In the Land of the Giants - A Walk to Playa Seco

The Teno Mountains, in the west of the island, end abruptly at the sea forming towering cliffs plunging up to 600 metres into the ocean at Los Gigantes (The Giants) and it is from these that the resort takes it's name. These rugged mountains boast spectacular mountain scenery with remote villages nestling in the vast valleys or barrancos, that separate the various ridges in the area. The most famous of these is Masca, a tiny, Canarian village standing guard at the start of the popular Barranco De Masca walk that descends for around 600 metres through the labyrinthine ravine to the sea. Between the Barranco de Masca and Los Gigantes are two other barrancos, the Barranco Seco and the Barranco Manchas de Los Diaz and it was these that I set off to explore from the village of Santiago Del Teide at 8.30am on a beautiful May morning. Following the ridge above El Molledo, I reached the path into the Barranco Manchas de Los Diaz after around an hour, and with many of the surrounding mountains still cloaked in shadow, began the descent into the gloomy ravine.
I knew that the walk would be fairly tough so I had planned an early start to give me as many hours of daylight as possible. In the event it turned out to be prophetic as a series of circumstances led me on a marathon walk that saw me staggering back to Santiago del Teide at 7pm in the evening. As I descended into the barranco on a good, partly paved path, the prominent tower of Roque Blanco (above) stood bathed in sunshine on the opposite side of the valley, over 700 metres above Playa Seco. A raven flew overhead croaking it's woody call and looking back, if I was a more suspicious person, I may have seen it as a warning and turned back there and then but I was enjoying myself immensely as I descended rapidly, with no inkling of the trials to come. The path descended steeply and at times was fairly overgrown and this was to be the start of my problems. Trying to round a bush growing across the path, I stepped on a large boulder lining the way, which promptly rolled and caused me to fall, landing heavily on my left leg, which had buckled double under me. The pain shot through my knee and I sat for a moment massaging it and once the pain subsided, slowly stood up. I was quite surprised to find that I seemed to have suffered no ill-effects and after putting my full weight on my leg, decided I had had a lucky escape. I continued unhindered downhill and arrived at the Galeria Junquero. The galerias are tunnels bored into the rock to access water contained in underground aquifers, from where much of the islands water is obtained and there are many examples scattered around the mountains. Here, there was a gated tunnel with large keep out signs and a tajea, or gutter, with fast flowing water (right) issuing from the galeria. This was to prove a lifesaver later in the day but now I was intrigued by an old building and rusty old rails and rail-trucks that lay around and wondered what they could have been used for. The rock hereabouts was a chalky white and I wondered if this had at one time been a mining area for obtaining minerals, possibly calcium. Up to now the path, aside from being overgrown in places, had been easy to follow but suddenly became indistinct. I found myself in the streambed looking for the way, which I found and promptly lost again as I was diverted by the maintenance path of the tajea, which now led to a rough block building being constructed in the side wall of the barranco. Adjacent to this was a cave containing building materials with a bridge over a gap leading to the building fashioned from some of the old rails tracks. Judging by the rusty generator in the cave, it seemed as though the project had been abandoned for some time and I retreated in search of the onward path. Having once again located this, I continued down the streambed, which was proving very difficult to negotiate as it continually disappeared over dry waterfalls. This combined with scrambling over large boulders was not helping my knee, which was starting to stiffen slightly. I arrived at one waterfall with no obvious way down, I could see the onward path on the far side of the fall but there was no way of getting to it without hanging over the edge of the fall and shuffling along on a ledge around five metres above the streambed. This may not sound very high but it actually feels a lot worse when you have to hang over it clinging on with your fingers and toes. After some time spent trying to determine the best way of negotiating this obstacle I eventually managed to get across and continued down the streambed (right) as the higher path along the barranco walls had by now completely vanished. After around four hours of diversions and climbing down waterfalls, I had my first glimpse of the sea and found myself a short time later standing on Playa Seco as the surf broke on the rocky shore. The huge cliffs towered over the boulder strewn