Touching home base, stepping up to the plate and ball park figures are nothing new to me, not because I’m an expert on baseball, but I used to work in Oxford with an accountant who constantly used that awful management speak. If your wondering, yes he was, a complete and utter one. Despite that, a visit to see Tenerife Marlins baseball team has been on my to do list for a couple of seasons, so yesterday I set off to Puerto de la Cruz to see them training.

This week has been hot and sunny after the storms of the previous weeks, a 343 Titsa bus whisked me up to Puerto in just over an hour for 7.65 euros on my bono ticket. Coming in to Puerto on the motorway Mount Teide looked magnificent coated in glistening white snow well down it’s peak, as the temperature registered 29 degrees. Tenerife Marlins play at El Burgado, just past Loro Park, a 381 bus from the temporary central bus station got me there in 5 minutes, well before the morning training session was due to finish.

My very basic knowledge of baseball comes from films like Field Of Dreams and Major League but we are lucky to have the current 5 times Spanish champions here in Tenerife. Tenerife Marlins have quite a few South American players but they have an eager crop of local youngsters making quite a name for themselves. The team management were very helpful, filling me in with background info and making sure I didn’t get my head blasted off by a stray strike. You can read my full article on Tenerife Marlins at www.tenerifemagazine.com The Marlins new season starts this Saturday 27 February at Noon in El Burgado.

Taking a leisurely stroll back into Puerto de la Cruz along the coast road overlooking Playa Jardin, I could see the beach was busy despite some big waves crashing in. Back in town I was drawn to the walkway above Playa San Telmo where tourists posed with backs to the large rolling waves, go on smile for the life insurance payout photos. With time to spare I met up with Jack Montgomery, fellow Tenerife Magazine scribe and co writer of Real Tenerife Island Drives.  A few shady drinks and a chance to put the world to rights was just what we needed in the heat of the afternoon.

I carried on my strolling, Puerto de la Cruz always looks pretty and well presented, yesterday it was in very regal form. I ended up back at the bus stops for my 5.15 pm return bus, with just enough time for a coffee in the street above the now deserted and delapidated wobbly bus station. After my slurp I asked the barman for the toilet key and he gave me a bottle opener, was this a make fun of the gormless looking tourist moment? maybe not,  a nifty flick of the flat end of the opener slipped the toilet lock, very bizarre.

The journey back south was swift eneb though this late afternoon bus calls in at both the north and south airports. The day was still lovely and sunny but even in high summer Los Rodeos north airport seems to be shrouded in low cloud, and yesterday it was almost fog like. Hammering down back onto the TF1 motorway, the sun soon emerged again lulling me into a soft snooze as I headed home to Los Cristianos after another satisfying day up north.

…sang Marc Bolan. Little did I know, swinging my flares to T Rex in the 70’s, that one day I would be banging away, like J.Arthur Rank, inside a pitch black oil storage tank. The Espacio Cultural El Tanque was the venue, the converted tank is just up from the Auditorium, and just along from El Corte Ingles and the main bus depot.

Just in case the tank isn’t strange enough they have added an old American style coach as a walkway down from the street. Once past the reception, I took the dark path up and emerged in the barely lit interiorof the tank. As my eyes adjusted I could see the 18 gongs suspended in a circle around the tank, each was picked out in a spotlight and had a drum stick complete with fluffy cod ball head, just crying out to be swung at the gong. In the centre of the circle sat a white figure covered in letters that spelt out the names of seas, the huge steel girders still thrust up towards the top of the dome, where small lights twinkled like stars.

The work is called Jerusalem by Catalan artist Jaume Plensa, I was the only person inside the tank (apart from my non living statue friend) and the whole atmosphere was eerie. I sneezed and it echoed mockingly around the metal cage, good job I hadn’t been on the curry the night before, I just had to try a gong. The drumstick was suitably sturdy and the resonant crash as it hit the metal was wonderful, I savoured the shimmering sound and waited for a rush of action but it just settled back into that dark silence. Each gong has a verse written on it from Cantar de Cantares by King Soloman, they all refer to love in various forms such as “Love Is As Strong As Death, Jealousy Is Cruel As The Grave”. You have until 21 February to experience Jerusalem, from Noon to 8pm Monday to Saturday and 11am to 2pm on Sunday, and it’s FREE.

