I learned some things on Sunday, and one of them was that I didn’t know Tenerife as well as I thought I did. It is clearly over 18 years since I visited Punta Hidalgo, and I am still trying to come to terms with that realization! Acknowledging the rapid passing of time, however, is better than the alternative – which would be that the last time I was there I had failed to notice this beautiful building – which is the lighthouse which guards that rocky bit of coast.
I find, however, that it was constructed in 1992, phew, so my powers of observation weren’t as bad as all that. I did have a couple or more very adventurous young guys in tow at that time (my two boys plus a couple of of their friends), so I might just have been excused, but no, it was before 1992.
Looking at the pictures, isn’t this quite breathtaking? I had a “thing” about lighthouses for a while. It happened after a visit to the Outer Banks, a region famous for its lighthouses, and where there are so many legends surrounding them, and the sinking or the washing up on the shores of boats, from pirate ships to the battle ships of WW2, that I became totally infatuated. Shortly after that Austin bought me a book of photos by Philip Plisson, for my money the best photographer of all things maritime, and my passion was confirmed, but it waned – as so many do! Maria and I talked about touring the Canary Islands, just to photograph the lighthouses. So – if you read this, Maria – I’ve made a start!
Never have I seen one quite like this before, and a quick glance at Google hasn’t come up with any architectural information, but I will continue to delve. It’s elegant and almost ethereal, and I thought the light would be far too lousy for a decent photo, and yet, it seems to be that’s just the qualities the photos show, despite the excessive light.
Lesson learned two, is that places are constantly growing and changing. I talk about “knowing” Cologne in Germany, for instance, which I did at one time, but, let me see that’s something like 40 years ago…..so how much that city must have changed! I really shouldn’t claim to “know” Cologne. I “knew” it back then. So never take for granted that we know, well, anywhere. On a scale of things Tenerife is a blip in the ocean, but even here I constantly find new delights and ideas. The trouble with the 9 to 5 is that it leaves you with little enthusiasm for moving around on the weekend, that is once the shopping, banking, car cleaning and house cleaning is done, and sometimes we might know our favorite vacation destinations better than we know places just up the road!
This week has been a quite uneventful one really, but, before I forget, here are the photos from last Sunday’s stroll around San Cristóbal de La Laguna, usually known, simply, as La Laguna.
Since first coming to live in the Canary Islands 23 years ago, I’ve always been given to understand that the original capital of the island, following the Spanish conquest, was Garachico in the true north, but these days I so often hear that La Laguna was the original capital I begin to doubt my original information – but then there is more misinformation about this tiny island than you could believe, and tonight I am enjoying a glass or two of excellent Malvasia, so I will leave the scholarly stuff for next time. Whatever the truth might be, La Laguna was the capital of the island for a time, and now it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Last Sunday, we hadn’t intended to visit the city, so this was much more a Sunday stroll than an inquisitive visit - but that is something which is most certainly on the cards for the near future. We parked (Sunday parking is easy peasy, unlike during the week, when the Tranvia is a much better option), close to these beautiful, old buildings. We assumed, judging from their state of disrepair, that they are on the edge of the Heritage Site, although they have clearly been colorfully decorated at one time. Some of them looked beyond repair, which is a shame. Modern buildings here are nicely and thoughtfully presented, but just don’t have the character, so let’s hope there is some money in some kitty, somewhere to restore these!
We turned out to be quite close to the Iglesia de la Concepción, whose local fame is second only to the cathedral a little further along.
Bad timing – they were just closing for lunch, but informed us that we would be able to ascend the bell tower at 3 o’clock. Now, since seeing a friend’s photos of the view from up there, that’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, so there was nothing for it but to stroll some more until it was opening time.
One of the things which strikes you about the historical part of La Laguna is color. The old buildings have been restored and exude a homely kind of beauty which I usually associate with the Caribbean, or Africa. It’s odd, in a way, because gorgeous though it is, it doesn’t somehow, fit with the impression I have of this island. Really, I will investigate, but I have the feeling this owes more to modern fashions than to genuine restoration. I have, I hasten to add, ABSOLUTELY, no basis for saying that whatsoever, it’s a purely personal hunch, and a hunch, at that……I might be way off mark.
Whatever, it’s very pretty, and a very pleasant place to be. I never fail to feel outstandingly good when I am in La Laguna. We did call by the Tourist Information office on our meanderings, and this is the most gorgeous building, and is obviously lovingly restored:
We now know how to get more information – watch this space, coming soon – but overall there was a disappointing lack of orientation/propaganda for such a prestigious place. When I called into my local Tourist Information Office in El Médano recently I was just overwhelmed with all the information there, not only about the local area, but about the island, and that was even before I spoke with the lady who runs it, who is a living, breathing ad for her community and island, really, someone should give her a job in the Cabildo! She is charming, happy and helpful.
It might be because I didn’t know where to go (but, then, a tourist would know even less) that there didn’t seem to be a huge variety, or even much variety, of eateries to choose from on that main “drag” in the tourist office/cathedral/church triangle? I would love for someone local to put me right there? We ended up having a very nice sandwich in Oh La La, a local chain which really caters more for the working, lunchtime crowd than for tourists. No problems with food or service, they were good – because I live here. Had I been a tourist/traveller I think I would have been disappointed that I wasn’t eating something “Canarian”. That said, we came across the most WONDERFUL ice cream place, where we positively inhaled passion fruit ice cream, which seemed to be the most perfectly apt thing to put down your throat on a hot day. I lose words here. It was sublime! Yesterday, a friend told me that I should have gone to a certain bakery in that area, and I have a feeling it might have been the same place…..yes, yes – I am slapping my own wrists for not getting the name – don’t worry – it was that good a return visit will not be so long away!
