Sunday was the last day to participate in the Puerto de la Cruz Ruta de Tapas and we’d only managed to try three restaurants and six tapas so far. This was our last chance to notch up a few more.

Seafood kebab with gazpacho

We began at La Clave on Calle Puerto Viejo. A stylish Galician restaurant with tables and chairs outside and a New York-style counter inside, we’d wanted to eat here ever since it opened and the tapas route was the perfect opportunity.
We ordered our ‘one of each’ tapas and sat back with the accompanying glass of beer to study the route and see where we wanted to go next.

The food arrived; black rice with cuttlefish and ali-oli; and seafood kebab with gazpacho, all beautifully presented on plain white crockery. The seafood kebab was cooked to perfection, the gazpacho was just okay (but that’s more to do with the fact that I’m not overly keen on gazpacho) and the black rice was delicious. In the time we were there, four more tables became occupied by tapas routers clutching their blue ‘passports’ in their hands.

We’d realised that several of the participating restaurants were only serving up until 3pm and so time became a factor both in our choice of venue and in the time we could afford to linger over each stop. So, leaving a five Euro note on the counter, we downed our beers and headed to the next stop.

Cuttlefish and seafood tempura, or Tiger, Tiger!

At the top of the harbour with tables and chairs laid out on the opposite pavement is Bar-Restaurant Oregón.
Within minutes, the elegant glasses of beer had arrived and the tapas was on its way. Lying on top of a crusty piece of brocheta and striped with orange and black sauce so that it looked like tiger kebab, was a crispy cuttlefish, seafood and vegetable tempura. The sauces were mojo rojo and soy sauce and the barbecued smokey flavour of the tempura combined with the sauces was fantastic.

By now I’d noticed a couple of things; firstly I recognised several of the people who’d been at La Clave so there was a small band of us doing this food crawl, and secondly, I was beginning to feel tipsy.
The clock was ticking and we still hadn’t decided which restaurant to make our third and final so once again, a fiver was placed on the table, our passports were stamped, we downed our beers and off we went.

Mushroom hat

It was between Restaurant La Guapa which was offering stuffed calamari and stuffed peppers or Restaurant Maga which had a seafood filled shell and a mushroom hat on offer. We opted for Maga on the grounds that we’d never eaten there. When we arrived, the tables were empty, but within minutes other tapas crawlers had arrived and the terrace was buzzing.

It turned out to have been the right choice because the mushroom hat was excellent but the seafood filled shell, although small, was a real taste sensation.

Passports stamped and appetites sated we relaxed with our beers while we deliberated over which restaurant to vote for. Over the past two weekends we’ve tried eleven tapas in six restaurants and we haven’t been disappointed with any.
Eleven beers later I can honestly say  – what a brilliant way to try restaurants and food – Puerto should do this every month – hic.

As usual, time was way ahead of schedule leaving us breathless in its wake.
Trying to herd visitors through the streets of Puerto de la Cruz on a Saturday night when there’s so much to see, was proving a difficult task. We’d been told that if we didn’t get to the Majestic before about 9.15pm we’d be hard pressed to get a seat and now a puppet show outside the church was threatening to keep us late.

We finally climbed down the steps into The Majestic at 9.35pm and made a bee line for an empty table slightly behind the mixing desk.
First thoughts on perusing the room were that we’d wandered into a Saga outing. Most of the tables were occupied by a mix of British ex-Pats and holidaymakers, most if not all of retirement age and beyond. I was beginning to wander if this might have been a mistake but I couldn’t see bingo cards anywhere and anyway, we’d already given our order to the ‘personality’ waiter who was mincing about the place like Alan Cumming on speed.

Nicely set up with our drinks in our comfy seats and an only slightly impaired view of the stage for me, the evening began with a short quiz to identify world airline logos and then it was time for the house lights to go down and the footlights to come on.
For the first half of the show Bitter and Twisted (John Sharples and Barry Pugh) took us on a simulated flight around the comedy world of airline attendants which included free peanuts for all (none of that no-frills nonsense on Majestic Airlines), several stunning costume changes and multi-lingual, word-perfect miming.

