TENERIFE (E)   DIARY  5

               From Diary 4.
16/11. Day 9. I head back to Santa Cruz, to visit the Sunday flee-market at Rastro de Santa Cruz. It turns out, Santa Cruz is having a marathon, and the police have closed off a big part if the major roads for cars. I finally find a parking space, then join two Moroccan girls, living here, to the flee market. But then it turns out, it is closed due to the marathon - real bad exchange, if you ask me. Watching a marathon is like watching paint dry on a frosty morning.

Then I comfort myself with the lovely Mercado de Nuestra Senora de Africa Besides from the numerous delicacy shops, Sunday have drawn in some local jewellery artists and alike – some from the flee market, no doubts.

An old fart is sells homemade sandals and other leather works. And he have some snap fastener, I’ve been looking for. I make his day too – despite I realising; I can’t mount them before I get home.

I see the flowers, spices, hams, fresh meat, butchered chickens, olives, nuts, odd fruits, vegetables, beer, wine, fish, sea creatures in general, bread, cookies, cakes, ice-cream, bees wax work and a lot more.

Outside to cool the camera, and get an overpriced coffee, at a ice popsicle joint. Their ice is homemade with fruits and not addictive. Never seen that before.
An old couple of Englishmen try to find the flee market. We get a long chat, and they appreciate meeting another countryman! Well, most tourists are Spanish, German and Russians.

As expected, getting out of the city causes problems as well. I finally make it to a mountain road, connecting small sleeping villages. Here is absolutely no action at all. Falling chestnuts make the most exiting life.

A panderia in El Sobradillo supply my brunch at noon, then I aim for La Esperanza, just as a waypoint, in an unfamiliar area. It is just as Sunday dead as the others, and I fail to find anything remotely interesting.

Another cross village-land set of roads, bring me home. At a thousand meters, there are some fog and forests, both vanished at 600 meters, where the big city starts to appear, way down at the coast. Another patchwork of villages, all havening real steep roads. I ollow a huge ravine for some part of the way.

The sun leaves Puerto de la Cruz, just as I arrive, but I just park at Playa Jardin anyway. A few tourists lay at the black sand, but are not aloud to swim. I fail to grasp the attraction of this area.

A kilometre along the rocky coastline, the harbour area is found. Here are some older houses, the little fortress and a lot of tourists along with the shops and restaurants that goes with them.

I exchange the fake leather pouches I have all my gear and camera in, with two in leather. As a bonus, the Moroccan shop-owner tells me a bit of his life.
The street along the coast are popular, but not crowded. I fail to grasp the attention of the area too – might be that I restrain from munching on cake, ice-cream and beer.

I find a one euro coffee, and enjoy it at the wall to the cliffs. While looking for a few items, I actually succeed finding a 5ml nail-polish, and at €0,81, it is sold. A half meter lightning/USB C cable, on the other hand, is unheard of. Or any other half meter cable, for that matter.

The streets behind the beachfront is low-key in comparison. But the buildings are charming in their own decaying way. I grab another cuppa, before the unusual short drive home. It is actually way shorter, than when I walked.
The highlights from Day 9. All photos :Day 9.

17/11. Day 10. The day will be spend on the north-eastern coast. Or rather; the highland, as roads are non-existing along this coast. However, I start in San Andrés. Once more, I fail to understand why the autopista traffic grinds to a hold, time and time again.

I get peckish, and stock some food and a few tiny gadgets, at the huge Chinatown and the supermarket next door. And while I’m at it, a café con leche.
San Andrés on the southern coast of the north-eastern part have this golden beach and Los Órganos, which I missed last time I visited. Well, it is fare from as impressive as I had expected.

Then the road meet the coastal mountains, and just as I think: That stops development, one of the numerous villages sits on the almost vertical mountainside. I fail to see the attraction on this location, just as I fail to figure why the desert areas are filled with terraces, and the fertile, green mountain slopes not. 

A little road; TF-121 leads in to the low mountains and Lomo de la Zapata. It follows the coast, way up on the steep mountain side, and the views are great. Both to the small beaches and up the Euphoria cowered mountain sides.

I loop little Lomo de la Cruz, then follow the even smaller trail, further up the gorge. This is Parque Rual de Anaga, made up by pretty untouched ravines in the large mountains. My camera fails, but I continues by foot, when the road turns into a rocky trail.

Here are many native plants, from lichen, ferns and bulbs over Kleinias, several succulent and several succulent Euphorias. And invasive agaves and Opuntias.
When I feel I have seen what the area can offer, on both sides of the ravines, I head slowly back – wishing I had a camera to capture the beauty of the area. The iPhone don’t work with one hand, while driving. And it lack so many facilities.

A huge horseshoe around San Andrés, and op to the central ridge and minute Charmoga. Then it turns out; TF-12 is permanently closed in a San Andrés, and I have to go all the way back to Santa Cruz.

While I’m here, I might as well buy a new camera. I park underground, next to the market and try several photo-shops, before I give up, finding a Canon. I settle for Kodak, pretty much the same, but in plastic. A quick cuppa, and out on the autopista. It is packed.

I spend two hours, driving five kilometres. I figure, I might as well stay at the autopista, and head home. Then I save the north-east for tomorrow, where I will have better time to enjoy this rural area.
And I get home at the usual time. Strangely enough, everyone else it taking it nice, to spend their life in line.
The highlights; Day 10. All photos :Day 10.

               And then into the last page; Diary 6.