All stickied up from the ice cream we arrived back at the bell tower for our ascent, which proved to be physically way less than expected, and visually more rewarding -
AND – yes we WERE up there when the bells stuck – happily for us it was on the quarter-hour!
It was a most pleasant way to while away a Sunday afternoon, it filled the “whatever it is it was supposed to fill” , and left us with questions which, as we live here, we will be able to answer in the near future.
Now, as Shakespeare said, here’s the rub – suppose we didn’t live here, suppose we’d been tourists with a few hours to spend on the island from our cruise boat? But suppose that if we had been tempted enough, we would come back and explore the island more? Spend more tourist dollars?
One of the things I enjoy most in life is trying to put myself in someone else’s shoes ….. so, here I am, that tourist…..well, to be honest, I figure I’ve been there, done that, there is no incentive to return. It was nice and pretty, and I have a very nice impression of Tenerife, but exactly why would I want to come back and spend a week or two or even a month here? Hey – Mr. Melchior – I know the answer to that question …….. DO YOU??
So, what was last week like, apart from finally taking myself to the doctor’s to try to sort out the stiff neck that is? Errrrr……..it was kind of ordinary……for here.
With my dear friend, Maggie, staying up the coast with my goddaughter, her beau and her daughter, actually, seeing the amazing Palacio de Isora hotel, was, perhaps not so ordinary. Living here, you don’t really give much thought to hotels if you aren’t in the business, but I must say that it was exceptionally beautiful, the food though was good, but not to rave about, at least the meal I had there. So, here is a completely different view of tourism. whilst my much prefered journey would take me on a exploration of anywhere I was, I can quite understand the need for a worn-out, Western worker, with sufficient disposable income, to just chill and be calmed, to have the need to work out all those kinks life in the cubicle implants. Strange as it may seem for someone of my mindset, I can understand the need to chill and forget the outside world……..and having observed the hotel from a certain distance ….well – it wouldn’t do that for me, pretty though it is.
The rest of the time with my friends/family was barbecuing, a wee time on the beach (i.e.not enough on account of my neck!), and the compulsory stuffing o ourselves at Otelo in Adeje……one day, I will go there, (with ordinary people, not gluttons) and actually finish the pile of chicken they bring!!! This time we left one. One, I ask you, one piece of chicken. Wouldn’t you have thought someone could have eaten it????? As we left the huge, silver moon rose on queue over the ragged peaks which shelter Barranco del Infierno………..of course it did – it was …… I didn’t have my camera!!
So, the week has been a mixture of sloth and pain. I now, officially, award full marks to the medical center in El Médano. I have to admit I’ve been procrastinating (well, that’s a game with me, anyway) about changing over from the Los Cristianos center. That’s because I felt virtually invisible the last time I was registered there – which is, actually, probably a step up from the way I felt as a patient in Los Cristianos (stupid foreigner I suppose would cover the attitude – I except one, particular nurse from that remark, I doubt she’ll ever read this, but if you do, my friend, you will know who you are – and you are a blessing to mankind). Anyhoo, procrastination being my demeanour of choice it was a no brainer. Last week I had to, though, and wow but it went well – lovely receptionist lady and very efficient, appointment within 24 hours and a doctor I could feel confident about (is bonding too strong a word??) OK I know I was a spoiled brat with private insurance for a long time, and all of this is only what people normally have to put up with. Still, my experiences with the broken wrist last year were worthy of stories from Third World countries. I think I didn’t comment on them at the time——very frustrating to type with one hand.
So – the week still has one more day to offer. What will it be like? I am smirking, but it might be the Malvasia …. wait and see!
Author’s Note: this post was written whilst slightly inebriated, but the author has few doubts that she will stand by the contents on the morrow, even though they may be politically incorrect. She also reaffirms her right to consider these ramblings as personal opinions, and has no affiliation to anyone/thing other than her own conscience.
I’ve been meaning to post these sunset picture for a couple of weeks now, since I posted the sunrise ones – it’s been interesting going through them. For one thing, you’ve probably heard me say a million times (well, almost!) that I much prefer rising suns to setting ones, and indeed I do, in as much as I just love the promise of each new day which seems to emerge with the dawn. Fits with the travel bug, doesn’t it? Yet, I had loads of sunset pictures, lots more than I thought I had.
This is very largely because of living in Los Cristianos last year……and I thought that having LavaBar as my “local” was the only good reason for living there! If I leaned over enough I could snap sunsets right from the kitchen terrace, which was fun.
Choosing ones to put together this little display I realized that, if I go down there in a month or so, the sun will be putting on another fine display, and there may be even better photos than last year (oh – witness the video I put on my Facebook page, which I found whilst messing on YouTube – it’s amazing!), and yet I know I probably won’t bother. It’s the moving on thing. Been there, done that, I guess. Not enough to make me want to stay.
The roads, and especially the autopistas, of Tenerife, like roads the world over, are a cross between race tracks for the young and senseless and arteries of the island, carrying goods and tourists up and down, but, curiously for such a mecca of tourism, very quiet on Sundays – at least if you are going in the right direction – that would be, for instance, not north to south in summer, when people from the cities head for the beaches of the south, and not south to north when CD Tenerife are playing. Happily, last Sunday Colleen and I were headed in the right direction at 9.30, from the hot and dusty south to the village of Tegueste, just a click from La Laguna.