After the interval the regular Bitter and Twisted Show got into its routine with a level of professionalism and hilarity that has us all howling with laughter and wiping the tears from our eyes. Particularly memorable were the Miss America and Amy Winehouse sketches but the icing on the cake was the uproarious rendition of It Should Have Been Me which is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.

In between shows there was banter with the audience, a raffle and a live rehearsal by John of a new song entitled Saturday Cowboys, a beautiful reminisce about a boy’s obsession with the movies before the age of video and the Internet. I was very tempted to go back the following night to see its inclusion in the show.

There’s no charge to get into the Majestic; drinks are amazingly good value; the atmosphere is friendly and fun, and Bitter & Twisted are quite simply fabulous.
We couldn’t believe it when we looked at the time and it was 1.30am. The entire evening had passed in a whirl of laughter, false eyelashes, sequins and wondering if the waiter would make it through the night without a visit to the Coronary Unit.
I can’t recommend it highly enough. Go!

The Majestic is on Calle Cardogan (off Calle Valoise) in Puerto de la Cruz and the Bitter and Twisted Show is on Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights from 8pm.

You can quote all the arguments why people opt for ‘all inclusive’ deals when they go on holiday, but in the last week I’ve witnessed first hand why for local businesses they are as a welcome in a resort as an outbreak of swine flu.

First of all it was Playa Paraiso. We wandered around the little resort during prime lunch time hours. What we saw came as a complete shock.

Every restaurant and bar was almost completely empty – it was a ghost town. And yet there are big hotels right in the centre of the resort… and they weren’t empty. But their occupants weren’t leaving the premises. Even the little beach was empty and the rows of sun beds lay unused.

Lonely Sunbeds

I’ve been reading constantly about the decline of Puerto de la Cruz, but of course we have a thriving and vibrant local scene here; there’s always something going on and Canarios flock here at the weekend, so the reports never quite match the reality. The same can’t be said of the smaller purpose built resorts where the AI hotels are draining every last bit of life from the streets.

Our next experience of the dramatic impact of AI was in Playa de la Arena at the weekend. We’d spent the Saturday night in Puerto de la Cruz, showing my sister and her boyfriend the town.
We’d eaten tapas then strolled along the streets of the old town, where living statues and unusual puppet shows entertained the throng of visitors and locals, before heading to a packed ‘The Majestic’ to watch what must be one of the best acts on the island, ‘Bitter & Twisted’, perform their show which had us all in stitches. It was two in the morning before we knew it.

Switch forward 24 hours and we’re sitting in a bar in the centre of Playa de la Arena at 23.30. There is no-one else in the bar, or any of the bars nearby. It’s uncomfortably quiet.

“It’s the AI,” the owner tells us. “It’s changed everything.”

There are plenty of people about the resort during the day, enjoying strolling around what at this moment is still a pleasantly relaxing resort. However, most of them might as well be carrying bricks and lobbing them through the windows of all the businesses that they pass.

And this is what really irks me about AI. People choose the resort because it has a nice feel to it (maybe they don’t; maybe they’re not arsed as long as the hotel gives them all they want for their handful of silver), but when it loses that feel because the restaurants and shops become boarded up what will they do then? They’ll stop coming, many of them oblivious to the fact that it was they who hammered in the nails on the ‘for sale’ signs.

I’m hoping there will be a backlash and it’ll come sooner rather than later. One business man told us that some of the AI customers who did come in to his bar moaned that the quality in the Playa de la Arena hotel had plummeted. You might say that as a local businessman who has suffered, it’s no surprise that he would say this.

But recently my neighbour, who like many Canarios spends some weekends in hotels in the south, cut her stay at the Playa de la Arena Hotel short and returned north because she thought the hotel was a disgrace.

