Grain by grain, petal by petal, families came together to piece together this years stunning collection of street carpets in the heart of La Orotava. Not even an unusually cloudy and moist day could dampen the enthusiasm of the annual devotion to the Corpus Christi celebrations. The huge central tapestry in the Plaza del Ayuntamiento had already been completed over 55 days with coloured sand and now the streets were being transformed into a blaze of colour like a living jigsaw.

Leaving the scorching south of Los Cristianos early I headed to Puerto de la Cruz on the 343 Titsa bus, I thought it would be packed with other carpet baggers but it was only half full. Reading the paper I saw that flights had been diveted the previous day from Los Rodeos airport in the north of Tenerife and as is so often the case the cloud got lower and thicker as the bus reached it, worse than I have seen for a long time. It was better into Puerto but swapping onto a La Orotava link of 10 minutes it got thicker again and was almost chilly when I got out. There was a good stream of people heading for the heart of the town but I thought there was more tatt and stalls on sale than at my last carpet trip 2 years ago.

Soon I was stood behind two short nuns shuffling up the stairs of the Ayuntamiento (council)  building to get a view from the balconies of the main display in the plaza below. Some one trod on my sore toe during the jockeying for a good position, I uttered one rude word in English, thankfully the nuns were oblivious, I didn’t want to start a religious outrage so early in the day. The tapestries were as awesome as ever and at first glance you would think they were painted rather than made with millions of grains of coloured sand placed over a template. The streams of visitors below looked endless and the sky still looked grey but I could see some people up the tower of the church and made a mental note to try to scale that vantage point myself. Everyone was so enchanted with the plaza carpets they paid little attention to the splendour of the council chambers, glittering chandeliers, expensive looking paintings and religious sculptures all jostled for my interest but they were not the stars today.

Back out on the street I joined the slow march upward along one pavement as other passed back on the other side, all admiring the developing masterpieces on the road between. The main plaza is always completed in advance and the surrounding streets on the big day, many families have been involved for several generations and it was good to see young children learning the craft at their parents sides. Wooden frames are used for guidance but the measuring out and sprinkling of dried petals and sand is a skillful process that is carried out with precision. I tried to be tactful as I took photos and avoided making too many large bottoms semi famous. The streets wound round and down again towards the Church of the Concepcion  so I went inside to marvel at the structure and decoration of the church that was built in 1788.

Just like 2 years ago some young boys were left to guard the locked door up to the tower and were only letting family through, looked like they had a huge family, I offered to marry their sister but they didn’t go for that and I never got my birds eye view. Back outside their was definately fine drizzle in the air but it didn’t make much difference to the celebrations as people began to dance to guitars and drums. The day would stretch on for a lot longer until the evening procession marched all over the hard work and destroyed the carpets, no one minds their achievements have already been recognised. Another tradition is being passed on in safe hands.

To a thirsty football fan the white domes of the Oasis restaurant mean a welcome beer stop half way up the TF1 motorway to Santa Cruz. During the season I stop there every 2 weeks in the company of the Armada Sur as we go to worship CD Tenerife but I have never gone down below the Oasis to check out Los Roques a small historic village that is hoping for a revivial in fortunes.

The recent elections have brought a new mayor for Fasnia the region where Los Roques is situated, and Damien Perez has vowed to restore this area to its sparkling rugged best. I headed down the winding road to the coast below and found a choice awaited me, to the north Playa del Abrigo and to the south Playa de Los Roques. Taking the Playa del Abrigo path I soon got the full benefit of the large dark sand and shingle bay, on a scorching day with lively waves there were just two people bathing on the beach. Walking to the far end I looked across the beach to the two rocks that give the area its name, the largest is attached to the mainland and the second is a small volcanic spit a few yards away.

Tucked in behind the main rock are the Bahia Apartments, an early attempt to atrract tourism, built in 1964 they look run down now but it looks like there are still people living there. Moving closer I could see a neglected swimming pool near the beach and a blocked pathway where the sea laps close at high tide. There used to be a passage way through here linking the two beaches and the new mayor intends to restore this and improve the main beach. On this side of Los Roques there are some modern new apartmenrts and houses, the regeneration of Los Roques seems to have been a very sporadic affair. Looking up I could see the empty local opposite the Oasis, it has been a work in progress for around four years and is partly fitted out as another restaurant and bar, the views from the terrace would give an uninterrupted vista of the beachand the roaring sea.

