57.17 Tenerife: Camino de la Vueltas to Taganana contrasted with an alternate route to the town.

The majesty of the forest.
On the way to the trailhead, we stopped at an overlook. 

The hills are alive as they flow into the suburbs on one side and the ocean over on the other.

  

I suppose it’s one of the attributes that makes Jenni so lovable. I should explain and probably, as anyone reading our blogs has nothing better to do, you might as well continue reading. By the way, women have a certain way about them that’s missing in men or at least, me, that adds to these ‘lovable’ attribute/s. Thank goodness for that. 

  It all began one Monday morning when the weather forecast predicted no rain for at least the next few minutes. When you have a relatively small piece of land surrounded by a massive ocean, it appears anything can happen, and it usually does. There is something really enjoyable about the feel of the weather in Tenerife even when it rains, except while we are outdoors. Add the wind that comes blowing in uninvited but seemingly out of nowhere and that we find less than ideal, too. Then again, there is a lot of space surrounding and above us which probably creates these vacuums for the different elements to fill. Over the years, I’ve come to realize how insignificant we are in the scheme of things in our world. Acceptance of the concept is a wonderful thing because thereafter, that too is immaterial.

  Anyway, enough about that and back to Jenni and today’s hike down a very steep path and conversely, a tough one back. We prefer the inclines in the beginning heading up to a peak rather than on the way back. Grand Canyon is a typical example. It (canyon) is probably one of the most spectacular places on Earth. However, we would prefer to see it upside down. Heck, I didn’t ever argue that we aren’t a little odd, especially Jenni. I wasn't always this way though...continues at end. 

  Jen probably thought she might come across a bear. Perhaps that accounts for her 'growling'.

Taganana ahead. This is an early glimpse of the town after leaving the forest. 

  Follow that curve.
Been out the forest for a while and enjoying wonderful views of the town, the ocean and mountains. 

Above is one route to the coast, below is another route down, linking them creates a circuit. Brilliant deduction! The width between the two trails is about 4 miles, yet the foliage differs vastly. Find this stunning as Jenni makes her way along the path.

A few weeks later, we approached from the coast, which afforded us some of the most attractive sights seen on the island. See a few below.
A walk along the wild side, Taganana ahead and to the right following Jenni's path.
Stepping-stones along the way to Taganana via the wet route 

The prominent icon of the town.
When Jenni realized how far below we had to walk, strangely, she was a little overcome. Jenni is not particularly talkative. However, she whined the whole way down. 

  “I can’t believe how steep this is. We have to walk back up this ridiculously sharp incline. I don’t think I can make it. I didn’t sign on for this. I am still tired from yesterday’s climb.” 

  I tried to assuage her fears. ‘Firstly, you do this often. Secondly, you know you can do it. Sure, it’s steep but it’s what you do. One foot in front of the other. Why are you being so negative? Tiring yes, but a piece of cake for you.’ 

 “Of course, I can do it,” she replied, “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

 ‘Yes. So why are you moaning so much?’ 

 “I’m entitled to moan, aren’t I?” 

 ‘I suppose so, but you haven’t stopped for a second. It doesn’t help you one bit. In fact, it wastes your energy.’ 

 “I need to whine.” 

‘Okay. Don't let me stop you. It makes a change from the sweet-chirping birds’. 

 The whining continued for most of the way down (For the record, this is without precedent). When she stopped to drink water, I should admit, she was rather quiet. I thought to myself should this performance on the way down when one needs skill rather than stamina be the precursor for the return journey, then it will be a nightmare. We stopped for brunch at the turnaround point and I could see that look in the eye. 

'Quiet, Jeffrey, I cautioned myself.' I found a spot where we could sit comfortably and invited her to join me. “No. I need somewhere where I can stretch and relax to regain my energy. She found, laying in the open, an abandoned plastic pool tube/lilo. She made herself comfortable. The weather had been perfect for the trip down. However, the clouds began forming and it appeared we were in for…you guessed it…more rain. We had a few drops and then the sun returned. You gotta love that. 

Prior to commencing the return trip, Jenni suggested we halt every thirty minutes for a break of 2 minutes. I suggested every twenty minutes. I was trying to curry favor with her. By the way, it took us about eighty minutes to get down. Jenni calculated that it should require nearly 2 hours, maybe more, to reach the peak. She is surprisingly accurate with her forecasts, certainly much more than me. It seemed like a fair estimate. During the whole walk up the steep climb, I did not hear much from her.

 Furthermore, after asking me to not ‘race up’ (she flatters me), she was quiet until close to top. We trudged efficiently and at about sixty-five minutes, she became nervous about being on an incorrect trail. She said she did not recognize a certain tree stump. Huh! Then she uttered that we could be lost because the forest, which is beautiful by the way, did not appear to be as thick with growth as that she viewed on the way down. 

I never realized she was that sensitive and aware. However, I had had no doubts but began to allow her comments to raise questions. Such detail she remembered, such awareness. Perhaps, I should not have been confident of our situation. (‘I talk to the trees’ came to mind when I thought of her relationship with this massive forest. A tree stump?) I kept looking up and thought I could see the peak. I figured we were minutes away from reaching the end. I passed on this encouragement.