Alerted by a tweet we’d decided to find out what was so special about batatas, or sweet potatoes. This is a vegetable, which, for me, reaches the heights of ambrosia in the sweet potato pie they make in the southern states of the US, but otherwise, I’ve not been able to get excited about……could it be that Jack Daniels is missing from other recipes???
In any event it was an excuse to do something I’d been meaning to do for a few years and visit Tegueste, which I’d really only passed through before, but which had very much appealed to me.
It turned out to be very much the way I’d remembered and imagined it to be, quiet (at least on a Sunday), almost sleepy, and very pretty. Sitting outside a small bar close to the church square felt almost like stepping back in time, watching the world awake to a day which was more “pleasantly warm” than the hot south…….not to mention two cups of coffee for €1.70!!!!!!!!!!! ………I started to write there: ”I’ll give friends in the south time to pick themselves up from the floor,” but I’m thinking that, actually, would be friends the world over. Question : can any of you buy a cup of coffee for 85 cents? And not only coffee, but really good coffee?? Still, it would have been a long way to go just to save a couple of euros on cups of coffee alone.
After enjoying our caffeinated and bucolic fix we made our way to the Farmers’ Market where local chef Javier Mora was due to instruct in innovative uses of the sweet potato. Mora is chef at a large hotel in the Costa Adeje area, and since, living here, I don’t, actually, know that much about hotels I tried to find out more about him. Sadly, he shares a name with a Mexican boxer, an Ecuadorian photographer/mountain climber, a well-known Spanish actor and some people in the technology industry, so I gave up. He seemed quite impressive and dedicated though.
After short (yay!) speeches from the mayor and market officials he set to work stirring pans from which delicious aromas were drifting, and in true “here is one I made earlier” tradition, samples were passed around. Nice touch here, the dishes were made from banana leaves fastened together with wooden sticks, which made them about the size of a large egg cup, just perfect for a tasty nibble, and others were made from an ultra thin bark which made them all biodegradable….. 10 out of 10 to whoever was reponsible for that :=)
The mayor tries his hand at cooking – for the cameras at least!
Joking apart, the dishes we tried were both delicious, especially the one with the serrano ham, but I can’t tell you how he described them or what he said, because his patter was lost amidst the chatter and slurping of his gathered fans……….note to anyone who reads this who might know whom to tell — give the man a mike next time! I really would have like to have heard what he had to say. This is the first of 12, monthly demonstrations, organized by the island government, and the next one will be in a different municipality, so maybe it will be better luck next time.
There was also a free wine tasting to go with the food, which was a very nice touch – and a good PR move, we both liked the El Lomo, and will definitely buy if we see it on sale in the future. 10 out of 10 to the young man and the young woman on that stall, who were very pleasant too.
The Farmers’ Market itself was quite a surprise for me. Used to the bustle of the markets in San Isidro (my local one) or Las Chafiras, or the iconic Mercado de Nuestra Señora de Africa in Santa Cruz, I was surprised at how tranquilo it seemed to be, and also by the fact that it is, essentially, an outdoor market, whilst the southern ones are indoor. Of course, my northern perception still perfectly in tact, even after all these years, I assumed that markets are covered against inclement weather, but perhaps it’s the hot sun, and not the rain they protect customers from! Although winters in Tegueste are much fresher than in the south, compared to northern Europe they are mild. It is also laid out with wide aisles, so it’s easy to get around without bumping into fellow shoppers.
In addition to local produce there was also a variety of other stalls which we don’t find in the Farmers’ Markets down south. There were a couple of jewellery stalls, with lovely bits and pieces which were quite unique, but my favorite was a kind of “toys of the past” stand, with brightly painted spinning tops and puppets carved from wood and decorated by the stallholder, but there was also a truly original stall with all sorts of things made from recycled materials, again by the stallholder. I admit to guilt about not buying from her! Her ideas were so clever and colorful, and she so deserved encouragement, that it took me all my determination to remind myself that I’m downsizing, not adding to my possessions unnecessarily! My determination failed on the bakery stall, though, where I gave in to a mushroom quiche, which turned out to be quite out of this world when I had it for supper later that night. The bakery is named Flor de Azafran, but Google turned up nothing. I must assume it’s small and in Tegueste or maybe only cooks for the market. Whatever, if you go to the market make sure to taste something from them!
I couldn’t help thinking that there were probably tourists on the island that day who would have loved to have visited this touch of true, local life and color. It has so much more to offer that the sweaty, boob-crushing markets of the south. Sure, they have their place, just as the southern beaches do, but for anyone who maybe woke in a hotel bedroom Sunday morning wishing they’d gone somewhere a bit more adventurous, it was all there waiting, had they only known.
Having set off early, we still had time left to stop off for a stroll around World Heritage Site, La Laguna afterwards, where I achieved another minor ambition and climbed to the top of the tower of the church of La Concepción, from which the promised view of this beautiful, little city nestled in the hills was not disappointing – well, except for some calima which seems to have been hanging around all summer, so that backgrounds to photos become white-outs. We’d been warned we might not want to be up there when the bells rang out, but we were, and despite Colleen’s pose in the photo below (which she patiently recreated for me!) it wasn’t that bad, only being on the quarter hour!
I snapped away far too much to be able to put them all in this post. This place never fails to delight me – this, for instance, is the tourist information office!