Back tracking up the hill and taking the other path to Playa de Los Roques I found a much more traditional fishing village that had clearly seen better times. On this other side the old village is pressed against the base of the rock and includes a small church. In it’s day this was a busy area, a large cave of salt deposits Cuevea de La Sal was used to preserve and prepare potatoes for a sea crossing to Gran Canaria. A closer view of the smaller rock revealed that it was teaming with bird life, this is such a vibrant stretch of the coast. A large levelled area makes a handy natural car park, maybe at weekends people flock down to swim at the main beach but somehow I feel it is still a hidden gem.

The Oasis above is just a baby, born in 1998, but is a well visited stop off point. It’s strange to think that most people popping in to quench their thirst are unaware of the splendour of the landscape that unfolds just below. Hopefully the mayor will fulfill his promises and restore some pride to Los Roques.

All dressed up an nowhere to walk, well not strictly true; I rarely dress up but had made some dainty cheese rolls and loaded up with water ready for a Saturday morning walk. Sadly only 2 people showed at the usual Apolo centre start point and they took the hint to do something else but with my toes twitching I headed down to Playa de Callao at the market end of Los Cristianos to renew acquaintance with Montaña Guaza.

Probably the toughest part of this walk is the steep tight twisting path that looks a lot easier from down below. Once I got on the staircase I was reminded of how hard and angular the surface is and how some of the looser stones tend to shift below the feet. A few water swigs later I had reached the top and was up onto the plateau with the flat dry grassy fields stretching out ahead of me. The sun was playing hide and seek behind grey clouds but Los Cristianos was waking up nicely down at sea level and a slight breeze was very welcome.

I walked out to the plateau edge just above the stairs and noticed a small wooden cross and a photo of an old couple tucked into a pile of large rocks. Maybe they were keen walkers or the family just wanted them to have a peaceful resting place with a clear view of their favourite places panning out in the distance. There are tyre tracks on the paths, a reminder that the transmitter masts at the peak receive regular visits from maintenance crew. Years ago there were tobacco and tomato plantations up on the level floor stretching from the cliff tops, old stone walls remain but the only crops are short red tabaiba plants making a colourful carpet.

There are several route options, usually I head up to the aerials and the peak but this time decided to head outwards to the cliffs to find the path that skirts along the edge. As I neared the cliff the silence was broken by the screech of seagulls and the lovely view was spoilt by the sight of a cluster of fish cages, what a curse they are around our shores. Taking the undulating path it dipped inland and down into the remains of a stone quarry, lots of quarrying went on at Montaña Guaza and some of the stone hewn out here was used to build the Rasca lighthouse that is visible from Los Cristianos.

When I’m out enjoying a testing walk I have to watch out for the smug zone, that point where I think I’m doing well taming nature and pushing back the frontiers. Thankfully this is usually countered by the appearance of an oncoming jogger or cyclist, this time it was a young lady walking her dog with a cool relaxed air about her as she exchanged pleasantries with the blond ball of sweat panting along the path – another bubble burst.

Up a steep quarry side and I was at a great vantage point looking down on Palm Mar, I stopped and scoffed my warm curly rolls here very aware of the hungry seagulls wheeling in overhead. There is a route down into Palm Mar but I headed back inland looking for the path home, the masts in the distance reminded me of the route up to the peak but the cliff top walk had distracted me enough for one day. The paths weren’t so clear now but I headed towards some old stone cottages knowing that would lead me back on track, and it did the trick.

Taking a well worn driving track alongside the old plantations I soon found myself back at the stairway down and began a cautious descent. Going down could be even more tricky that the up walk but soon the familiar coast drew level with me and I was back on firm ground with another 3 hours plus of exercise done, time for a cold drink.

What a nice morning greeting In Vilaflor, the statue of Hermano Pedro gazing across the quiet entry junction and a cockerel crowing his little voice box out in the distance. Driving up from Los Cristianos the temperature had dropped about 6 degrees and the air was cool, perfect for walking. It’s about time I got my lazy bones moving and sampled the walking trails again so I had met up with one of the regular Saturday morning groups armed with a back pack of smelly sarnies, bottled water, and my camera.

There were 8 and a half of us (including Ellie the dog) and we learnt a lesson from a previous trip out this way, this time parking low down where the TF-21 heads into Vilaflor and then walking uphill to the start point just above the village. That meant although we started with a tough uphill hike it wouldn’t be waiting to punish us later on.