beach and I was amazed to the see the jaunty colours of an umbrella as well as numerous craft in the bay which included jet-skies, tourist boats and divers dinghys. I assumed that the people with the umbrella had arrived by boat as they did not looked equipped to walk in the barranco. I crossed the beach, (below) which proved difficult walking across the boulders to the mouth of the Barranco Seco at the other end where I stopped for lunch. The plan was to investigate the Barranco Seco, which I knew led to the pass on the Masca road and if viable, follow it to the road before walking along the tarmac back to Santiago Del Teide. If it didn't prove to be a viable route, I would turn around and retrace my steps back up the descent path in the Barranco Manchas de Los Diaz. After sitting for a while enjoying the sunshine and watching the boats in the bay, I set off and entered the Barranco Seco, soon locating some stone cairns along the stream-bed and encouraged by these, started following them. After around half an hour, the path left the streambed and began climbing and I soon found myself clinging to the side of the barranco wall with no obvious onward route. I knew that if I was going to turn around, I needed to make a decision soon, which I did, and descended back down the barranco to the beach. Since the fall, my knees seem to have stiffened up and I was now having problems walking over the boulders as I crossed the beach. Not only did I have sharp pains shooting through my left leg due to the fall, but my right knee was also stiffening, presumably due to me compensating for my left leg, and this coupled with the rough four hour descent had obviously taken it's toll. On reaching the far side of the beach and my descent route, I was now stumbling regularly on the boulders, my balance seriously affected by the problem with my knees. I began climbing back up in the now very hot sun, tripping over the rough ground as I skirted around large boulders and it seemed to take an age to progress along the streambed before I reached the large waterfall I had struggled with earlier. I decided that the best way to tackle this was to climb up the rock face of the waterfall, as I has missed the turning for the path along the cliff wall and didn't want to retrace my steps looking for it. Again, from below, the waterfall looked an easy scramble up the rocks but when you're clinging on by your fingers and toes, it seems much higher. After a tricky climb, I eventually pulled myself onto the top and sat to regain my breath and cool off, although this was proving difficult in temperatures around 30c! As if this wasn't enough, I now had a new problem, I ran out of water! I always carry two litres of water with me and half a litre of an orange juice/water mix but all I now had was half of this left and no water at all. I knew this was serious as I was now thirsty and the heat in the barranco was stifling with no breeze and little shade. I had to get back to the Galeria Junquera and hope that the water was drinkable. From there, I knew the serious climbing would begin and water would be essential if I was to get back to the top of the barranco wall. After a slow plod and with my mouth like a sandpit, I reached the galeria and after testing it, decided that the water was probably safe and filled up my bottle with two litres. I now began what was probably the most gruelling climb of my life as I staggered on my near useless knees in the blazing sunshine up the barranco wall towering 760mtrs over me, seemingly reaching into the sky. I stumbled on, tripping regularly as my knees refused to lift my feet high enough off of the ground and rested every 30mtrs of ascent, taking shade wherever I could find it. Just as I was settling into a rythym, I suddenly had a severe bout of cramp in my right thigh muscle, presumably brought on by dehydration, although by now I had drunk around three litres since setting off all those hours ago. I sat massaging my thigh to relax the muscle and once it had passed, stood once more to continue my way up the wall of rock that seemed to never get any smaller. After an interminable time and many more rest stops, I finally reached the lip of the barranco and sighed with relief at the sight of the town of Tamaimo in the Santiago Valley that I had last seen over nine hours before. I still had around an hour to walk back to Santiago Del Teide but knew that the serious climbing was done and staggered back towards the village, suffering yet another serious attack of cramp in my thigh along the way. Having massaged this away, I set off again along the walled path into the village with barely had enough energy to celebrate the wonderful sight of my car parked at the side of the road, where I had left it 10.5 hours earlier. The relief should have been immense but I was too exhausted to be overjoyed and sat in the car to rest for a few moments before driving home reflecting on the fact that the giants had almost claimed a victim.