So, someday soon I’ll get them all organized, and there will be more, as we came away with information about the walking tours and museum nights we’d been hearing so much about, and, mind you, with criticism as well from me, at least. The lady in the tourist office was helpful, but there was a woeful lack of information, considering this city is so important to the cultural life of the island, and the desired cultural tourism Tenerife wants. My local tourism office in El Médano has lots more information about events on the island as well as in the town or municipality themselves. I am staggered that La Laguna doesn’t do more to promote itself. Whilst it is an absolute dream of colorfully renovated, historical buildings, there is still work to be done, and surely tourism will help provide the funds?
And just to end on a happy/sad note – I found a shop which was selling some of the wines I’ve been trying this summer, but didn’t want to carry them around with me, so since they didn’t close until 8.30, and it was quite close to where we had parked, I intended to go back to buy a couple of bottles……..and completely forgot!!! ……. ah well, just another reason to go back!
What can you say about a day which takes you from cleaning up other peoples’ rubbish, to watching the happy release back into the ocean of two turtles which had been rescued and restored to health, to dining in a 5 Star Hotel?
I’ve always been kind of hooked on change and variety, as far back as I can remember, and so, in lieu of travelling to find it right now I am so lucky to be living on Tenerife, and to be able to enjoy all of this so easily! Yesterday I already listed all the things I didn’t do too!
As a Cruz Roja volunteer, I participated in the beach clean in Candelaria Saturday morning. To all intents and purposess the beach looked really clean already when we arrived, since the previous weekend had seen a very important fiesta, no doubt attention had been paid to the necessity to clear up afterwards, but it’s surprising what you find hidden if you just kick a stone. This was a joint effort by La Cruz Roja and the town hall of Candelaria, entitled La Mar de Limpia, and was to raise awareness as much as anything. It was really heartening to see so many children participating and taking so much interest, and very encouraging that Candelaria takes this so seriously, which was clear from a conversation I had with a member of the town hall staff.
When all the rubbish had been collected, which included a team of divers recovering things like bikes from the seabed as well as the usual cans, bottles and bits of old rope, two turtles which had been rescued in dire straights from the sea and restored to health by La Fundación Neotropico were released by members of that organization back into the ocean. Again, there were lots of kids, and with lots of questions too, which the members of Neotropico answered with great patience, and in great detail.
Turtles are fequent victims of our neglect or ignorance of the world in which we live. They ingest plastic bags, taking them for jellyfish and they become caught up in bits of old fishing nets or fishing line, which hobble them and make them unable to swim and dive as they need to do to survive. Given that turtles swim for thousands of miles without touching land, imagine how fatal it is for one not to be able to swim effectively. The speakers explained all this to the people gathered around, as well as details such as, where the ones we find in these waters breed, their life cycles and the work the foundation does in rescuing them. A sobering talk, but with a hopeful end as the kids waved and cheered these two on their way to resume their natural lives.
It was good to be out in the fresh air all morning, despite the heat, and it reminded me, amongst other things, that I’ve been spending too much time indoors since the weather hotted up! Must make more effort to be outdoors! Isn’t it a waste to live in this climate and NOT be!!!!!!!
A quick 40 winks and shower and I was off down the coast in the other direction, to dine with friends from England who are staying at the Hotel Gran Melía Palacio de Isora. The irony of the contrast between morning and evening, wasn’t (how could it be?) lost on me. This hotel is just beautiful, and our meal was delightful, but the evening was more about meeting up with old friends (who are really more like family) than about the food or the restaurant or the hotel, so maybe more another time, when they have formed opinions. For now, as I gazed across the manmade, but stunning, infinity pool, close to which we dined, I wondered if those little guys were out there, swimming, tasting freedom again, and hoping that they don’t have more encounters like the one which put them in the “hospital”.
Another busy weekend – this time, so busy I didn’t even have time to post! It’s strange how accustomed one gets to “scribbling” away on a blog, it becomes as much a part of one’s life as brushing the teeth or walking the dog, but, clearly it was the only thing which could give this weekend…….and, whatsmore, I didn’t do lots and lots of things which were on offer…….what I didn’t do this weekend was go to two of the three nights of folk concerts in El Médano, nor to the “side” events during the daytimes; I also didn’t go to the Festival of Divine Light in La Caleta, nor associated the Yoga Festival in Adeje; I missed the free music concerts in Los Cristianos (which, apparently, were terrific – Saturday night I got text messages urging me to go, but I was elsewhere!); and all of that was not to mention a fiesta in Las Galletas and private invitations to party or go salsa dancing……just in case you had any lingering doubts about life here being a touch on the dull side – you know, small island, a bit claustrophobic maybe?? Hah!
So, what did I do? Since I suspect that I am too tired to write it all up tonight, I’ll begin at the beginning, and might leave the rest until the morrow.
Friday night was the real kick off for the International Folklore Festival in El Médano, which I mentioned before. I have a feeling that this festival is going to grow and grow, and possibly become quite famous within the islands. There is one over on the island of Gran Canaria in Ingenio, which is famous throughout Spain, and which I have always wanted to visit, but seeing the program for El Médano’s own version it seemed just as good this year.
It began with a street parade of some (but by no means all) of the groups taking part, the missing ones being all local groups from different parts of the island, so I suppose they had other commitments, this time of year being so busy with festivals, and the Uruguayan one I saw on Wednesday night.
There were groups from Argentina, Indonesia and Mali as well as from Tenerife. Now, I’m as “meh” as most people about “folk” dancing in a way. I find it interesting, but not soul-stirring, until I realized that the amazing dances of Indonesia and Africa are also “folk”; and, as you can see in the picture above of the group from Instituto el Cimarrón, the tango is the dance of Argentina, (although there was a traditional dance from Argentina as well, see below)……now the tango is just about the sexiest dance ever, and puts a whole different light on this subject! Instituto el Cimarrón was formed in 1976 for the specific purpose of teaching the traditional dances, and sends a group abroad each year to spread the word.