The tajinaste plants were firing up nicely, the red colouring seeping up the tall stalks ready to devour the green tips resisting the advance of summer. All was very quiet and calm despite being a popular tourism area and just a few young voices rose from the football ground as we headed past and onto the opening of the trail. Moving up along the uneven path the pine trees soon rolled out below but the view was slightly obscured by the low cloud. On the plus side the air was cool and fresh, very welcome given the steepness of the rise. It didn’t take us long to stray from the path over a small assault course of rocks but the sight of the old iron water pipe up above drew us back to the main route.

Taking the tight meandering path we soon found ourselves at a large clearing near a rocky ledge peering down into a valley of pine trees. The wisps of cloud hanging in the air softened the impact of the drop but I still kept a safe distance from the edge. From there it was a downward trend at first on small furrows that later turned into clearly marked and maintained walkways, all of them through okra red dusty soil. The paths dropped steeply in places and tight corners really tested the grip of our footwear but we avoided any falling over.

Natures amazing rock sculptures and twisted fire tinged trees were a constant distraction, in places new channels had been carved by the heavy rains of a few weeks ago but the landscape seemed to just shrug off the worst weather as and when it intruded. We stopped at a large reservoir to have snacks and draw breath before another upward turn, there were a few choices of direction ahead but after a bit of back tracking we found the route we wanted that brought us up to a small cottage. The Finca Tabaluga has solar panels and a water butt to make it almost totally self sufficient, last trip I met the German owner but this time it was locked up, an idyllic setting but very remote.

The final stretch seemed easier, probably because we knew the end was in sight, a last big uphill hike and we were back out on the main road close to our start point. The cloud hadn’t burnt off and the air was still cool with the odd fleck of moisture, in all it had taken 4 hours that had sped by. Vilaflor always has plenty to offer, there are several other walks and variations close to hand but even under a cloudy veil this had been quite spectacular and rewarding.

Snorting, grunting and oinking he stuck his head deep in the bucket and devoured every last morsel. Maybe I’m talking about my breakfast routine, maybe about the rare Canarian Black Pig at Agrocanarias in Santa Cruz, or maybe both! For me it was a day to get far away from British TV and bunting, so with a notebook crammed with events I caught the early 111 Titsa bus up to the capital from Los Cristianos.

First stop was Plaza de España to delve below and taste some history around the old remains of Castillo de San Cristobal. The surviving fragments of the old castle wall were re-discovered when the plaza was rebuilt in 2006 and now make a nice free dip into the beseiged past of the city with pride of place going to the Tigre (tiger) canon that shot Nelson and stopped his invasion in its tracks. The developers have done a nice job of bringing the maritime past to life and with commentary and information in English as well as Spanish it’s an overlooked but fascinating insight into a British naval hero.

I have been meaning to see the Frans Lanting photo exhibition Vida, Un Viaje A Traves Del Tiempo since the 28 March opening so when I surfaced to a sprinkling of rain the Caja Canarias exhibition hall in Plaza del Patriotismo seemed an appropriate next call. The Dutch photographer is a master of wildlife shots and has filled the pages of National Geographic with some stunning photos. This exhibition is a journey through time starting from the creation of the Earth and through the evolution of life from volcanoes in Hawaii to Quiver trees in South Africa and sand dunes in Australia. Each dramatic photo comes with explanations in Spanish and English including the equipment and technique used to get the snap. It’s open until 30 June, Mon to Weds 11 am to 1 pm and 5 pm to 9 pm, Thurs & Fri 11 to 1 and 5 to 8, Sat 11 to 2 and 5 to 8, it’s 5 euros to get in, 2 euros for residents, and free for Caja Canarias account holders.

A short walk up to Parque Garcia Sanabria and the Feria of flowers, plants, and local customs was just getting underway, finishing on Tues 3 May. It’s a beautiful park at any time but now its long leafy walks that centre on the fountain and performance area were lined with stalls offering loads of goodies. Friday was not a holiday in Spain and that with the dodgy weather meant it wasn’t very busy but with live music and childrens entertainment to come over the long weekend it would certainly pick up. Off the main paths there are ponds, sculptures, waterfalls, kids play areas and lovely picnic zones. Trade was slow at the stalls but I did my bit by buying a home made chocolate cake and a tasty lemon cake, a few people were buying floral displays and the crafts like basket weaving and cigar making attracted a few curious visitors. My old complaint rung true again, there were posters around the park and stacks of programmes on all the stalls but it wasn’t advertised outside of the event, when will they learn. It’s only a few minutes walk from Plaza de España or Plaza Weyler and the key times are 11 am to 2 pm and 5 pm to 9 pm each day, free entry.