Outside, the real world had its own bizarre offerings, it’s Carnaval time, and the previous night was the biggest celebration to date, the Cabalgata (launch procession) followed by lots of drinking and dancing. It was a subdued and quiet Santa Cruz that greeted my early arrival, but within minutes of the TITSA bus entering the city, I noticed a few hairy men in dresses lurching along on their high heels. Plaza de España was being hosed down and the lake was securely sealed off to deter anyone thinking that they had become amphibious. I headed to Parque Garcia Sanabria for my first art assignment, the Cielo/Sky Part Two exhibition.

Parents were strolling with fancy dressed children in hand, as tired clowns crashed out on the grass looking less than jolly as the hangovers kicked in. I grabbed a coffee at the park cafe and found the organiser of the exhibition that features 12 Californian artists, part of a twinning link.  Shelby Graham curator of the Mary Porter Sesnon Art Gallery in Santa Cruz, California was joined by Miriam Durango, curator of the Circulo Belles Artes a short stroll away in Calle Castillo. There’s a full article on the California connection on www.tenerifemagazine.com

After whizzing off to El Tanque I crammed in some more art at TEA – Tenerife Espacio de las Artes in Avenida de San Sebastian, a real favourite of mine. The building is as much a work of art as the exhibitions, always a joy to visit, especially as the three main halls all have new displays, but more of that at a later date. Heading back into the centre of Santa Cruz, bodies were stirring and the hair of the dog was merging into the late afternoon preperations for some rousing street concerts. Some costumes were starting to look well lived in, but the Chicharreros can always dig deep to find more Carnaval energy. I already have a return visit booked for Monday nights CD Tenerife game v Mallorca, and will be diving into next Saturdays big party day and night, there’s never a dull moment in Tenerife.

Maybe I read too much Famous Five when I was young, but I love a mystery, so when one of my fellow early morning swimmers told me of Saturday morning mystery walking trips from Los Cristianos, I was keen. Pushing storm warnings to the back of my mind, but packing a warm jumper, I was ready outside the Apolo centre at 10am and ready to roll. About 50 mature (is that diplomatic enough) walkers had gathered and the organisers Frank, revelaed that El Medano was our destination.

A few wrong turns later, our motorcade parked up in El Medano just round the point at Playa Cabezo. Looking back I could see Montaña Roja, a walk I did a few weeks ago, rising up into a grey sky, but it was warm and we set off with enthusiasm. I have never seen such a range of hiking sticks, metal ones, knobbly gnarled wood ones, collapsable ones, and some that looked like James Bonds latest weapons, I’m not keen myself, but I can see that people do find them very useful, so good luck to them.

Off we set at a leisurely pace, along the sea front, the waves were kicking up a bit and Playa Cabezo was almost deserted, noy even any of the usual kite surfers. The path veered off past the Arenas del Mar hotel and around the many new developments that have sprung up at that end of El Medano. As we neared Montaña Pelada the path steepened until we had to split into those who wanted to tackle the 228 feet climb head on, and those wanting to skirt around it. Being a reckless fool I took the direct approach, and found it surprisingly testing with smooth sandstone slabs alternating with loose rocks. As always the view from the top was worth it, the wind turbines of ITER marched down to the sea ahead of us to the east, and to the west the path led down through the national park to the sea of solar panels.

ITER (the institute of renewable energy) has been spreading out in recent years, the walk down to the edge of the protected park took us just past the other entrance point to take a snack stop on the perimeter wall by the latest ITER panels. As we waited, the party that went around the mountain joined us ready for the mush flatter walk back to the start point. In all it took us about two and a half hours, and was very enjoyable. On the final leg I discovered that one of the chaps walking was from my home city Oxford, so we took a detour dowm memory lane.

Don’t ever assume that it is just the younger generation that are plugged into technology, one of the ladies informed me that her IPod  had recorded her as taking 11,300 steps, don’t ask me how, I’m Betamax Man. Apparently 1,320 steps are one km, making our journey 8.5 kms or around 5 miles. I am officially impressed by that information. I’m sure I will be dipping into these walks again.