Thinking back, I came close to having to call the emergency service for the first time in my life and wondered if I could have done anything differently. The main problem was obviously the fall and had I felt pain upon standing after this incident, I would have turned around at this point. If I made an error it was trying to return up the Barranco Seco instead of resting on the beach and returning the way I had come down the Barranco Manchas de Los Diaz. However, at this point I didn't feel that my knees were causing me any real problems, it was only as I started up the Barranco Seco that this problem started to effect me significantly. The water problem was largely caused by my progress, which was so slow that I eventually ran out. I was lucky that I had passed the Galeria Junquera earlier in the walk and knew that I might be able to top-up when I reached it again. . This unfortunate series of events combined to put me in a situation that, while never really life threatening, would certainly have been embarrassing had it been necessary to call for help. My route is marked on the map in red and you may need to zoom in to see it once you have clicked on it.

A Walk in the Anaga Mountains

This video was shot on a beautiful walk to the village of Taborno and around the summit of Roque Taborno.

Sombrero de Chasna

With the Royal Wedding celebrations in full swing, I did the only sensible thing open to me, I climbed a mountain! Setting off from just above Vilaflor, I climbed to the near 8,000ft summit of Sombrero de Chasna on a cold, but mostly clear and sunny day. After an extremely steep start, the path levelled out to enable me to enjoy the superb views down to the south coast. Ragged clouds drifted across the slopes as I made my way to the caldera rim with the summit of Teide slowly revealing itself as I climbed. At the foot of the Sombrero, I scrambled up the rocky staircase to the summit for more views to the south coast and in the other direction to Teide. After leaving the summit, I walked to the edge of the caldera rim, which I followed above sheer cliffs plummeting hundreds of feet to the caldera floor below, before descending back down through the pine forests. More photographs from the walk

Sombrero de Chasna

Walking the Royal Road

The Chasna Royal Road is an ancient trade route that from pre-Hispanic times up until the end of the 19th century linked Vilaflor, Spain's highest village, with the north of the island at La Oratava. This route is a high-level traverse of the island, crossing the high mountains via the Las Cañadas National Park and was at one time the quickest way of travelling between the two regions. Traders would carry their wares on the backs of donkeys, oxen and sometimes even horses, mules or camels, as they led their laden animals on foot, walking alongside them as they toiled up the steep mountainsides. The trail was also used by goat-herders heading for the high pastures of Las Cañadas as the heat dried out the grazing in the lower parts of the island. Even in the height of the summer, the huge caldera still provided grazing for animals, as it once had for the Guanche's animals before the arrival of the Spanish wiped out the indigenous island population. The ruined house of Casa Marrubial can be found along the path and marks what was once an overnight resting place along the way for the goat-herders and their flocks as they headed for the summits of the island. The way was also used by farmers as they went to work in the terraces and Casa Golindo, at the top the El Atajo (the shortcut), the steep hill out of Vilaflor, is now the only remaining finca still operating along the way. The first section of the Crater to Coast walk, which follows the path over the Degollada de Ucanca, is a branch of this ancient way. This lesser used branch, avoids the main GR131 long distance route to the east of Tenerife's fourth highest summit Montaña Guajara, descending to the west of this impressive peak and could not be more different scenically to the GR131 route. Whereas this official route traverses the stark, black-sand dunes of Montaña Arena, the Crater to Coast walk descends through the wild and beautiful Barranco de Eris de Carnero (below), which is framed on one side by the impressive tower of Roque Encaje and on the other by the cliffs of Montaña Guajara. In early summer, the way down is lined with Tajinaste Rojo and Teide Broom, that occasionally encroaches on the path and this, along with the rough, boulder strewn going underfoot, gives the walk in this area an undiscovered feel. Later on in the walk, after descending alongside the lower sandy slopes of Montaña Arena, the route eventually joins with the more populated Paisaje Lunar or 'Lunar Landscape' path back to Vilaflor. The whole of this section of the Crater to Coast route is scenically spectacular, passing through the majestic scenery of the Las Cañadas National Park to Vilaflor, Spain's highest village, with Teide, the islands 'Jewel in the Crown', providing a wonderful backdrop to the beginning of the walk. Last Saturday, I led a group of walkers along the route on a superb day, with very clear views to the coast 8,000ft below the Degollada de Ucanca pass. After around five hours walking, we descended through the 'Corona Forestal' pine forest and admired the carpets of orange California Poppies that greeted our arrival in Vilaflor, adding a vivid splash of colour to this attractive mountain village. For more photos click here