Heading to the other end of Santa Cruz the Recinto Ferial exhibition hall was my target for Agrocanarias, not a gathering of football hooligans but a massive showcase for all the best in agriculture from across the 7 Canary Islands. Just 3 euros for this one and I barely had time to pass through the doors before being offered free biscuits and sweets, preperation for the goodie bags and samples being handed out at some of the 83 stalls on the 16,000 square metre site. The emphasis is on trade interest but there is something for everyone, the Canarian cooking championships were due to conclude later that day in the multi kitchen area, Masterchef with local ingredients. A parade of tractors and digging machines gleamed to the side of me and the little ditty  I can’t read and I can’t write but it don’t really matter because I come from Oxfordshire and I can drive a tractor sprung into my head but I kept it to myself.

Moving down through the hall I picked at cheese samples and sipped the odd taster of wine, a horse was being limbered up in the show jumping ring and just beyond that was the livestock section and those lovely black pigs, straight tails not a curl in sight. OK lets get the giggle fest out of the way up front, there were bullocks, rams, and rampant cocks on display, the docile donkeys were a big attraction for parents to lift their kids close to stroke them. I felt sorry for the cows, sheep and bulls they all looked very sad, maybe they knew what the future held for them, several flared their nostrils and stamped hooves when I got near, well I had recently enjoyed meat balls. The show finishes on Sunday but there are some great events held at the Recinto Ferial and with a balcony cafe bar and a restaurant it’s a good place to visit.For me that was my list exhausted and time to return south, a great day out and not a royal in sight.

The fair may have moved on from the Tenerife capital Santa Cruz but there is a new white knuckle ride in town, the City Sightseeing tour bus or Guiri GuaGua as the locals refer to it. My friends Neal and Karen, the Bournemouth section of the Armada Sur may never forgive me for dragging them onto the first of 2 days of free rides on the bus to launch the new tourism service.

Basically it’s a 40 minute round trip of points of interest in Santa Cruz with 11 stops. Aimed at visitors for a adult price of  9.99 euros (6 euros residents) you can hop on and off at any stop over a 24 hour period. The company operates similar buses in many countries including mainland Spain and it soon became clear on our trip that there was no local knowledge. We got on at Plaza de España, Neal and Karen downstairs to avoid more scorching sun and me and my camera upstairs with a sprinkling of multi national passengers. Plugging the licourice red free earphones in and selecting English from the 8 languages  we were off into Avenida de Anaga and there were a few squeals as overhanging branches raked a few hair styles. The commentary seemed well informed but I pulled my plugs out, partly to let me move easier and partly because the twinkly classical music was cracking me up.

At first I thought the constant blasts on car horns were just normal Canarian banter but the upstairs attendant was looking over the side with quite a bit of concern and as we circled Parque Garcia Sanabria for a third time I started to pay a little more attention to the road ahead. Avenida de Vienticinco de Julio, part of the scheduled route was tight, very tight, with more tree interferance on our upper deck and I was now aware of some angry shouting from the street below. My mobile rung and I was surprised to hear it was Karen  “we’re lost and think we should get off quickly”   made me check the route on the leaflet and look out from the bus to see the old bull ring looming up, yep we were well off course.

Scrambling downstairs I had the gaps filled in for me, we had nearly knocked a resting pedestrian off a concrete roadside bollard and scraped the bus against another bollard. That had prompted a change of driver, with the original joining the 3 other staff in frantic gestering from the leaflet map to street signs and back again, they didn’t have a Scooby Doo. Earlier when I told my footie loving pals that the bus went by places of interest they suggested CD Tenerife’s stadium, I had laughed and reminded them it was way off course but now here we were turning into Avenida San Sebastian with the floodlights of our place of worship just ahead of us. We managed a quick wave as we passed our matchday bar just down the hill from Soccer HQ. Blimey what an adventure, I had started out feeling like Cliff Richard in Summer Holiday and now I fellt like Keanu Reeves in Speed.