 “Impossible,” she half-ridiculed me. "We still have miles to go. We've not even reached the eighty-minute mark we took to get down." 

 I was a little put off but still felt we were close. Lo and behold, another ten minutes and we reached our vehicle. Surprisingly, we got back up in less time than it took us down. The look in her face was uplifting—no face lift is necessary for this woman. 

What took the cake was when all she could utter from then on was, “Wasn’t I impressive? I think I did very well. I’m proud of myself. That was pretty good. What do you think?” 

 I could not believe what I was hearing. In probably my best exercise of self-control, I smiled and refrained from answering. I don't know whether I'll be able to repeat such restraint again. 

 I suppose that’s one of the reasons she’s so lovable…particularly, when she behaves herself. 

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

A Supplement to satisfy aggression: One of us enjoyed observing the temper of the Atlantic as it pounded the shore and anything in its path.

'Smashing'.
A sultry Teide watches over the waters. (If still waters run deep, are these shallow? Just asking.)

Focusing on the blue building (same as above) as it too gets the treatment.

57:16 Tenerife: Los Silos, a gem which sparkled throughout the hike and continued many hours thereafter.

Nestled in the valley, a tranquil town outside the carnival period, with a volcano thrown in for some real explosive fun.
As we move up, we enjoy the coastline and buildings. Should have parked in that area.

 We arrived in the town searching for the trailhead, but to our consternation, the carnival had arrived hours before us. The streets were busy, the limited parking unavailable and so we took an offshoot road to try to appease the GPS which wanted us to make a right-turn into a path that had a locked gate at its entrance. We were pressured to turn one way or the other by heavy traffic about us as well being close to destination point, so why not. The road entered was, to be generous, a single pathway with very limited space on either side of the car. It lead to a trailhead which unfortunately was not the correct one. The next problem was an inability to turn around. We kept going in the hope that the 'road' would widen somewhat in order to allow us to reverse course, or at least, have a turnaround point. Sometimes we are the eternal optimists. After about a half-mile, we managed to change direction. I had nightmares about reversing for a long distance in such a narrow space. 

  At that stage, we were in a quandary. We could not park the car; we did not know where the trailhead was and things were unlikely to improve people and traffic wise as the carnival crowds were building. On our way to this destination, we came down some 2,500 feet from the mountain above the coastal city. Aha! Instead of being frustrated in continuing what seemed a hapless search, why don't we park the car and walk up the narrow mountain road. That's exactly what we did. We found a parking space near a banana plantation and set off to reach the mountain top. Obviously, we would have liked to find the mountain trail. Nevertheless, the experience turned to be so good that given a second opportunity, we would have difficulty selecting between the two options. Improvising in hiking, accommodation, meals and odds-and-ends has been an important facet of Hike-about. 

  Being outside a forest area, the views were clear and available every moment of the hike. It was extremely steep and long enough to make it a full and tiring day. We added a further section when we noticed a path heading from the road to the interior. It gave us further perspective to the ways the farming and engineering communities live, work and build within the region. Most of all, it took us away from the carnival crowds, giving us complete tranquility, allowing us to sweat in peace.  

Partway up we view an initial minor peak.
A view from the mountain top where we enjoyed brunch.
Jen reaches a sharp bend in the road and absorbs the beauty.
A glimpse at part of the route up (and down).
On one of the tops.
Another view from the top showing the lighthouse.
The lighthouse. Some 3 weeks before, when we were above Masca, we noticed it. In our current position we were half an hour away by car plus over 3 hours of hiking at least, to allow the common view.
A view of the peak as we divert from the road to explore the interior.  

  It could be a spy...don't try this in the US though. Loved the view of the village.
Views like this make us feel some people know how to live.
  I met Mark Michelow some 60 years ago, in Johannesburg, South Africa. Mark, besides my brother Mark and a few cousins, is probably a person I’ve know the longest stretching over my life. When we were kids we would play soccer at the various neighbors’ houses and Mark often joined us although he lived outside Waverley, the suburb in which I lived. Should I be allowed to mention only one thing about the man it would be to say that he is a gentleman, a very special one. Okay, I’ll stick to one thing. 

  

  This leads up to the reason for the introduction. Mark has obviously spent time traveling and studying life on the islands of the world. He has followed us closely on Tenerife, too. Because of his experience, he sent us an email recently which follows below, paraphrased: 

  ‘Jenni and Jeffrey’, it began, 'Do you know that there are no canaries inhabiting the Canary Islands?’ Truth be told, we did not know that. 

  He then followed it up with further information. ‘Now regarding the Virgin Islands, here’s some interesting information, too. ‘In the Virgin Islands, there are in fact, no canaries either’. 

  Thank you, Mark. 

Peeking into their privacy.
Doing it again inland. The telephoto gives us detail including our car parked left of the water tank. Notice line of cars parked along the main road.
Love the coastline.
Let's go home...it's a long way down...and we hope we did not get a parking fine.

Should we try this as a home for the night?
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

57.15 Tenerife: Afur to Taborno and before then: 57.14: Casa Carlos to El Fronton, two trails intersecting somewhere above Afur and below Taborno.