View from Roque De Jama

Towering 2,500ft over the southern hill-town of Valle San Lorenzo, the peak of Roque De Jama dominates the local scenery. This prominent landmark is a phonolythic dome - the interior of an old volcano that has been exposed by erosion - and is the largest example of it's type on the island. Valle San Lorenzo is a bustling town, easily accessible by local bus from Los Cristianos or Playa De Las Americas, enabling you to easily get to the start of the walk to the summit of this impressive mountain. Although a fairly short walk, it is quite a steep climb, initially along quiet country lanes until you leave the tarmac and begin the ascent of the peak. The walk is graded as 'difficult' in the book although this does not relate to the 'effort' required for the climb but the problems encountered along the way. These include a very steep, tricky path that is often quite hard to locate as well as sections of exposure near the summit that will not suit those suffering from vertigo. Fortunately, as I climbed to the summit today, the conditions were fine, if a little cloudy at times but I still had excellent views down to the coast and surrounding towns. Overall, the walk takes a little over 2.5 hours giving you plenty of time to enjoy a drink or a meal in one of the many bars and restaurants to be found in Valle San Lorenzo before catching the bus back. One of my favourite eateries in the town is the Meson Era Las Mosaz, which is a little difficult to locate as it is in a backstreet behind the BBVA bank but is well worth searching for. Make sure you have a good appetite though as the portions are enormous and you will see many people leave clutching a bag of uneaten meat. Last time I was there on a Sunday lunchtime, it was packed to the rafters and diners were treated to an impromptu concert given by two customers who entertained us playing singing and playing guitars, creating a wonderful atmosphere. The short video below shows various views from the summit of Roque De Jama.

Walking in the Monte Del Agua Rainforest

Yesterday, I spent the day walking in the Monte Del Agua rain forest, one of the most scenically stunning locations on the island. Tucked away in the north-western corner of the island between the village of Erjos and the the town of Los Silos some 3,000ft below, it is a remnant of the laurisilva forest that once covered southern Europe and North Africa. Tenerife is home to some of the only remaining pockets of this ancient forest making it one of the few locations where you can still walk through this remarkable landscape. As one would expect, it is often cloudy and damp in this region and yesterday was no exception as I left behind the blue, cloudless skies of the south for the overcast and humid, albeit dry, conditions of the forest. Clouds scudded across the hilltops on the descent to Los Silos as I admired the abundant flora along the way, with fantastic views opening up of the surrounding barrancos and laurel clad mountains. The descent into Los Silos is around 11 kilometres with the return trip to Erjos being only around 5.5 kilometres. This is not the advantage that it may seem however, as the whole return trip is steeply uphill, a very tiring walk of around two hours. Despite this, I arrived back in Erjos five hours later, weary but elated at having enjoyed a marvellous walk in a beautiful part of the island. Video below.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

