Despite having lived and walked in Tenerife for three and a half years, the island continues to surprise me. Yesterday, as forecasts promised temperatures rising to the mid-
thirties by the early part of this week, I set off for the Anaga Mountains from the south with the temperatures already nudging the high twenties. As I drove north, the whole island appeared to be quietly simmering in the heat, with the haze as evident over Santa Cruz and La Laguna as it had been in Los Cristianos in the south. Turning off of the TF5 autopista, I headed for the mountains and was surprised to see a white topping of cloud slowly tumbling over the summits and hanging over the nearby valleys as I headed towards the village of Las Mercedes. Climbing up into the Anaga Rural Park on the steeply winding road, the atmosphere changed abruptly as I passed through laurisilva forest, the wet roads evidence of the moisture laden cloud drifting through the branches and condensing on the leaves before dripping onto the tarmac below. Soon, I was forced to turn on my headlights and slow my speed considerably as I was having difficulty seeing more than a few yards ahead in the gloom. Arriving at the Casa Carlos restaurant, I parked and surveyed the scene, or I would have had there been one to survey. Normally, from the restaurant there is a fantastic view into the Afur valley, which was my destination for the day but now all that was 'visible' was a swirling white blanket hiding everything apart from the nearby flora. Setting off, I followed the steep path in eerie silence down towards Taborno as it passed through tree heather dripping with condensation from the moisture laden clouds. From Taborno, I followed a contouring path through giant ferns and brambles, the wet ferns soaking my shorts as I pushed through them before arriving at a house that abruptly materialised from the mist. A woman brushing the path outside the house wished me 'buenos dias' and I replied 'mucha bruma', which in the circumstances probably didn't need saying and as I continued downhill, pungent smelling woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire mingled with the fog, as more houses materialised out of the mist before de-materialising just as rapidly .
thirties by the early part of this week, I set off for the Anaga Mountains from the south with the temperatures already nudging the high twenties. As I drove north, the whole island appeared to be quietly simmering in the heat, with the haze as evident over Santa Cruz and La Laguna as it had been in Los Cristianos in the south. Turning off of the TF5 autopista, I headed for the mountains and was surprised to see a white topping of cloud slowly tumbling over the summits and hanging over the nearby valleys as I headed towards the village of Las Mercedes. Climbing up into the Anaga Rural Park on the steeply winding road, the atmosphere changed abruptly as I passed through laurisilva forest, the wet roads evidence of the moisture laden cloud drifting through the branches and condensing on the leaves before dripping onto the tarmac below. Soon, I was forced to turn on my headlights and slow my speed considerably as I was having difficulty seeing more than a few yards ahead in the gloom. Arriving at the Casa Carlos restaurant, I parked and surveyed the scene, or I would have had there been one to survey. Normally, from the restaurant there is a fantastic view into the Afur valley, which was my destination for the day but now all that was 'visible' was a swirling white blanket hiding everything apart from the nearby flora. Setting off, I followed the steep path in eerie silence down towards Taborno as it passed through tree heather dripping with condensation from the moisture laden clouds. From Taborno, I followed a contouring path through giant ferns and brambles, the wet ferns soaking my shorts as I pushed through them before arriving at a house that abruptly materialised from the mist. A woman brushing the path outside the house wished me 'buenos dias' and I replied 'mucha bruma', which in the circumstances probably didn't need saying and as I continued downhill, pungent smelling woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire mingled with the fog, as more houses materialised out of the mist before de-materialising just as rapidly .
Descending to the 1,400ft contour, I was suddenly treated to a superb view into the Barranco de Guardoz and as I continued, the village of Afur came into view below me. 
Descending further, I reached the outlying houses of the village clinging to a ridge and followed a paved path down into the bottom of the the valley. 
The fertile valley is known for it's stream and as I crossed the bridge to the village it was clear the flow of water, which in the winter months almost becomes a river, would soon be reduced to a few rockpools until the winter rains returned.
The main part of the tiny village consists of a few houses and a church haphazardly arranged along the valley road and 
often, when arriving in places as remote and isolated as this, I feel a little like an intruder, so I didn''t hang around long before locating the path out of the village. 
Climbing steeply, I arrived at a ridge and the amazing site of abandoned cave houses hanging precariously in a cliff-face, a wall built in front of these dwellings being all that stood between the original occupants and the valley floor several hundred feet below. Having passed this awe-inspiring sight, I re-entered the mist and climbed to the tiny hamlet of Roque Negro, where I located a relentlessly steep path up to the ridge road, which I followed back for a couple of miles to Casa Carlos. 
From here, I observed a cloud inversion in the Afur Valley and the amazing sight of the nearby summits protruding like mystical islands from a sea of white cotton wool before I set off on the drive back south in brilliant sunshine. Full size versions of photos below.
8 comments:
Good report Gary, certainly wet's the appetite for walking on Tenerife.
It's certainly an impressive area SW but very steep. The fog made for a very atmospheric walk and certainly didn't spoil it. However, I will go back some time and do it again in clear conditions.
wow, the walk today sounded so cool and moisture-full and lush, not experienced much in Tenerife when i visit family in costa del silencio, must have felt refreshing, from the heat and dryness usually experienced, i would like to do that walk and see the stream...thank you for posting...julie
Hi Julie, it is certainly a much different environment to Costa del Silencio. The stream would be much more impressive in the winter so I think I'll go back later in the year when there is more water about. You never know, I might get to see more of the views too.
Fab fotos!
And funnily enough, we were in Tenerife Monday, returning yesterday afternoon. It was certainly hot enough for most people but good to know that you can still find cooler places for walking.
Hi Ann, Glad you liked the photos. I think the heat would have been pretty unbearable without the fog to cool things down a bit!
I'm so glad you re-tweeted this. I could remember it, but not when you had posted it, and after my experience the other week I was wondering where to go next.
Although it was my first "real" visit to the Anaga Mountains I have to say that it is a constant amazement to me, even after 24 years, that people think that the climate of the south is the norm, and that they don't understand that the climate of Anaga, for instance, is normal if that's where you live, and then the beaches of the south are "odd". This island contains so many variations of climate, and I weary of trying to explain to people these days!
I know what you mean. When I was doing the Coast to Coast walk in England recently, I walked one day with someone who had climbed Teide. He told me that he couldn't live in Tenerife because he would miss the seasons. When I told him that we do have seasons here I could tell that he didn't believe me. There are so many misconceptions about the island.
Post a Comment