Winter Sun and Winter Storm

 

Last week I escaped the miserable January weather and went to Tenerife with my sister for a few days.  This is the first time I have experienced a ‘Winter Sun’ holiday and the first time I have ever been to Tenerife. I always been a bit snobby about holidays to popular destinations, preferring to delude myself that I am a traveller rather than a tourist.  Costa Adeje, where we stayed was an entirely purpose built resort with zero evidence of local culture.  But oh it was bliss.  Temperatures of 21-23, ideal for me, a comfortable room and nothing to do but lounge around by one of the pools reading. It was a ‘spa’ hotel so there was one of those bubbly pool things. I liked that as it was warmer than the main ones so I left Sylvia to swim up and down seriously with her nose clip on while I took it easy in the bubbly bit. 

There’s a brick walkway along the seafront and landscaped ‘gardens’ with palm trees and neat rocky beds with huge cacti. The coastline is rocky - the first day we were there was breezy and there were huge waves crashing in - it reminded me of Portstewart I where we used to go to the seaside in NI. The sand on the beaches is dark though - nearly black in some parts - as Tenerife is a volcanic island. Turning left from the hotel on our first day, we explored the attractions along the promenade, windowshopping and browsing in the upmarket shops near the hotel. As we walked on there were more restaurants and bars catering for UK tourists with large screens showing Premier League football matches (just what I wanted to escape) and those places where you put your feet in a tank of little fish which eat away the dead skin. Yuck!  And a huge ‘Irish’ bar called Waxy O’Shea’s which seemed to be a popular attraction.  And young men selling fake designer handbags laid out in neat rows on the pavement.  Amongst all of this there were one or two really nice restaurants - our favourite was one called The Moon. Another day we turned right from the hotel and walked along the coastal path to La Caleta, supposedly a fishing village but in fact just more up market hotels and restaurants that offered similar food as the ones to the left but with white tablecloths, better views and extortionate prices. 

Us in the hotel’s rooftop ‘Sunset’ bar.  

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Complimentary liqueur in The Moon served on a tiny glass

 Meanwhile at home a storm was brewing. At breakfast we met someone from Co Down who recognised Sylvia - she tests her children’s eyes. Their flight home on Friday had been cancelled. All dayThursday there were red alerts for Ireland  - schools closing, everything closing - even Tesco. Good job too - the storm was fierce on Friday morning there. Four of the huge Leylandii in front of Sylvia’s house were uprooted, blocking the entrance to her drive and smashing the fence. No one was at home - her husband also away on skiing holiday.  They returned home on Sunday to chaos and a cold, dark house - no power.  Last I heard they still had no electricity and she was showering at the leisure centre.  Luckily local farmers have cleared the trees - they’d be waiting a long time for the council on their little back road. And the good news is that Rossi, their semi-wild cat with even more than nine lives, survived the storm. 

Here in Chester we got off lightly - it was just a bit windy.  I’m back home now to cold, rain and mud. Cheering myself up with Spring flowers.