargain, particularly in these hard times, and it’s also the thrill of the chase, elbows working overtime as some good old fashioned rummaging takes place. I expected to see bargain bins of Spain and England World Cup souvenirs, you probably couldn’t give them away now. It was so nice to be able to stroll up and down the stalls with room to perform a lavish musical number if you so wished. The breeze was very welcome and down each side there were breaks in the stalls so people could dip out at easily to grab the shade of the palm trees.

Each intersection was clearly marked, there were market officials identified by their t-shirts to offer help, and one of the nearby apartment blocks was doing a roaring trade in cold drinks and snacks. I spoke to a few friends who were working stalls and they were pleased with the new set up, some of them must have sweated pounds off at the old site. They also told me that pretty much all of the former stall holders had got themselves a new pitch.

The only cloud on the horizon is the uncertainty, they have a provisional agreement for 6 months but there is still talk of returning to base camp or being closed again. With less than a year to go until the local elections, councilors are trying to be all things to all people, and will be keen to please the various nationalities working the stalls and also keep local bars and restaurants happy with their big boom day of the week. For now though it looks like an improvement to an outsider like me, you can check it out for yourself from 9 am to 2 pm every week.

Even that big blue wobbly thing called the sea has its moods and stages, I try to keep an eye on the Tenerife coast as there are always subtle changes going on. This week my travels centered on the south east part of the island and as always, it was a pleasure.

There are still plenty of places to explore so I finally got around to checking out Abades to Poris, a section I regularly pass on the bus to Santa Cruz. It looks quite and sleepy from the TF1 motorway partially due to the abandoned church that is highlighted against the sea beyond. I found it had plenty to offer during a two hour visit that included the old leper colony and the Punta Abona lighthouse. There’s an in depth look coming soon, and I’m sure I will going back to dig a little bit deeper.

Los Cristianos is my home and it’s easy to slip into the same daily route so it was good to swing out a little wider past Los Tarajales beach, the promised makeover has been a running joke for at least 15 years. There’s not much wrong with it, we need a raw, wild beach, Las Vistas and Los Cristianos beaches are more than enough to hold all the sun and sand lovers. Standing on the rough shingle beach near Montaña Guaza I could appreciate the wild beauty and the view across the main sweep of Los Cristianos. Another walk up the mountain must be on the cards soon, the views from there are wonderful.

El Medano was overdue a visit so I headed down there and as soon as I got off the bus I could see the council had been busy. The main plaza has been leveled, no more big steps, and the old stage has been removed, also the clutter at the back has been removed and new artificial grass laid to give a clear view of the sea and Hotel Medano with its pier. I nearly walked into a private office, just realizing in time that the cramped Tourist Information Office has upped sticks and settled in a bigger home at the back of the plaza. It was nearly full tide so the main beach was reduced to its smallest width of sand as the waves rolled in. I was a few days ahead of the big triathlon and showers were being set up like a car wash for swimmers to pass through after the opening 1.5 kms through the waves.

The wind has played a big part in sculpting the sandstone coves of El Medano and it was blowing strong, over at the sandy expanse of Los Balos the kite surfers were riding high and dominating over the few wind surfers. A walk round to the other side of the bay and round the headland exposed me to stronger winds at El Cabezo where I cover the World Windsurf Gran Prix each year. More work had been done here with yellow paving slabs being installed, just a little tweak but it made a difference. My stroll allowed the tide to subside a little so I could go back to Leocadio Mochado beach and into the sea from one of the coves revealed by the retreating tide. It was wonderfully refreshing as I swam to the pier and back to claim my towel and clothes, stashed on a rocky shelf. There was no doubt the old El Medano magic was still there, now where to go next week.