Even the oil refinery and the motorway into Santa Cruz looked attractive viewed from my lofty perch in the hills above Candelaria. It was breather time a couple of hours into the La Mesa walk from Igueste to Araya and after a false start I was having some doubts about the trail I was following.
After trying the Samarines coastal route last year I was keen to try another suggestion from the Candelaria Ayuntamiento leaflet, this time it started in an inland area I was not familiar with. An early toddle around the basilica town and I caught the 131 Titsa bus to Igueste, a local advised me to head for the cemetery thankfully it wasn’t a veiled insult, just a helpful nudge down from the final bus stop at the church to the Plaza Dimas Coello with its wine press. I thought it would be a small village but it stretched and wound along several steep streets and had a nice combination of old and new buildings. Local pride was clear from notices urging a fight against any cut back in their bus lifeline, and announcements of the Good Friday morning procession at 6 am.
The walk signs got me to the start point but I picked an old looking downward trail through a barranco and had to come back to follow the tarmac road up to the right before I could connect to the old path heading up La Mesa mountain. The multi language council leaflet was only launched last year and the route showed little sign of regular visitors. It only takes a few weeks for the plants and flowers to encroach on the trail so I had to guess a little but used the overhanging rock ahead as my direction guide. Looking back I could now see the coast winding its way up to the Tenerife capital and the city outskirts were appearing over the horizon. Once past the rock I found more shade as pine trees began to share my progress, looking out to sea Gran Canaria was prominent on the skyline.
The next landmark was the partially ruined Casa de La Mesa, one of the few original dwellings that had defied the years. The path led up and round the pine trees and was now skirting the sides of a series of barrancos, quite tough on thee legs but easy on the eyes. Scaling the brow of a hill it was reward time, the Guimar valley fell away below me with the tower of Candelaria basilica a distant coastal landmark. It was a glorious sight, low whispy cloud was like a transparent dome over the terraced hills and I could see why the valley had inspired tales of mysterious and haunted trails. After plenty of admiring I started the descent down the track, there was much more greenery here and I was soon up to my armpits in flowers and shrubs.
Araya should have been calling me but at the lower level I was strolling through vineyards and almond orchards on farm land nurtured by a strong gushing water channels. La Florida was marked on the modern service road and a quick enquiry at a garden gate told me I had veered off to the side of Araya. The motorway was in sight so I walked downwards along the TF 247 saving a lengthy wait in Araya for the sporadic bus service and I was soon on the Titsa 111 heading south. Even with the detours and snack stops it had only taken me around five hours but my feet assured me I had burst through the official 6.5 km rating. That still leaves another five Candelaria routes to try, they will have to be very special to match La Mesa.