By now even the mainly tourists upstairs had twigged that all was not going to plan and several had filed downstairs hoping to escape the Magical Mystery Tour. As we headed out of town and then looped back along the sea front by the Auditorium an hour had passed so we belted out an S.O.S on the bell and got off outside El Corte Ingles, we didn’t want to risk  heading back to Plaza de España. I clocked the damaged paint work as I got off, not bad for the first day, there are actually 5 buses working the route so maybe they will soon all have matching chips. A bit of forward planning would have served the bus company well, surely they should do “the knowledge” and find out about traffic priorities and where they are supposed to be going. Only this morning there was a photo in the local paper of another car tapping on the door of a tram with its front bumper, now we can add tour buses to the equation.

Of course the tour buses will learn to fit in and the taxi drivers will warm to them and greet them with polite phrases and dainty finger gestures. Look out for the big red monsters in the capital, you can get all the info about routes, service etc at their website. For me it’s another tale to tell of life in Santa Cruz – just when I thought I had seen everything.

There was a momentous event at Los Cristianos bus station on Thursday as a crowd of dignitaries gathered, not just the fact they didn’t get their pockets picked but also the arrival of 2 new micro buses, ready to improve their excellent services. Regular readers will know that I’m a big fan of Tenerife’s public bus service, I’ve got a bono ticket in my pocket and I’m not afraid to use it.

For the technically minded the 2 newcomers are 27 seaters and state of the art with all mod cons and of course zero emissions – except when I get on after a curry. One bus will see service on the 468 route that came in last year running a circular service linking Parque La Reina, Las Galletas and Palm Mar. Theses buses will now run more often and take in extra rural stops at Las Rosas, Guargacho, Orotianda, Guaza, El Fraile, Costa del Silencio and La Canada. The other bus is specially adapted for those with limited mobility and will run on the 110 direct route to Santa Cruz.

And talking of Santa Cruz, the 110 will now run on weekends and fiestas giving a speedy alternative to the 111 Santa cruz to Playa de las Americas. For full listings pick up a new booklet timetable, the old fold out map versions have been overtaken by subtle tweaks to timings on many routes. Otherwise you could check out the new improved website which gives you several ways to track your bus via your phone.

I mentioned the pick pocket plague before, plain clothes police at Los Cristianos have made a big impact, please still be careful, but on a trip up west on Friday I heard several reports oif our light fingered friends doing their Fagin impression around Los Gigantes. Happy travelling and Keep Em Peeled as Shaw Taylor (ask your Gran) would say.

There was no early church service for the Armada Sur, honest we would have, it was mid morning as we emerged from our after celebration slumbers, you can’t let a 2-1 away win in Salamanca go unmarked. First shock of the day, if you ignore the horrendous hangovers, was finding that Gordon (AKA The Moron) had fallen over (damm unsteady those local streets) the night before and had paid a visit to the hospital for 4 stitches above his eye. That was in the second group across town, myself and Andy did a zombie walk down the road from the hotel for a coffee at a service station but both found a chocolate pastry too much to stomach and left them part chewed. At least we managed a chuckle as we found a bizarre statue to pose with, clearly someone had more warped minds than us.

The General turned up in reception looking like Keith Richards on a bad day and we headed into town to meet the others, obviosly we didn’t mock our injured comrade Gordon in any way at all, even if he looked like Rocky 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. All safely gathered aboard the trusty mini bus we set off for Madrid with a half way stop at Avila penciled in. There had been some suggestion of taking in a Tercera Division game in the small historic town but with an eye on seeing the Chelsea v Liverpool game in Madrid we just took a meal break.

Avila is stunning, a medieval fortress wall embraces the town and after food we drove inside the battlements and had a quick poke around the plaza (above) and cathedral. One of the big pluses of popping over to CD Tenerife away games is the chance to taste some of Spain’s history, the cathedral was built in 1095 and is surrounded by a pride of stone lions. Looking up to the buttress’s I could see and hear large storks that had nested on the turrets, they were huge, no use offering them a bag of crumbs and a bit of bacon fat, they looked capable of swooping down and stealing a small child – we kept a close eye on The General.