Famous for wine, but rich in history and culture, Tacoronte is part way between Santa Cruz and Puerto de la Cruz. I saw enough on a brief stop off a year ago to vow to return for a more in depth look. Yesterday a 40 minute 101 Titsa bus transported me from Santa Cruz to the heart of Tacoronte, to be greeted by low cloud and a cool slightly clinging feel to the air.

I love to see places where the local council show an obvious pride, Tacoronte definately ticks that box. The Information Centre offers plenty of helpful pointers and 2 walking routes, complete with good signposting and notes on the history of the main attractions. I decided to skirt the town centre, heading down to the Plaza del Cristo, where the old basalt church nestles  next to the former Convent San Agustin. The white stone of the convent contrasts the darker bell tower topped church that dates back to 1662. The plaza was framed by autumnal looking golden brown leaves on the partly bare trees, all adding to the quiet and sedate mood.

The church was suitably ornate and grand inside, a young chap with his hoodie covering most of his head, walked in and took a pew near the front and sat there in quiet contemplation. I admired the stained glass windows and old wooden rafters before popping next door to see the convent. The balconies of the courtyard looked weather beaten but the gardens were well tended, I could easily imagine the nuns gliding around the corridors on their daily duties.

Heading on down the Carretera Tacoronte-Tejina, I found a small garden, the Plaza Oscar Dominguez, dedicated to the famous La Laguna born painter. A fine example of a knarled and twisted Drago tree was encased in a metal base, open at the back and with a large key peeling back some of the covering at the side. This looked familiar, and just above the main display I noticed the old sardine tin frame, complete with key, that used to frame the door of Oscars birth house in La Laguna. Quite unusual but very fitting for a surrealist painter.

There was a double delight further down the road, a modern water based artisitc homage to the wine growers of the area, and La Alhondiga, the 1685 corn exchange. The corn exchange used to be a focal point of the town, and even though it showed its age, it had a certain dignity about it. The wine sculpture was a nice contrast, bringing together ancient and modern, water trickled between the spokes and the tall barrel shaped pole was etched with scenes of wine presses and grape harvesting. Small lights were embedded in the concrete surround, it must look quite stunning when they pick  it out in the dark.

Crossing the road, the Parque Hamilton awaited, it looked quite small from the entrance but once inside, I blossomed into a green wonderland. Again the care and dedication of the council shone through, each flower, tree and bush was clearly identified, and new stone slabs marked out the pathways. The main park is another reference to the local wine heritage, different methods of growing vines are shown from trailing the plants over low trellaces to the low circular walls built around the plants to protect them from the winds. A detailed information wall showed the advantages of each method and which islands favoured them.

Following the main path up and through the woody copses and into a lane alongside the park, I emerged back at the Plaza del Cristo, rounding off a very enjoyable couple of hours. I still haven’t done Tacoronte justice, I feel another visit is needed, this time on a sunnier day so I can head down to the coast and explore the beaches. In the meantime it was easy to catch the half hourly bus back to Santa Cruz and the chance to see the sculptures of French master Rodin, famous for The Thinker and The Kiss. You can catch up with that visit at www.tenerifemagazine.com

Where was I before I was rudely interrupted by christmas? oh yes, planning more trips and adventures. My over indulgences at christmas have shamed me into action and today I tackled another of my must do list, Montaña Roja, the red mountain in El Medano, that imposing rock at the end of the Tenerife South airport runway.

A 470 TITSA bus took me from Los Cristianos, past Los Abrigos where I jumped off at the camp site near the Playa de la Tejita beach. I had packed a snack but was pleased to find that the Cafeteria at the site had a nice cheap range of goodies, and the young lady serving would make any young man pitch his tent. The site has bungalows, or just small plots to  go native under canvas, and it’s a lovely area.

So off towards the mountain, with a slight detour to the beach just below the imposing rock face. Oh blimey, it’s a nudist beach in the far corner, weren’t those blokes ever told that it’s rude to point, wait till the sunburn kicks in tomorrow morning. I had hoped to catch some of the wildlife on this nature reserve and some of the 100 species of birds duly obliged by landing near enough for me to snap them.

