I thought I’d done my research. I’d read some books, browsed Google Maps Street View and trawled countless websites for inspiration . But I still wasn’t prepared for how ethereally bewitching the north of Tenerife really was. In my mind, this was an island represented by cheap booze , full English breakfasts and week-long squabbles between the Brits and Germans over who placed their towels on the sunbed first. More fool me. What I experienced on just a short trip changed my whole view of this beautiful island.
My friend and I drive our hire car from the main international airport in the island’s south and my snobby assumptions initially seem confirmed. The busy motorway snakes past resort towns populated by boxy, bland hotels. Signs advertising Siam Park, supposedly the “world’s best waterpark”, increase in number.
But continuing north, the roads quieten, the altitude increases, and the landscape becomes greener. All of a sudden we’re in what appears to be a Canarian version of Hawaii . Cloud-cloaked forests of native laurel trees, soft with dew, surround the winding road whilst the volcanic heft of Mount Teide pokes into our fields of vision.
We’re headed for Garachico, one of Tenerife ’s historic towns, which juts out to sea on a one-time lava flow. The town, like most of the island, was conquered by the Spanish in the 15th century and its architecture reflects this more colonial style. Grid-pattern streets are lined with elegant buildings, and the high walls guard peaceful courtyards inside what were once the homes of wealthy merchants and have since been turned into boutique hotels .
The journey into the town encompasses steep roads – it’s a treacherous, yet thrilling, drive. Garachico’s streets surround a small square filled with residents and tourists enjoying sundowners served from a bandstand-turned-bar. Local Dorada beer served cold is just €2.50 for a large glass.
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The relaxed atmosphere extends to the restaurants; these small and close early but serve hearty Canarian fare alongside tapas (usually seafood) staples. Proa Norte, a restaurant-cafe-bar combo set just away from the centre of town, is the kind of place you want to stumble upon on your holiday. It offers simple, cheap and delicious seafood tapas. Cuttlefish calamari (€8.95), fish croquettes (€7.50) and gambas al ajillo (huge prawns baked in infused olive oil) (€9.50) are the stars of the show – so much so that we returned twice just for them.
The next day we set off for Mount Teide, the island’s imposing volcanic centrepiece. Our guide Dario is giddy with excitement as we wind our way up into the mountains from the coast. Facts pour out from him excitedly: Tenerife was actually formed out of three volcanic islands; microclimates areso acute you can see them on different sides of a mountain ridge; a massive eruption in 1492 was seen by Columbus while en route to the Americas.
The clouds that had shrouded our view of Teide from the coast fall below us as we climb towards the caldera, the miles-wide bowl shaped by volcanic activity over millions of years. Laurel forests turn to pine trees and what once looked like tropical Hawaii now looks similar to the sierras of California .
“Tenerife’s landscape can be encapsulated in one word,” Dario says. “Diversity.”
And from our perspective, he couldn’t be more correct: from the barren, beige gravel of where we flew into the south of the island, to the dark green laurel forests of the north, and the jet-black lava flows on top of Teide.
The views from above 2,500m stretch to the neighbouring islands of La Palma and La Gomera, and the volcano is littered with impressively jagged rock formations formed by hollowed-out magma chambers and ancient beds of lava. It’s an environment that looks like a Martian landscape.
We eat lunch at the only habitable building on top of Teide, a restaurant in the Parador de Las Cañadas del Teide hotel. The food is a window into a Canarian cuisine I knew little about, one markedly separate from Spanish. A local cheese plate is brought out to start, followed by tender roasted rabbit bathed in a bittersweet garlic and pepper sauce. A delicious bowl of Tenerife’s famous wrinkly potatoes – boiled until tender and then baked in salt to shrivel – accompanied the meal. All of this was washed down with refreshing glasses of Canarian white wine, earthy yet subtly aromatic.
The next morning, Dario is ready to show us the island’s history, and so we head to the university city and former capital of San Cristobal de La Laguna. The town is more reminiscent of Cartagena than Cadiz. Dario explains that the city was built in the 15th century as a blueprint for what would become Havana in Cuba . Baroque and neoclassical mansions and monasteries, some of which hide courtyards, line the streets of this student city, a place filled with bustling cafes, restaurants and bars.
Afternoon takes us out the city and towards Anaga forest. This peninsula stretching northeast from La Laguna is the wettest part of the island but also the greenest. Mountains draped in cloud forests remind me of the world of Jurassic Park. A drive of many hairpins takes us across a ridge from mirador to mirador with vistas that make you think you could swing like Tarzan to the other side of the valley.
For our last evening in Garachico, we revert to type, enjoying again the simple pleasure of dining on fresh seafood tapas while sipping ice-cold local lager. Northern Tenerife has been biding its time for too long, waiting for its moment to be noticed. With the southern resorts feeling busier than ever, it feels like that moment should be now.
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