One of the attractions of Tenerife as a winter walking destination is that you can be fairly sure that you will be spending a lot of your time walking in sunshine. Similarly, you can also be sure that you will be walking in mild, if not hot temperatures. At least that was my experience up until this week. For the past two or three days, the island has experienced temperatures the like of which have been more akin to an early spring day in the UK. Yesterday, I was guiding on a walk in the west of the island and the scenes that greeted us were more Lake District than Teno Mountains. Starting from the village of Santiago Del Teide, we began to climb the attractive mountain path to the Degollada de La Mesa (pass). This eucalyptus and pine clad valley is my favourite way to the summit of Pico de Gala and follows a normally dry streambed as it winds uphill through endemic plant life and pine trees. Yesterday however, we had an additional attraction to entertain us, a beautiful mountain stream complete with waterfalls! One of the things I miss about walking in Tenerife is the total lack of permanent rivers so this was a wonderful bonus, enhancing what is already a lovely walk. As we ascended, we turned to look beyond Santiago Del Teide and were greeted with another unusual sight, peeking just below the cloudline. It is not unusual to see Teide snow-clad in the winter but now, as well as the lower flanks of the volcano gleaming white in the general gloom, we had views of the lower hills also covered in a silent white carpet of snow. Reaching the pass, we enjoyed the stunning views into the Masca Valley before climbing to the summit of Pico de La Mesa for an even more impressive vista. This was followed by a walk on an enchanting path through a section of laurisilva forest, one of the few remaining pockets of this ancient woodland that at one time covered the south of Europe. As we emerged from the woods, we gazed down on the Erjos Pools, disused quarry workings that have now been reclaimed by nature. These pools are fairly unique on the island and it often seems odd to see moorhens gliding across the water in Tenerife accompanied by the sound of croaking frogs. On this visit, the pools were full to overflowing and the footpaths in the area were doing a good impression of fast flowing streams as we splashed our way back to Santiago del Teide.

Paradise Found Out

While putting together the routes in the Ifonche region for 'Discovering Tenerife on Foot', I became aware of a large amount of work happening in the area on path upgrading. In fact, because of this, I eventually altered the end of the Ifonche route to include a section of path that I later discovered was the new GR131 route from Arona to La Esperanza. One of the reasons for writing the guidebook was that I knew there were many paths in the south of the island that weren't, as far as I was aware, detailed in any guidebooks. As I reconnoitered the paths in total solitude I realised that the GR131 would pass through three of the routes in the book, the Ifonche route, the Crater to Coast route and the Vilaflor Circular. A few days ago, while walking the Vilaflor Circular, I had the unusual experience of meeting a number of other walkers, seven in all plus a group of mountain bikers. This may not seem a lot but I have walked this route quite a number of times in the past and have never met anyone else on it. One of the beauties of waymarked routes is that they take away the doubt and uncertainty when walking in unfamiliar countryside but this can also be a drawback because it popularises previously uncharted walking territory. Routes that previously allowed you to walk all day in solitude attract more walkers and this seems to be happening with the new GR131. For most, this is not a problem but I must say that I personally love nothing more than walking alone and not seeing a soul all day. Of course, this may seem a selfish desire, and probably it is, but I am always on the lookout for the more remote, unused paths in preference to the well-walked trails. Alfred Wainwright, author of the famous Lake District guidebooks, was often known to hide when he saw other walkers heading in his direction but his superb guides are responsible for drawing more walkers to the area than any other. He would probably never go out into his beloved mountains now with the huge amount of walkers to be found clambering over the fells, many ironically inspired by his own guidebooks. I wouldn't say that my preference for solitude extends to those extremes but I understand where he was coming from. Hillwalking is one of the few pastimes where you can totally get away from all other distractions and lose yourself for a day. Although a fairly small island, it is still possible at the moment to walk in Tenerife without seeing too many other walkers and enjoy a sense of solitude and adventure. However, as more and more paths are signposted and routes created, it must be hoped that it does not become more difficult in the future to find peace and solitude as the island attracts more walkers drawn by the GR131 and other waymarked paths. While it is good for the local economy that Tenerife is becoming a destination for walking holidays, as well as the traditional sun and sand for which it is renowned, it is to be hoped that the very thing that attracts them in the first place isn't lost under the bootprints of armies of holidaying hikers.