The walk up to the 171 metre high peak was not too gruelling and once I found the main track it was easy to follow. It’s great to meet other people on these walks, there was a fair few about on the trail today. I heard some yodel type singing approaching me, very jolly, and saw a couple walking down, the lady providing the musical interlude. I stopped for a chat and found that they were from the extreme north of Norway, and the song is a traditional reindeer song called a joik,  from the Sami people. They said they had left behind temperatures of minus 20 and a metre of snow, I felt too ashaned to say that in the UK everything stops for a mere sprinkling.

Pushing on to the peak, I was rewarded with great views over El Medano and La Tejita beaches and way beyond into the mountains, sadly it was a bit cloudy higher up and Mount Teide was in hiding.  Finding a suitable rocky seat, I devoured my cheesey nibbles and then had a little walk around the summit. There were some people perched on the edge of a sheer drop, I was much more reticent, staying well back from the edge when taking pics. One walker came up the path with a yellow towel over his head and the peak of a baseball cap peeking out, I thought it was a giant canary and was going to shout Pio Pio Maricon but he unveiled himself just in time. There was a white pole atop of a stone stack and I was dismayed to see that it was covered in graffiti, what sort of twat hikes up a small mountain just to scribble rude messages!

The planes were in and out of Reina Sofia airport, and were so low I felt I was shaking hands with the pilot (that’s not slang for a young mans leisure activity).  Inspired by the view I set off down the path at a sprightly pace, hoping not to slip and make a show of myself, thankfully I was sure footed and quicker than on the way up. The whole return journey took just under 3 hours including rests, photos stops and detours. A good way to start the new year, now the trick is to make these walks a regular thing. For a fuller report and more photos go to www.tenerifemagazine.com

Phwoar there I was surrounded by birds, I was charming them out of the trees and they were nearly eating out of my hand – ok I’m not fooling anyone, these birds were of the feathered variety and they were in the new Katandra tree tops aviary at Loro Parque.

Todays main mission was to see the Special Orca Show at Christmas (directly from the USA) at Puerto de la Cruz’s famous park, and I was kindly extended a press entry. The 343 Titsa (strike over now) from Los Cristianos whisked me there in just over an hour, giving me time for a stroll in the town and then a walk along the seafront to Loro Parque. The weather may have behaved at football in Santa Cruz last night, but dark clouds were hovering and the sea was wild and lashing the shore.

It’s been just over a year since my last visit to Loro Parque and I was desperate to see the penguins, I have always been fascinated by them. Planet Penguin is a great setting with imitation ice flows and light settings that mimic the seasons, all my favourites were there stood to attention, waddling, grooming and diving into the water. I’m sure they find the constant stream of visitors fascinating, we must look very peculier to them through the glass.

As their little wings waved goodbye, I headed for the Oracarium, eager to see how the whale show had been updated for this special 2 week run. The show was wonderful, but the same wonderful as always, the only concessions to christmas were on the giant screen where the music was overlaid with carols and animated snowflakes decorated the film. Everyone lapped up the majestic jumps and tail splashing from these huge beautiful creatures, but I was left a little let down.

Never mind, I had yet to see the new Katandra treetops aviary that was opened in September and took the chance to plug that gap in my knowledge. Loro Parque seems bigger than it is, due to very clever design that sees it twist and turn on several levels, this skill was also employed on the design of Katandra. A large pool is enveloped by a small jungle of trees and wooden walkways that take you up among the branches where the many colourful birds  flit between their feeding bowls and nests. They are all quite tame and are quite willing to preen themselves and chatter away at close quarters. It’s a great addition to the park, a real squawking, screeching, whistling paradise.

The menacing clouds decided to do their worst just as I went to leave the park, thankfully they have a nice “Noddy” train that snakes through the streets of Puerto de la Cruz back to the seafront near the town centre, and with the protective covers strapped down, it proved pretty waterproof. I’m sure I will be back again and again at Loro Parque, the rain and time restrictions meant I didn’t get to see all of my favourites this time but I can sleep easy knowing that my penguins are cosy and cold.