Indonesian music and dance I know only from the wonderful videos my friend, Maria, posts of her travels there. They, like these wonderful costumes, leave me with a thousand questions. One thing which seems to set apart Asian folk dances is that they tell a story. Possibly I’m being presumptuous in thinking that European ones don’t. I realize that there are, both in Spain and in England, dances which were danced at certain celebrations or for certain purposes, but, so far as I know, not which actually tell a story.
Klub Peminatan, apparently, have won many prizes since being formed in 2007, with a view to making sure that traditional dances are preserved, and this is their first visit to Spain.
My love of things African is already noted here, and the music of Senegal and Mali I find absolutely entrancing. There is such an energy to it I can’t describe, and it really fulfills the purpose of bringing people together with its rhythms and almost forcing you to have a good time…….witness the way people are encouraged to leap onto the stage and dance during performances of even world-famous artists like Youssou N’Dour. My biggest regret over the weekend is not being able to see more of this fabulous group Africa Guedie. I’d love to be able to post a link here, but there is no information about them online as yet. The group formed only in 2008, so maybe it’s early days, although the program says they have already performed in France and mainland Spain, as well as the Canary Islands, and although they are billed as being from Mali, they seem to represent different West African countries so far as I can make out. I’m just keeping my eye open now for another of their performances!
When it comes to traditional, Canarian folk groups I’ve realized that there is a vast variety in quality, and the songs sometimes are just heart-rending, especially if you hear one of the exceptionally good singers there is around, the songs require a kind of purity of voice which is quite breathtaking. The whole genre is becoming more and more popular, with hours and hours of local television coverage of events. In this sense, it seems to me, tourism does native cultures a favor. I read somewhere recently, for instance, that the art of carving what we call totem poles had almost died out in the western US, having been kept alive only by demand from tourists. Someone has now realized this and is organizing things so that it doesn’t just become a memory. So it is with folk music here. 20-odd years ago it was seen/heard only at serious, local fiestas. Now there are groups performing at all sorts of different events, and town halls and other institutions are offering classes. Agrupación Folklórica Amazig, the group who appeared Friday night, pictured here, dates back only 3 years, but has already gained an enviable reputation, and it didn’t surprise me one bit to learn that fact after having heard them. Let’s be honest, European folk music can get a bit boring, but these guys really brought it to life. The other thing noted, as I remembered from the “living museum” in Chirche, was that there is a high percentage of young people in these groups, hopefully, ensuring the traditions are kept up in the future.
OK – I was totally right. I am beginning to nod off here, as I type away, so I will just end by saying that, YES, I DID have another brownie ice cream on the way home Friday night ( I know – shameless!), and as soon as I’ve shaken off the Sandman and taken care of other things tomorrow I will tell you about the beach clean, the turtle release, the dinner in the 5 Star hotel, the cooking demo in a little village and a wander around a UNESCO World Heritage Site. All this on a wee island of something a bit more than 2,000 square kilometers and under a million inhabitants :=)
I was a little bit shocked today. I googled Anne Mustoe – something I’d been meaning to do for ages and ages – and found that she died at the end of last year. I first read about this lady some years ago, when I was stuck in the awfulness of what passes as the real estate business here, and chaffing to be off, discovering new places, sights and adventures. There was this little voice inside of me (don’t tell me you don’t have one – even if you do shout it down), which kept telling me how ridiculous my ambitions were – I was about 56 at the time, so coming across Anne Mustoe’s books was affirming and inspiring. I don’t pretend to admire her writing style, but what she did was way impressive!
At the age of 54 she gave up her comfortable lifestyle to travel the world on a bike. Just like that, she decided, and she did it. Not only that, but she wasn’t one of these superfit, marathon-runnning, golden oldies, she was unfit, and she hadn’t ridden a bike in 30 years. She was naive, and innocent and totally unprepared for lots of the adventures she was to encounter ……..well, excepting that in her former life she had been a headmistress – and one in the best British tradition from all accounts….I remember them well, even if you don’t! To be sure, these were not ladies with whom you would mess! Here is her obit from Britain’s Daily Telegraph (apologies for quoting that, but it does give the best account of her life so far as I can see):
So, not only did she grab my attention for what she did, but also by nurturing her creative side and writing books about it – this, was, of course, mainly before the days of blogging, travel or otherwise. Whilst I found her writing to be, well, perhaps inevitably, a bit schoolmarm-ish, I found her exploits fascinating, and I admired her for becoming an unintentional bestseller.
I didn’t read them all yet, so there might be words of wisdom I’ve missed, but the biggest lesson here for me is just get out and do it. So many of us dream about it, talk about it, whatever it is. It isn’t necessarily travel for everyone. I’ve been down. I read Tony Robbins, and Jack Canfield, and Brian Tracy and Martha Beck in attempts to get back up, at one low point. Last year I read “The Secret”…..I could have saved myself the trouble of reading those other books, and just read that, which, essentially, sums them all up. It talks about the Law of Attraction. I believe in that, but essentially what that is, and what all the hours of reading or thinking or listening, conclude is to simply GET OFF YOUR BUM AND FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANT TO DO. That’s the secret which Mustoe understood without having to be told, maybe lots of people of her generation did, come to think about it. Maybe we’ve lost the way somewhere between the pub and the sofa. Robbins, Beck et al simply encourage us, provide examples of people (like Mustoe) who did it. Good for them if they can make a bundle out of kicking us up the backside to get us started, but basically it’s:
(1) Making your mind up and then
(2) Figuring out how to do it.