The wheels of the bus were soon going round and round again as we neared Madrid close to kick off on the TV game, The General headed to the hotel after dropping us off near a Metro (underground)  station. It just happened to be by Real Madrid’s impressive Bernabeu Stadium,  DJ Johnny looked a little conspicuous in a CD Tenerife track suit top but it was several hours before Madrid’s home game with Real Sociedad – and no I wasn’t even tempted to go. Madrid is a great city and the Metro is just one euro for any journey, we had to change at Tribunal and Johnny our resident scouser peeled off to watch the match with the Madrid Reds at their Cavern look alike, The Tavern. The rest of us emerged at Sol, the city centre Metro stop and took the side street to our regular haunt the O Connell Street  Bar, a big popular sports bar where the order of the day is a bucket of Coranita beers packed in ice and large baskets of crisps to tuck into.

Liverpool’s win merged into another victory for the local white menace, then with a ridiculously early wake up in mind and Johnny back with a contented look on his face, we adjourned to the local kebab house for a suitably greasy nosh up. This is another part of the Madrid ritual in a food house that features a large painting of a horse on the wall – they didn’t did they? Time for a bus back to our Hotel Torre Laguna, and like the Metro the bus was also just one euro. I grabbed a couple of late beers at the bar before kipping down for just over 3 hours only to rise like a zombie for our return trip to the airport to return the minibus and pile onto the plane. A gorgeously sunny Tenerife morning welcomed our return to the island blinking in the light like pit ponies that hadn’t gone to Specsavers. Good company, good fun and good grief a win, now for the rest of the season.

Encouraged by the Icod esperience my Bournemouth friends Karen and Neal were ready for another TITSA bus tour of Tenerife, flicking through my memories I realised it was at least 3 years since I had been to Granadilla so it seemed a good a destination as any. Meeting in Los Cristianos the sun was bright and Roque del Conde stood proud as it gazed down upon us with its light and dark patchwork of colours. The 470 bus was bang on time and only half full so off we set along the TF1 motorway with generous diversions down into Guaza, Costa del Silencio and through Los Abrigos before heading up through San Isidro.

It was noticeable cooler at Granadillabut still bright and the quiet sedate streets oozed charm against the Villaflor and teide backdrop. Hermano Pedro the Canaries is never far from the thoughts in his home municipality and outside the town hall at the Plaza Gonzalez Mena his bust reminds people of his heritage. It’s weird but the town hall building was being white washed, I’m sure they had just started it on my last visit, well its nice to be thorough. The tight streets of Granadilla were decorated for christmas with minimal trimmings but also an impressive series of festive themed paintings on the end of each terrace of shops. Heading out to the main church od San Antonio de Padua we saw a handfull of hikers, Granadilla is a popular springboard to the walking trails above and beyond and a great advert for rural tourism.

A couple of clouds ganged up on us and sprayed us with rain through some watery sunshine so we adjourned to a nice cosy bar. The walls were covered with old photos of the local area and some more recent ones reminded me that the snows of Mount Teide reached down into the plaza here just 5 years ago, probably the nearest it gets to the coast, just glancing distance below. The rain soon dried up and we carried on our exploring, I was hoping to find the old spring that fed the town with water but it proved elusive, I was hoping it was the secret fountain of youth, I could do with some of that. Walking to the other end of town the views down to Montaña Roja, El Medano and the heavily laden orange trees in between were wonderful and added to the quiet beauty of Granadilla.

Next stop was El Medano for some beach life, the bus flew down with the odd bit of sudden breaking keeping us alert in our seats on the 30 minute journey. The weather was glorious in El Medano, kite and board surfers shot the waves, sunbathers crammed into every spare spot and the promenade cafes were sizzling with warm flesh. Earlier on our bus we had noticed that concertinas were the in thing, several potential buskers were front loaded and ready to squeeze out a tune, one was on the front at El Medano, his organ looked a bit discoloured but I believe you can get some ointment for that. I had to share my pancake craving so we popped into La Boheme in the walkway behind the recently saved Hotel El Medano, sweet and savoury delights as we watched the world and its large collection of assorted dogs pass by. A brief walk later we returned to the restaurant opposite and enjoyed a coffee on their terrace overlooking the sea, it was a natural sun trap and my gaze was torn between the young lady peeling down her top on the next table and the young ladies bathing below – oh the natural charms of the bay and Montaña Roja also managed to turn my head.