A few weeks before my first christmas in Tenerife, my editor asked me to cover an event where the mayor would be unveiling his bell end. What sort of debauched island had I come to? then I saw it written down and realised it was a belen, a traditional Spanish nativity scene. Well today I headed to Santa Cruz to see more of these traditional scenes.

First stop was the Caja Canarias bank in the Plaza del Patriotismo, they hold regular art exhibitions and the belen was suitably impressive. This one featured the main castle residence of King Herod, some 13 kms south of Jerusalem, set in the rolling hills, complete with trickling streams. The sprawling hillside had the usual shepherds and of course the manger complete with animals, as carols played in the background, and the lighting faded and flared to show day and night. It’s open until 5 January from 11.30 am to 3.30 pm and 5 pm to 8.30 pm, apart from Sundays when it’s open 10 am to 1.30 pm.

Moving down into the Plaza de España and the Cabildo (government) building, and they had an interesting twist, the nativity was mixed into a traditional Canarian setting, with old farm buildings and houses surrounded by figures performing ancient crafts. The baby Jesus was being serenaded (above) by timple playing visitors. All the belens were free to view, but as always the Cabildo had a voluntary collection point to donate for local charities. The times to note here are 9 am to 3 pm, and 4 pm to 9.30 pm, except Christmas and New Year Eve’s 9am to 3 pm, and Christmas and New Years Day’s 4 pm to 9.30 pm.

At this point, with thoughts of a few new art expositions in La Laguna, I jumped on the tram and whizzed up there to have a look. The street decorations showed a bit of flair, especially in the side streets (above) , noone had resorted to a Blue Peter advent crown made with coat hangers. The former church and convent of San Augustin is now the Cabrero Pinto Institute and a great art centre, I found an interesting display of work by Ernesto Valcarcel in the main hall. Called Jugetes del Tiempo (games of time) it features deep rich textured painting on wooden backgrounds. Next door in the open air Patio de Los Cipreses, there was an unusual work , called Patrimonio, featuring life sized dummys addressing graffiti and other impromptu art. While in the main hall, a downpour had soaked the patio adding an extra quality to the work.

Time was pushing on, so it was tram time again and a return to Santa Cruz, getting off at Plaza Weyler. Heading down the Calle Castillo shopping street, I was suddenly surrounded by Shakin Stevens singing Merry Christmas Everyone, he seemed to be everywhere, finally I noticed the small speakers tucked in with the decorations strung across the street at various points, that’s good, I thought he was haunting me. At this point I noticed another belen, inside a disused shop and thought I might as well add it to my list. Another variation on the main theme awaited me inside, the scenes were all set in Santa Cruz, moving along the display I could pick many landmarks among the more biblical scenes. This one opens 10 am to 2 pm and 5 pm to 9 pm daily, except 10 am to 5 pm on the 2 big Eves and 4 pm to 9 pm on Christmas and New Years day’s.

Maybe I could just squeeze in one more stop, the ferry building is always worth a visit to see what ships are in, todat though I was lured downstairs by another art exhibition. Paintings and sculptures from the Tenerife Siglo XXI group (21st Century) had a more contemporary feel and were certainly providing a welcome distraction for waiting ferry passengers. This was one of my favourites, they were all for sale, some at outrageous prices, but good to browse.

With my camera and notebook bursting, it was finally time to head south, passing the dockside I could see the huge stage and tiered seating taking shape for the 25 December FREE classical concert with the Tenerife Symphony Orchestra from 10 pm, that will be a pretty impressive way to end Christmas Day. More details on that and other festive events at www.tenerifemagazine.com

I’m sure the girls room was all sweetness and lavender, but in the lads Madrid hotel rooms there was snoring on the richter scale, so I did well to hear the early morning knock on the door. I was just at the dream stage where Sue Barker was about to ravish me, and a glance at my watch showed it was 10am and all thoughts of an early start had evaporated.

At 30 euros a  night our rooms didn’t include breakfast but a nice coffee and bakery cafe next door did the job. Sluggish was the word of the morning, so as the girls hit some more museums, and The General chilled out, 4 of us walked up into the city centre, braving the cold. It took us just over an hour but we took our time and savoured the delights of the city. Atocha station (above) proved to be very distracting, a huge indoor garden included turtles playing in the pond and a few suitable statues for us to pose with. Heading up the road, we saw the Villareal team out for a stroll in their team tracksuits, they were playing Athletico Madrid later that night, but with the TV cameras following them, we couldn’t resist showing our colours and singing a few Tenerife songs, hope we made the news reports.