“Half the Sky” by-the-way, the book I keep harping on about on Facebook, is chock full of the most amazing stories of women doing far more extraordinary things than Anne Mustoe, but perhaps for women of a certain age she is easier to identify with….and here are a couple more examples of women who are currently doing it Babara Weibel from Hole in the Donut travel blog and Evelyn Hannon of Journeywoman, both of whom prove that you don’t have to be in the first flush of youth to follow your dream, in fact, in both cases their writing reflects the style and wisdom which comes with age.
I don’t pretend to have fully digested the lesson as yet, but since I was released from the rat race a lot of things I half knew have become clear to me, and the fear is melting away. Anne Mustoe was 76 when she died, not that old from where I’m standing, but there never is time to waste, because if you think you’ll get started next year, or after the next Big Mac, or after the next cigarette, or when you’ve plucked up enough courage, or whatever excuse you harbor, you likely won’t do it.
Someone at Nike understands it, but really, we should understand that wearing the T-shirt is not what it’s about, wear an old shirt but DO IT anyway!
Although I experiment with enthusiasm in winter, summer is just too hot for me to want to spend much time in the kitchen, hence my surprise and delight at how quick and delicious the stir fry I made tonight was……totally due to the amazingly fresh veggies I picked up at the finca Monday. Only trouble was I ate too much, and it left me craving the perfect dessert whatsmore, so that’s when I thought of puttering down to the town square to watch a Gaucho Show, no less, and stopping off to buy an ice cream on the way back.
This week Las Noches de Sansofé are bringing us folklore from around the world. I missed the inaugural concert last night, and hadn’t really planned on going tonight. It really doesn’t kick of until Friday, and none of my friends was tempted, work tomorrow etc etc (ah there are some pleasures in being unemployed!), but I was feeling so full that I knew I had to do something other than watch “Blue Planet” again, which is what I’d planned.
Stepping out into the mellow night air was pleasant. I tend to walk Trix before nightfall if possible, because she jumps at shadows, so it can be fraught walking her in the dark. The daytime wind had dropped away, and the streets were full of people just meandering around, families, lovers, kids on skates and skateboards and bikes, most of them heading down to the square. When I got down there the seawall was covered, as usual with the wares being offered by hippie community, and beach volley game was in progress.
Over in the square the MC was warming the audience up, and people wandered over to take their seats. Tonight’s speciality was a group from Uruguay, billed as a Gaucho Show. They were entertaining, and funny with it, and had the audience hanging on their every word or movement.
I looked around at the crowd, sitting not only on the chairs provided but on the walls and steps all around the square, as well as in the couple of bars there, it seemed to me that the whole town was out, and especially a large Uruguayan contingent judging from the whistles and loud clapping from one, particular section.
I know lots of these people are here on vacation, and I couldn’t help but think how different this was from being in Las Americas the other week. There, people trudged along looking a bit bewildered, dragging bored kids, as if finding somewhere to eat was a chore. Most of the entertainment offered in the restaurants and bars is pretty mundane (there had been a lady flautist where we ate, nice, but just background music. I didn’t even think of it in terms of entertainment). Here in El Médano, even if you are a stranger, these Noches de Sansofé really do work a magic which makes you feel welcome, and a part of the scene. These people, surely, must go away really feeling relaxed and refreshed after their stay here.
Strolling back, mouth watering in anticipation of the ice cream to come, I stopped to snap this mime artist. OK – I know they’re corny if you’ve travelled a bit, but I loved watching the face of a little girl who had obviously not seen one before. She was just spellbound, and when I popped a couple of coins in his cup, he responded, to my surprise, with a lovely smile and a “Gracias”!
Now, Heladeria, or I should say, Gelateria (because the ice cream is Italian, although the owner is a lovely, Spanish girl, and friend of Austin’s) Demaestri is going to be my downfall. Austin mentioned to me that Marile had opened it a few weeks ago, but I kept forgetting to go. My hips will live to regret the day I did a couple of weeks back! I’m, working my way through the flavors, and all, so far, have been to die for! Not so exotic as these, which Barbara Weibel of Hole in the Donut discovered in Mexico, but, well, the best in these parts, and I do not say that because she is a friend of Austin! You know how there are brownies, and then, there are PERFECT brownies? Well, their brownie ice cream is like a perfect, frozen brownie – I salivate at the thought! I can also recommend the white chocolate and the Malaga (the name in Spain for Rum and Raisin), and for flavors a bit more on the unusual side – cinnamon (more salivating) and one made with soya, which I now forget the exact mix of flavors, but do remember the yumminess!
I will always be curious about what’s over the hill. That’s one thing I know about myself. Already six months back here, and I am thinking about packing and a bit more downsizing, but I also know how very lucky I am to be living here right now. Let me see – fresh veggies, scrumptious ice cream, free entertainment, wonderful ambience, warm night breeze, and, let’s be honest, there could have been more had I wanted it, a glass of chilled, local, Malvasia perhaps as I sat in a bar with the waves lapping the walls?……nah, that would have been too much!
I see this blog as a kind of diary more than anything else, especially now that I’ve studied lots of other blogs, and have a better idea of what I do or don’t want to do with it. It’s read by some very old friends of very long standing (who’ve known me longer than anyone),who are probably the only people who are interested in my ramblings.
