Someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Hello Jeffrey". Nothing odd about that seeing it's my name. I looked up, did not recognize the person, so I got to my feet very slowly, allowing me to think quickly (nice for a change.) while rising...(continues below).
Punta del Hidalgo lighthouse. One of us is knocked-out by the sight, the structure and the picture. The other is a little nonchalant. I quote, "It doesn't do it for me." This photograph taken about as far from the subject as possible.
This photograph 'does it for one of us'. I won't say whom but the clue is he's not in the picture.
The richness of the mountain coverage attests to the type of weather experienced, amongst other things.
The village people.
"Todd", I exclaimed as the name came to the fore. He was a Swiss national from Zurich. One year previously to the day, we had hiked together on the Keppler Trek over 5 days. He now stood before us. Situations like that remain forever etched in the mind.
The village people.
"Todd", I exclaimed as the name came to the fore. He was a Swiss national from Zurich. One year previously to the day, we had hiked together on the Keppler Trek over 5 days. He now stood before us. Situations like that remain forever etched in the mind.
On Friday, we parked at Cruz del Carmen lot. I opened my door and just then a vehicle entered the space next to ours. A man alighted and began to remove his bike. We greeted each other with the usual 'Hola'. However, we both sensed that English was our common language.
It was hard to leave our conversation some 15 minutes later as we spoke with Kevin, married to a Spanish woman he met in India. An American, he had lived in Pacific Beach, San Diego, now spending 6 months each year in Tenerife and New York. We laughed when we tried to reconcile his wonderful life to include the Big Apple. But that's just us...big city lovers.
It was one of those chance meetings where you meet a charming, fascinating and stimulating person who influences your day, maybe more. Reluctantly, we parted and enjoyed yet another wonderful hike while he went off cycling.
On our return, the clouds began filling the sky and we thought yet again, today we're going to get wet. Our good fortune held. Instead, we'd have to take a hot shower again. Well, you can't have everything. As we approached our vehicle, Jen noticed Kevin lifting his cycle into his trunk. I could never anticipate that after nearly 5 hours away, he would not have since departed for home. Furthermore, we arrived within a minute of each other. It does not seem possible that it's a matter of chance. There are just too many variables.
Well, fortunately, we conversed for a further 15 minutes which was again pleasurable but insufficient. As we departed, it began to rain. Our timing thus far has been impeccable with respect to avoiding the rain but unfortunately, it's only a matter of time before the inevitable occurs. There's a sure-fire way, of course, of remaining dry: We could choose to sit on the couch each day.
Welcome to Tenerife, the green land off Africa, the blue waters of the Atlantic, the trails of the most fortunate, and the atmosphere unique.
Ten days ago or so, we published a blog in which we reached part way up Roque Taborno.
Going round the bend part way up the Roque. An earlier hike when we actually took on the roque...and lost.
The highpoint of this hike as we view Taborno from yet another vantage point while across yet a different valley.
'There's a hole in my mountain, dear Liza.'
Let me see that lighthouse again, from another angle, of course. (love the structure)
Field of Dreams. Upper-land is over 2,000 feet above sea level.
A walk in an enchanted forest.
A contrast of a human with a tiny bit of the world.
'Stairway to (from) Heaven.'
Roque Taborno, prominent again from another side, across a different valley.
Jenni getting close to Chinamada (on the right).
Edging toward the hamlet.
Jen heading toward the peak.
For even better views, go high. Ten days before, we began a hike from the town below.
A great view of the town, Punta del Hidalgo. Below (orange) part of the path we followed from Hidalgo.
Another prime view...they only have prime views, fella, this is Amazon, not the jungle. (A royalty would be nice.)
Jeffrey considers this a 'prime view'.
We suppose this a reasonable ocean view...extract from the movie, 'My Left Foot'. The sequel is in production, 'My Left Foot, too. (It covers issues of the sole rather than the soul itself.)
We spoke of getting wet as the clouds expanded quickly. Even the shapes and density seem to be special, to appear they would explode...there's that bias showing again. Meantime, we have to get over that mountain to return to our car, hopefully, dry.
Life lived remotely in the mountains, above the ocean and away from the madding crowd.
The power of the ocean and the overwhelming size of the mountains are no match for the clarity of a mere bloom.
Cheers,
Going round the bend part way up the Roque. An earlier hike when we actually took on the roque...and lost.
The highpoint of this hike as we view Taborno from yet another vantage point while across yet a different valley.
'There's a hole in my mountain, dear Liza.'
Let me see that lighthouse again, from another angle, of course. (love the structure)
Field of Dreams. Upper-land is over 2,000 feet above sea level.
A walk in an enchanted forest.
A contrast of a human with a tiny bit of the world.
'Stairway to (from) Heaven.'
Roque Taborno, prominent again from another side, across a different valley.
Jenni getting close to Chinamada (on the right).
Edging toward the hamlet.
Jen heading toward the peak.
For even better views, go high. Ten days before, we began a hike from the town below.
A great view of the town, Punta del Hidalgo. Below (orange) part of the path we followed from Hidalgo.
Another prime view...they only have prime views, fella, this is Amazon, not the jungle. (A royalty would be nice.)
Jeffrey considers this a 'prime view'.
We suppose this a reasonable ocean view...extract from the movie, 'My Left Foot'. The sequel is in production, 'My Left Foot, too. (It covers issues of the sole rather than the soul itself.)
We spoke of getting wet as the clouds expanded quickly. Even the shapes and density seem to be special, to appear they would explode...there's that bias showing again. Meantime, we have to get over that mountain to return to our car, hopefully, dry.
Life lived remotely in the mountains, above the ocean and away from the madding crowd.
The power of the ocean and the overwhelming size of the mountains are no match for the clarity of a mere bloom.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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