Madrid is a very arty vibrant city, there was a big market on at Parque del Retiro, but we pushed on to near the centre as our beer taste buds were tingling. The Cathedral restaurant bar beckoned us in with its warm historic allure, what a lovely place, big, ornate and grand, we settled at the bar and tucked into the bottles of San Miguel, each round was accompanied by a plate of tapas – hmm we could get quite comfortable here. Time sipped by and we had to head down to Atocha station to meet the others and take the 10 minute mainland train to Getafe, a mere 1.35 euros each. What a dump of a place, like an old industrial estate, with an anoying lack of open bars, we crossed the wastelands and eventually found the stadium to buy our 40 euros (rip off) tickets. Thankfully with 90 mintues to go to kick off and the temperature plunging, we found some other CDT fans and tracked down a nice warm bar with a very welcoming barmaid, honestly I was only looking at here bar nibbles.

Into the game and we joined the 300 CDT fans on the freezing terrace, the ground was very open and we were just behind one goal. The game followed a familiar pattern, Tenerife dominating much of the early play but failing to make it pay, Nino went close on the half hour and Richi put the ball in the net only to have it ruled offside – well it was – just. Of course it came back to haunt Tenerife, a few minutes later Sergio failed to hold a cross and Albin bundled the ball in the net for a home lead.

Another mistake in the second half effectively killed the game, Manolo Martinez tried to take on a Getafe forward instead of clearing the ball and let Albin in for an easy second. Oltra tried his subs and Juanlu, fresh on for Richi, pounced on a home mistake after good work from Nino, to make it 2-1. Tenerife were running out of time but tried hard, the fans continued to spur them on, at least it was a way of keeping warm, but the game was gone.

There were some moments of light relief, when the ball went out of play into a netted moat, a young lad had to fish it out with a net, of course we didn’t make fun of him or give him any abuse – well not much. Trying to get our blood moving again, we marched back to the train station, stopping off for a few beers at a bar, and then on to the city centre again for more beers and the inevitable kebabs. With a view to our 4am taxis to the airport, we headed back to the hotel and indulged in a few late cans while watching the football on tv in our rooms. The early start was tough but we managed it with time to kill at the airport, many of the Canarian lads had crashed overnight at the airport after a heavy session, but thankfully we overcame a 40 minute take off delay as blizzards swept the airport. It was so good to get back to the early morning sun of Tenerife, but I cant wait for the next away game.

Some offers are too good to miss, pre christmas Ryanair flights to Madrid for 26 euros return, to take in a CD Tenerife away, I couldn’t say no. Sitting on the tarmac at Tenerife South airport, waiting an hour for take off due to fog in the Spanish capital, wasn’t the ideal Saturday morning start, but we eventually got the ok.

I was in a group of 7 fine ambassadors from the Armada Sur,we soon found plenty of Canarian friends from the other peñas (fan clubs) some had made an early start on the booze, before boarding. Putting our watches forward an hour after the 2.5 hour flight, we bundled through Terminal 4 and found the Metro, loaded up on tickets and made a couple of changes on the way down to our hotel NH Atocha (another bargain at 30 euros a night)  near the Pacifico stop. Once we were out in the open, the cold started to bite and on went the extra layers, the remains of the fog lingered in the air, but we soon found our hotel and checked in.

Hey, we didn’t just throw this trip together, The General had sussed out that Second Division Rayo Vallecano were at home early evening, so as Kirstie and Nikki went up town to explore museums, the Freezing Five walked through the run down and strangely quiet neighbourhood, looking for bars on the way. Watering holes were scarce so we ended up at a bar near the ground, previously invaded by Tenerife fans last season. As we thawed out, the beer and tapas started flowing, it was fairly empty at first but a hoard of Numancia fans (above) descended, complete with drums and turned up the volume. We of course proudly uncovered our Tenerife colours and both the home and visiting fans were very friendly and welcoming.