  We continue to immerse ourselves in Spanish culture more and more with each visit. Even while we're in the middle of Atlantic, we still do absorb the culture, but do find we get soaked in it...water? I suppose we sometimes become a little too enthusiastic. We woke early on a Monday and headed for the village of Afur for what turned out to be an exciting climb to the hamlet of Taborno. As we walked out of our apartment, we noticed the parking spaces were still filled. It seemed unusual. We then drove off and observed the roads were quieter than usual. Could it be a public holiday, we wondered? 

  Jen mentioned it was Presidents' Day in the US; maybe the Spanish have an affinity for Biden. We both smiled...Jen was on top form and early, too. I love her humor when it's not at my expense. The 5-Freeway was relatively quiet, too which was a further clue. After 2 hours climbing, we arrived in Taborno and lo and behold, the bar, restaurant and cafe were closed. Wow, no beers for us today. That makes it over 70 years dry. What vasbyt! (endurance). In the most remote of positions, the spirit(s) of the holiday endured, we thought. Even the usual bustle of tourists was minimal. (Continues at end)

'That's the destination? On second thoughts, I'll take the bus.' (By the way, the destination is beyond the peak-in-view and a further 700 feet higher.)

'Is it my imagination or is that mountain top rising?' Roque Taborno on the peak.
Good chance we get wet today. The mountains are so well shaped, covered and prominent.
As we move up, with the 'high' incidence of 'car theft' on the island, we check on our car regularly...extreme left fore (in Afur). Should we see someone fooling around near it, the plan is Jenni will run down quickly and sort it out. Meantime, I'll think diligently about ways to negotiate the trail.
Moving up, car still safe.
Amongst the mountain people, Jenni searches for direction.
Destination at mountain top, the village of Taborno.
Oh! You have an ocean in this region, too. Could it also be the Atlantic? But what's along the coastline? (See below)
The following week, we undertook a tough hike that guided us onto a stone beach followed by a climb and hike along the mountain edges. (An extension of the above photo.) The following three are a taste of how spectacular we think the hike and scenery were, arguably the best and without doubt, the toughest, respectively. Photos provided for perspective of the interlinking in Parque Anaga.
Jen on edge as the rain begins.
This hike also links Afur to Taganana which can be seen in the distance.
El Fronton Hike. 

Jen comes in from the cold...out of the forest.
The target comes into view for the latter hike. (The farmhouse atop the cliff below.)
We reach the target only to be upstaged by another showoff...it's an epidemic. 'We'll join you in our next life but cut out the preening, we're not impressed.'
Looking strong and determined.
Sometimes it feels like a person owns the oceans... the world. Mostly, one is just an irrelevant speck. Enjoy those moments!
Toward the end of our hike, we came across a fellow who we'd seen negotiating a mountain road in his vehicle earlier. It never ceases to amaze us where a person will find a road or track. The Europeans, as mentioned before, have a tremendous sense of adventure. It made us think of their discovery of the rest of the world throughout the ages. Think about it. They sailed from their shores to discover and settle in all continents of the world. 

  We sort of communicated with this guy, trying to determine what holiday we ought to celebrate. Obviously, should we wish to immerse ourselves into the culture, we should at least know the holiday. 

  "No fiesta, today," he eventually assured us when he understood the question. We had wondered whether the annual carnival held in various cities allowed for a general holiday. Apparently not. We returned to Tacaronte, our home base, and accepted that our assumption was incorrect. During the return journey, we thought we'd check out the supermercados (supermarkets) to ascertain whether they were open. Then it struck us: Our wisdom and cultural immersion revealed the real issue "To Fiesta or not to Siesta, that is the question." 

  Think about it. Should it in fact be a public holiday (fiesta), contrary to the knowledge of the local fellow in the remote area, then the stores would be closed. However, if we checked the status of the shops during siesta, they would obviously be closed. Therefore, as we were driving during that period, we would not be any the wiser of the reason for closures, not to be confused with foreclosures. 

    For those not as smart as us, probably just one of you, let us amplify. Should it in fact be a fiesta, then the stores would be closed. Should it be siesta period, then the stores would also be closed. Therefore, it points to the fact that one should never attempt to arrive at a conclusion about fiesta during siesta. 

  Others might ask: 'What is the status of a store on both a fiesta and during siesta? Is it a double closure and what are the implications? We wonder whether this is a question that the Spanish have dealt with, and if so, have they examined it adequately? Some admit they have put it aside and prefer to deal with bulls, being a bullfighting nation. At this juncture, you should be able to hear the strings of the 'March of the Toreadors' faintly. 

  In conclusion, it turns out that it was a fiesta, celebrating the second biggest carnival in the world. This means the fellow in the village was incorrect. We, therefore, felt relieved as our instincts were, in fact, correct. Finally, we had met a village idiot. 

A view into Afur from a different hike (parking lot, this time our car is elsewhere), the highest visible point.

Our favorite hiking beverage: A Pepsi bottle filled with water.

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

From the later hike along the coast, incredible views and trails...(blog to follow). 

  Approaching Taganana from the coast.