With plenty of time to play with we decided to march up to the main road and at least part way out of El Medano before catching a bus, it turned into a fair old hike in the beating sun. We rounded the surfers beach, the nature reserve and the camping area before taking the shade at the bus stop just as a cloud rolled over and blotted out the sun. As it didn’t look quite so promising we decided to bypass Los Abrigos and stretch the Bono tickets to Las Galletas, a brief shower greeted our arrival but a drink stop in a cafe transformed the scene back to a bright evening. Las Galletas was fairly busy and a stroll along the front and a short exploration of the shopping precinct passed some more time wisely. That just left a short hop back to Los Cristianos to finish the day with some tapas and beer at El Faro, another TITSA triumph.

Unsettled and changeable best describes recent weather in Tenerife but to my holidaying friends Neal and Karen on the run from Bournemouth snow, it was just what they needed and as they wanted to taste the TITSA touring experience we headed off to Icod de los Vinos. Rising up into the hills the early sun was soon covered by low cloud although it did filter through for a wonderful rainbow nearly touching the road just by Santiago del Teide. Passing through some drizzle we dropped down into Icod and a decent sunny day, the tight back streets were bathed in festive classics in a Canarian stylie from the speakers at key points along the shopping parade. The local businesses had even laid on free wrapping in the street – the present sort not the bling and baseball cap musical variety.

Heading along for a gawp at the Drago tree brought us to the Plaza Andres de Lorenzo Caceres for a spot of lunch, decent prices and a lovely setting among the mix of strange knarled trees and the rather out of place multi coloured kiddies car ride. News had reached us of nearby Garachico’s 3 million euro collective win on El Gordo, the Spanish christmas lottery, was that a wave crashing as we looked out along the coast, or just another large bottle of champers being cracked open? The big famous Drago tree walled in just below the plaza gets all the attention but there are plenty more in the area so we headed up the road to worship a slightly smaller neglected tree hidden away in its own small crumbling plaza – I think we might start an appeal to help it. It was then we spotted a museum, Casa de Los Caceres, a fabulous old two tier house packed with some great food influenced art like a human figure made of lentils, peas, and chick peas, I think the artist was Jamie Oliver but I wouldn’t swear to it. Coming out there was a large crowd gathered as 2 chaps performed some street theatre.

Heading back down to the plaza it started raining so we dived into the Mariposario, the Butterfly Zoo. I have meant to visit this zoo for a long time, they have had run ins with the local council and it has been open and closed more often than Jordans legs. It doesn’t look much on the outside but once inside it opens up into a huge tropical greenhouse with plants, flowers and a stream running through. The butterflies were amazing, so many of them all around us and such a range of colours. A large lizard lounging on a tree bough looked like he was stuffed after eating a feast of butterflies but he flicked his tail now and then just to show willing. As the butterflies landed on us we had to resist the natural urge to brush them off, don’t want to destroy the stock. I can’t believe some woman had taken her dog in with her, small yappy and wrinkly around the face, but the dog looked quite nice.

Deciding to head south we stopped at a bar next to the bus station where a few locals were glued to a very old western on the TV, resisting some gems among the station shop DVD collection – Kojak when he was so young he still needed a comb- we waited for our bus as a young Ninja stretched his legs up the side of another bus and played out a rythm on the side with a rolled up newspaper, of course he got on our bus and continued his impromptu drumming all the way down to Guia de Isora where we got off. Town was fairly quiet apart from a kids party in the church square, sadly they didn’t seem to want us on th bouncy castle so we found a bouncy bar along the main road and savoured the last sun of the day as we had a few drinks. Guia were playing CD Marino at the football ground, just as well as the floodlights were the only illumination for the bus station next door, we were joined by a young pretty Eastern European lady who didn’t seem to know where she was heading and was gonna wait on her own in the near dark for an hour. Thankfully we persuaded the lost lass to get on our bus and head back to Las Americas, she only had a 50 euro note that the driver couldn’t change, Karen rescued her by paying with her Bono ticket, not nice to imagine the lady left on her own with just broken English and a 50 euro note to help her.

Our trip was brief, just a few stops down to Tejina to meet up with The General from the Armada Sur, by now it was getting a bit chilly but the pizza bar was welcoming and served up some nice local food to warm us up as we spilled our story of the day. TITSA buses give a good service and our 10 pm bus was spot on time to whisk us back to Las Americas and Los Cristianos. Another rewarding day exploring Tenerife in good company, with a few Doradas thrown in for good measure.