Armed with our 15 euro match tickets, we grabbed a last cheeky beer opposite the entrance and took our place on the chilly terracing. Rayo is a 3 sided ground, flats are built at one end, the 11,500 crowd were pretty subdued, only breaking into song once they were 4-1 up well into the second half. We mingled a bit and tried to stop our feet from turning to ice, the Numancia fans up in the corner of one stand, did their best to life the atmosphere but lost heart as their team lost goals.

Heading back to the hotel, the streets had filled up, evening shopping seems the in thing at Rayo, we managed to resisit buying any of the tat on sale at the market stalls. Back at the hotel the girls were happy with their afternoons browsing and ready to join us for night time in the city centre. The metro system is clean and efficient and delivered us quickly to Sol, slap bang in the centre. You can never get enough football, so we found a large lively Irish bar with big screens showing the evenings games and set about demolishing a few cold Coronitas. Hunger was kicking in by this stage, so we found a big kebab restaurant, that worryingly had a huge painting of a horse on the wall-I was assured by those who indulged in a large kebab that the meat seemed true to its menu description.

Madrid is a lively and busy city, especially on a Saturday night, we had a little wander around the main square to take photos and everyone was friendly, enjoying the pre christmas lights , living art displays, and bustle. Three of our party went back to the hotel at a reasonable hour, while we headed to a rock bar, Parada de Los Monstrous,  a short metro ride away in Iglesia. The beer was reasonable, especially the 6.5 % Yuste, and we even got a seat near the DJ, so we could feed him requests for old classics like New Order, Echo and the Bunnymen,he found most of them. By 2.30am we were flaging, even though the bar was just getting going, so we piled in a taxi and back for some sleep before the big day.

How many ways can the waves meet the shore, you might as well ask how many shades and hues the sea has, or how many shapes and textures do the rocks have.  All these questions occupied my little pea brain today as I took a stroll along the coastal path from Alcala to El Varadero, on the west coast of Tenerife.

It must be at least a year since I followed this delightful route, so after a refreshing cold drink at the plaza in Alcala, I set about retracing my steps. When I worked for The Tenerife Sun from their office in this small fishing village, I would take a swim in the bay each dinner time. A couple of years ago it was given a spruce up and a protective dyke added to calm the waves, and new easier entry points were added into the water. There was a healthy number of bathers taking a dip today, and a few lone anglers perched on rocky outcrops.

Rounding the first point, the influence of the huge and luxurious Palicio de Isora Hotel is soon felt, the walkways have been widened and made safer, a good thing for walkers, but at a cost of large concreted seating areas added to please the tourists. This last long weekend was one of the major Spanish holidays and would normally have attracted a big influx from the mainland and the north of Tenerife, but this year it was very quiet. The hotel pool was hardly disturbed by a ripple, and only a handful of guests loitered around the edge, given the place a slightly eerie and empty air.

The newly sanitised area soon gave way to the more rugged path as shingle and stones guided me down the crescent bank and along the waters edge. The waves were mighty and rolling in majestically, the hot sun and blue sky meant clear views out to La Gomera, interupted only by the odd passing boat. There is a point where the shore line plunges down a little into the rock pools and I had to clamber around the edge to pick up the path again, it has a reassuring wildness to it and I could see that since my last visit some of the path edge had subsided, but there are plenty of variations to mix and match with some careful footwork.

Coming up the other side and back on wider walkways, I was in the area where campers used to descend in vans every holiday, it’s strictly illegal but enforcement was always a bit half hearted, in recent years there has been a clamp down but the tell tale tyre tracks showed that at least a few had pushed their luck. This stretch leads to Punta Blanca, a wild stretch of coast favoured by surfers, and sure enough there were a few bobbing like corks out at sea, gripping their boards and waiting for the big wave.

The land along here used to be filled with banana plantations but as prices dropped and foreign competition rose, the fields were abandoned but the sturdy plants are still standing firm in some quarters, and the old border walls are crumbling but just about holding their own. The views here are wonderful as the cliffs of Los Gigantes appear in the distance. The coastal path and the main road start to converge but there are still a few twists and turns before surfacing in El Varadero. The walk took me about an hour, going at a leaisurely pace and stopping to snap photos at every new natural wonder.