The Beautiful South

'The south of Tenerife is a barren wasteland once you get outside of Playa De Las Americas, you have to go to the north for decent scenery' Or so I am often told. A recent remark by a friend, similar to the above, started me thinking about this common perception of the landscape in the south of the island as barren and desert-like, unworthy of exploration and the only reason to visit the south is for the sun, sea and sand holidays normally associated with this area. Being a walker, my first visit to the island was filled with curiosity as I had been advised that, being a person who enjoys the outdoors, I wouldn't like a destination where all there was to do was sit in the sun all day on the beach or around the pool. Upon arrival, the first thing about the island that immediately caught my attention was the strange, mountainous landscape a few miles inland from the coast. Immediately I wanted to put my boots on and explore. While the coastal regions were very barren and volcanic, the mountain scenery looked more promising. Sure, it didn't have the 'chocolate box' greenery of somewhere like the Lake District in England but for me that was a bonus. This was something different, worthy of further investigation. I have always had a love of landscapes that some describe as 'bleak', often exclaiming 'Wow! look at that', while others are complaining that 'it's not very green, is it'. 'Bleak' isn't the right word to describe what I witnessed on my first visit, mysterious yes, exciting yes, barren maybe, but bleak no. Having purchased a couple of walking guidebooks so that I could get out into this wonderful countryside, I was disappointed to note that there were only a handful of walks in the south of the island. Having walked these routes and frequently been amazed by what I had seen , I began to wonder why these books seemed to largely avoid the south. Having noticed large quantities of walkers at the bus station in Los Cristianos heading into the hills, I thought it was a shame that there weren't more guidebooks offering more routes in this part the island, so I set about writing a guidebook detailing all of the walks I had found for myself. Over a number of years, during numerous visits, I have walked through the quiet, remote beauty of the Ifonche region, the wonderful pine forests of the Corona Forestal, in impressive barrancos such as the Barranco De Las Vegas and the Barranco Del Rey, to the top of mountain viewpoints and passes such as Montana Colorada and the Degollada De Ucanca, to the sadly deserted village of Las Fuentes and to the spectacular viewpoints of the Cauldron and the Mirador La Centinela. While I recognise the beauty and fantastic walking opportunities of areas such as the Anaga, Teno and the Orotava, not to mention the Las Canadas national park, I think it's a shame that the south is often dismissed as having nothing worth investigating when, in my opinion, nothing could be further from the truth.

Roque Del Conde

Recently, I climbed the prominent southern peak of Roque Del Conde. This table-topped peak is very visible in the southern resorts and one I have climbed many times via the usual route from the small village of Vento, near Arona. Some time ago however, I climbed it from the Degollada De Los Frailitos on the north side of the peak. This is not the usual route that is followed by most walkers from Vento in the east but is a difficult and fairly dangerous route involving scrambling up cliffs. As I reached the summit, I came across a plaque fixed to the rocks 'To Ichasagua - Free People's Mencey'. Having visited the summit many times before along the usual route, I had never seen this plaque before and I became intrigued by the person and events that it commemorated. I was also aware of the existence of a mural painted on the wall of a ruined building below the peak showing a Ichasagua holding a club with the mountain in the background. After a little research, I discovered that Roque Del Conde is also known as Roque De Ichasagua, which is a reference to Guanche Mencey (king) Ichasagua, who led a guerrilla war against the Spanish in 1502. Ichasagua was the Mencey of Adeje and led Guanche rebels against the Spanish after retreating to the highlands from the conquest in 1496. The conquistador Fernandez De Lugo landed his troops at Los Cristianos but the guerilla warfare skills of Ichasagua held them at bay for many months. Changing tactics, the conquistadors, used sympathetic Guanche nobles to negotiate a meeting with Ichasagua close to Roque Ichasagua, but he was betrayed and De Lugo and his troops were lying in wait. Realising he had been betrayed he killed himself by plunging a dagger into his chest to avoid being taken captive.