A lot of what I write is about life on Tenerife, “my” island home, but this isn’t a piece of journalism, nor is it a guide to the island (see my links for some excellent examples of those if you need them). So, I logged on this morning thinking I had nothing to write about. Last week was a very ordinary week, other than the Blues night in Lavabar, I didn’t take in any shows, or feasts or fiestas, (I’ve been a bit lazy, to be honest, it wasn’t that there was nothing on offer), but then, I thought, “……but isn’t that the essence of what I want to do here? Simply record an ordinary (to me) life, which isn’t, necessarily, ordinary to others who live in cultures and climates and continents far removed. Even good friends with whom I share a past or mutual interests or a common language, live lives very different to mine. I suppose that’s why blogging appeals to us so much. We really are fascinated by different lives, and places, and cultures, and by what connects and what separates us, and I suppose this is one reason for me, personally, that I don’t live in the country in which I was born and raised.
The trend is for travel blogs to become more like travel guides or books. I love both, my favorite reading without a doubt, but I like blogs because I’ve been able to follow the journeys of people to whom I’ve been drawn. A blog for me is a journey (life or literally), and being able to travel with the person who writes. This is one reason for liking this travel blog and also this one so much! OK – it’s also because the writing and the photos are great, but I like the feel of logging on, and wondering if the authors have posted about where they are now, and what it’s like, sharing thier adventure a bit.
So, for the record, here is my ordinary, unexciting week, which, possibly, someone living on another planet might find some interest in.
The default weather condition here in El Médano, as anyone who knows me knows, is W-I-N-D-Y, as in, always a stiff breeze, and often, just where I live here, meeting the wind head on and having to lean into it to walk without being blown backwards. I am sure the corner of this road is the windiest place in a windy town. So when Monday dawned as calm as the calmest day in the Doldrums it must have been really bad news for the international kiteboarders who had gathered for the Tenerife leg of the circuit, and when it continued into Tuesday it must have been downright depressing. I imagine this happens, though. I imagine the whole kiteboarding circus rolls into a town and the winds drop, and they say “sod’s law” , “here we go again”, or something, and break open the beers, take the chance to chill and mull over past triumphs and adventures (and, my god, must they have plenty!)
After a really boring and unsociable Monday the plan for Tuesday was to meet a friend on the beach in Los Cristianos and then have an early dinner. However, dinner turned into lunch, and we never actually made it onto the beach, although we did sit and watch other people on the beach, whilst eating huge ice creams……Puh-leeze do not ask about the diet!
The main beach in Los Cristianos seems very drab these days after living in El Médano. The users seem lethargic in comparison, and it lacks color somehow – could be all those superdrab sand-colored sunbeds? There was a time, years ago, when I used to love going down there in the summer, the beach was full of people doing things, beach volley was huge for instance, now there is only one court (is that the right word?) , and the place seems full of elderly people who just want to stroll or bake.
There is one seriously good reason for going to Los Cristianos beach, though, and that is the bar El Ciné, which, although it is hidden away behind the Bahia Bar/Restaurant which fronts the beach, remains the place to eat, as all locals know. Literally, the queues both lunchtimes and evenings stretch a long way, if you don’t get there early. Other nearby bars and restaurants are almost empty…….Don’t ya think, duh, that they’d try to figure out how Carlos, the owner, does it??? He has, in fact, been there as long as any of us can remember, and his secret is that everything is very, very basic and simple, but fresh, fresh, fresh. The tables and chairs are bog-standard plastic, the menu is very limited (I arrived early and there wasn’t even anything on the menu I could pick at whilst waiting), there is nothing fancy, the only alternative to fish or basic seafoods is chicken wings, the sauces (mojos) come in plastic bottles on the tables, instead of being served in little dishes. Ann and I both had sardines and salad. The salad was the simplest imaginable, just tomatoes and onion, but so tasty anything else would have spoiled it, and the sardines, were fresh and sweet and wonderful. Had you seen the queue Tuesday lunchtime at around 2pm when we left you would have felt compelled to give it a try. Why, on earth when there are so many empty tables at other restaurants, would people queue to eat at El Ciné you would wonder. Your average tourist, passing by, would maybe miss it, hidden as it is, but it is a magnet for local workers (including fishermen, so how much of a recommendation is that??), and people “in the know”, as well as the odd tourist who stumbles upon it and is looking for genuine, local fare – they usually come back night after night.
I took this snap last time Ann and I had an afternoon like this. Tuesday I had no camera with me, and we forwent the pulpo, in favor of papas arrugadas.
After lunch we sat, in best old-lady tourist tradition, and licked at ice creams from Via Via, an heladeria a bit further down the main part of the beach, their single cones for €1.60 are larger than the doubles in most places, and their chocolate mousse is to DIE for! So now you understand why we didn’t swim – we would, most definitely have sunk!……..could have done with a dip to get the sticky sardine smell and ice cream sweetness off my fingers though!
Sometime Wednesday the winds blew up and the kiteboarding began in ernest, which was fine for them, for the rest of us it was a glimpse of hell, the winds were hot, calima clouded mountains and horizons, and we sizzled until Friday evening they began to tail off and leave us with our quite normal, glorious, sunny August weather :=)
Thursday, I had something towards the other end of the dining experience, the marvellous Japanese/Chinese inspired dishes from Dim Sum in La Caleta. This is the latest venture from the Teppanyaki/Bianco chain, it opened only a few months ago and has been an instant hit, so much so, that one of the owners, and locally-well-known frontman, Rob, tells us that no advertising has been necessary! And this in the midst of the worst recession the world has ever known. Doesn’t that speak volumes for the quality of the place??
