Sometimes a hangover is enough. I wanted to wake up with a sore head and a hairy tongue. Like so many of us who have lived under leaden skies for so long, I felt hungry for sun and fun.
So, on a rainy winter morning I boarded a BA flight to Tenerife, the largest of the seven Canary Islands. My husband and I drove to the west coast to the Ritz-Carlton, Alabama, one of the most glamorous resorts.
He was keen on tennis; my only purpose was to kick back with some long neglected novels and a glass of wine in hand. My copy of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair was left just before Wellington met Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo.
Our week in Tenerife ended in utter disappointment. In the best possible way.
Deirdre Fernand spent a week at the Ritz-Carlton, Abama, one of Tenerife’s most glamorous resorts.
The lazy vacation I longed for never came. All because a rock in the Atlantic Ocean belonging to Spain, 200 miles off the coast of Africa, seduced me with its mountains, forest paths and snow-capped volcanoes.
With temperatures averaging 22°C throughout the year, it is reliably warm and sunny. No wonder more than five million tourists visit Tenerife each year, with us Brits leading the sultry army.
If I had done my homework, I would have found that all of the island’s natural wonders are within an hour’s drive of our hotel.
It took a patient concierge, Carlos, to explain that we could visit Mount Teide or go whale watching – and still be back in time for dinner.
He spoke of sun-drenched vineyards and old villages clinging to the hills.
The hotel (above) overlooks the lush island of La Gomera and is an hour’s drive from all the island’s natural wonders.
“I promise you’re going to have a wonderful adventure,” he enthused as he waved us off. “Not many of our guests ever bother to explore.” It made us feel like Columbus had discovered the new world.
Mind you, it’s easy to see why so few leave the resort, built in the style of a Moroccan citadel and plunging from a hilltop to a sandy beach. With almost 500 rooms, eight restaurants, two of which have a Michelin star, and seven swimming pools, it is so big that a train takes guests from one end to the other.
We would love to spend our days by the infinity pool overlooking the lush island of La Gomera. But we knew that if we didn’t push the limit early, we would never break free.
I’m so glad we did. Following Carlos’ instructions, we walk down a winding road through the national park to the slopes of the volcano. The peaceful Teide, which last erupted in 1909, towers above us.
As we got higher, the temperature dropped and we encountered summer and winter.
Deirdre walked through Teide National Park. “The peaceful Teide (above), which last erupted in 1909, towers above us,” she says
Behind us we could see the sea glistening under an afternoon sun; ahead: an alpine scenery of spruce and pine. Soon we were above the tree line, between jagged rocks and lava fields, all 50 shades of grey.
It was the strange landscape we had heard about. When we stopped to take pictures, the cold wind stung our faces. With waves of icy mist rolling in, the rock formations took on an eerie atmosphere.
Relieved, we reach the Parador Canadas del Teide, the only hotel in the park, to defrost with hot chocolate.
Carlos was right about the adventures on our doorstep – and we actually made it back in time for dinner.
Deirdre explored Masca, a hamlet halfway up a mountain
Few visitors to Tenerife will know that around half of the island is made up of national parks or local parks and we were excited to see more. Another trip took us north to Masca, a hamlet halfway up a mountain.
It was first settled by the indigenous Guanches who lived here before the Spanish conquest 600 years ago and is home to about 50 people. Until the first road was built in the 1970s, it was only accessible on foot or by mule.
Our guide, Manuela, took us along these old paths, stopping to look at the sea in the distance. It was a different kind of wild beauty: waterfalls, cliffs, rock pools and dizzying canyons.
If only I could tell you about the boat we used to see the whales. Or the lazy afternoons we spent tasting the rosé from the local vineyards. But we have too little time. Too bad I never opened my copy of Vanity Fair. I wonder who won the Battle of Waterloo…
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James is an author and travel journalist who writes for The Fashion Vibes. With a love for exploring new cultures and discovering unique destinations, James brings his readers on a journey with him through his articles.