Here I go again – variety, you see, whether it’s culture, food or people, this place is a genuine melting pot. Strolling into the town center in the evening last week became even more fascinating than usual. You could sense the excitment in the air the competitors and their fans had brought, mixing with the the hoards of people down from the north for the week, kids building sandcastles, even in the dark, and El Médano’s own amateur talent show going on in the the town square, quite unlike the sedate strolling or feet-scrapping slopping about which had been the vibe in Los Cristianos earlier.
Other “average” kind of things? Well, Friday around 1 am night I spent an hour lying on a sunbed on the roof terrace, sheilding my eyes from the light pollution, which was more than I thought it was, hoping for a glimpse of a shooting star. I saw one, and it wasn’t as thrilling as some I’ve seen here, where the night skies are quite extraordinary. For one thing you can almost always actually see the sky, and despite the pollution there was, I could still make out millions and millions of pinpricks that were stars, as well as seeing the closest stars and planets shining like beacons. The place to have gone, really, would have been up into the mountains away from the pollution, but, as mentioned, I’ve been in lazy mood. Even so, it was a wonderfully calming and spiritual experience, but for sure, I won’t be so lazy next time, lesson learned.
Do you ever wonder why we are attracted to certain things? Music? Places? People? Why do I like pasta and you like curry, for instance? I’ve mulled over why Blues means so much to me thousands of times since I heard that first, plaintiff riff almost 50 years ago. I like jazz, but it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. I’m learning to like opera, and there is the odd time when the purity of a note makes me want to cry. There are some pieces of classical music, and there are some pieces of rock music which thrill me, but nothing else comes close to the mixture of happiness and soul searching and intense emotion which Blues brings out in me. When I listen to Blues I feel at home. Goodness knows why that should be, my background couldn’t be more WASP, but I’ve stopped asking myself now.
For years, the only Blues I heard was on discs, despite the Santa Blues festival, it truly isn’t that popular here. Then, one night in 2003 or 2004 I went to an open air concert in El Fraile, which is where I first heard local band Cotton Blues, belting out Stevie Ray Vaughn like they were born to play the Blues. I distinctly remember being on cloud nine, logging on and telling friends the minute I got home. Since then there has been a bit more, mainly at the annual festival in Santa Cruz, but I still had no idea where to go to hear Blues played on a regular basis in the south of the island at least. Now I know!
Let me tell you a bit about the venue first. LavaBar opened last year, and for the brief time I had left in Los Cristianos then it was my local. It’s situated close to the International School of Languages in Los Cristianos, and that site was chosen carefully by owner, Geert Huylebroeck. Geert, who is Belgian by birth, but international by inclination, is a lover of languages (he speaks five that I know of, maybe more), art, and especially music, and I’ve had the great pleasure of knowing him for several years now. The subtitle of the bar is “Language Variety”, and daytime, it is a place for cultural exchange via language. If you’re learning Spanish, for instance, you can stick a note on the wall saying that you would like to practice speaking with a native speaker who, in return, is learning English, so you help each other out. Hence the site near the language school. If you call in during the day for a cup of one of the amazing choices of teas and infusions Geert offers, or a lush cappuchino and pastry, the tables are full of people chatting in what seems like every language under the sun.
If you pop in in the evening however, there is no telling what cultural delight might await you. Every weekend is a feast for eyes or ears or both. Other than music events I’ve been to poetry readings, photography exhibitions, dance demonstrations and art exhibits, all aimed at encouraging local talent. You can see the latest exhibit on the walls in the background of the photos here. This one was due to change today.
So, last night’s performance was by local Blues aficianodos Marcelo y Marcelo, and all I can tell you is that, at the end of the night my comment was that I didn’t think, had we been in Texas, we could have heard better Blues. These guys don’t just sing and play, they live each set as if it is their last. There were times when I got a lump in my throat, which is the way good Blues affects me. They played from around 8.30 to just after 11pm, with a very short break, but for me they could have gone on all night! Because this is a venue one can accurately call “intimate” the full passion of their playing so close-up was electrifying, and because they could laugh and joke with their listeners between numbers, it had the air of jam session, but with the quality of highly polished performance. Really – it doesn’t get much better than this!
The bar is welcoming and attractive, as you can see, but not too big, so there are times when it’s standing room only. Happily it was just short of that last night, but from the thunderous applause from the Blues lovers present, you would have thought there were ten times as many. It’s the sort of place where, once you’ve been, you are remembered, and have no hesitation in calling again on your own. One young man wandering by last night heard the music and stopped, and was made really welcome. He stood shyly outside on the terrace, listening, to begin with, but when a place became vacant at the bar he took it with alacrity. It has to be the best place in Los Cristianos to meet up with people if you are travelling alone. OK lone travellers would usually not find themselves in Los Cristianos, a tourist trap, but if it’s well worth a visit to come to LavaBar, and it’s a handy base for travelling about the island too.
Usually performances are Sundays and Fridays. It’s the sort of bar you find usually in bigger towns and cities, most often university towns, aimed at promoting art in all its forms. You won’t find your Elvis or Bon Jovi impersonators and the music is music for listening, not for background music. Frankly, I write with reluctance, it’s one of those places you really would like to keep just for yourself, but it deserves to be applauded and recognized so hence my ramblings.
If it’s Blues specifically you’re looking for, you can check out the Web site for up and coming events, or if you find yourself in the area, just drop in and give it a try……..I hasten to add that I write here, as my friend, Leslie, says, “from my heart”. I know I might sound like an ad, but I can assure you nothing has, nor will, cross my palm :=)