It’s a crying shame, but unfortunately greed will ultimately consume and destroy. And in the case of AI hotels, the ‘greed’ accusation shouldn’t simply be levelled at the ‘welcoming foyers’ of the people who own the hotels.

I just hope that there are enough people out there for whom quality is more important than quantity and that the age of the AI will come to an end sooner rather than later.

Bien, ahora volvemos a ser conocidos y no precisamente por nuestro atractivo turístico, sino por ser el hazmereir de muchas personas que no se explican como se puede habilitar un aparcamiento en el cauce de un barranco. A muchos les puede sorprender pero a mi, sinceramente poco, pues en este municipio se hacen cosas sin cabeza. Sólo hay que darse una vuelta por él. He oído que sólo 4 municipios tienen aprobado un Plan de emergencia municipal y no creo que Puerto de la Cruz sea uno de ellos.

Por otra parte seguro que nadie en el marco de la concesión de la bandera azul para Playa Jardín haya identificado como un posible riesgo, el hecho de aparcar en el cauce del barranco que desemboca en dicha playa. 

Things happen for a reason – sometimes it’s good, sometimes not.

Don't anyone go 'aaaw'. He's a cat, he belongs outside.

Take yesterday. We’d just had the most wonderful weekend with my sister and her boyfriend who were staying in Playa de la Arena. They’d come across to Puerto de la Cruz on Saturday and the weather had been glorious. Sunday was the same. In fact the weather only deteriorated when we headed through the crater towards the south coast where it was quite moody and overcast. Ironic to think we were leaving the sun and the heat in the north.

Andy and I returned to Puerto on Monday morning where it was still clear blues skies… and then the world ended.

The first signs were that the sky darkened.

“Hmmm, I think we’re in for a bit of rain,” Andy made what must be the understatement of the year so far.

An hour later and it was full blown monsoon and the thunderous skies were booming. The deluge was spectacular.

At that point Whiskas decided that our house was his favourite after all and appeared at the window like a drowned rat. It might seem harsh, but setting a precedent with that cat is a dangerous business, so he was refused entry to the ‘ark’. There are plenty of places where he can stay dry.

All afternoon we watched the rain come down in sheets unaware of the devastation it was causing outside.

At around seven Andy decided to make some soup and tabouleh for lunch for the next couple of days, but a couple of phone calls from the UK delayed her. Funnily enough, both started with ‘It’s horrible here, windy and raining…’ - Guess what?

So it was later than planned when we started preparing Mediterranean chickpea stew for dinner. It’s a one pot wonder and I’d barely added all the ingredients to the pan when the gas jet went off.

Now we operate a two canister system for this very reason. However, it ain’t much use when both bottles are empty. Andy had been telling me that we needed to replace the gas for days, so she was a bit tight lipped as we threw on our coats and headed out into the rainy night.

As we passed the golf course gate, Glen, who works at the course, was huddled in the darkness. He’d been waiting for his wife for two hours and had been having trouble getting through on the phone.

We offered to give him a lift, but he assured us that his wife was due any moment.

Apart from a few rivers of boulders on the main road to Puerto, there didn’t seem to be much of a problem. We collected the gas and headed back home. As we were returning through the banana road we noticed a sodden looking figure wrapped in refuse bags; it was Glen.

This was as close to the rain as I wanted to get - through the front window!

It turned out his wife couldn’t leave their house in Los Realejos, boulders were blocking the road and he was resigned to having to walk home in the shocking weather. Los Realejos is quite a few kilometres away on the opposite side of town. We could hardly let the poor man walk, so we told him to jump in and headed back into town, this time towards the motorway… and it was at that point we realised that the rains had cause much more havoc than we realised.

There were flashing lights everywhere as police and firemen tried to make some sense out of the chaos. The motorway was gridlocked and the approach roads the same. Luckily we had opted for a back road to Los Realejos and although the roads were a mess we managed to avoid the queues. In the dreadful conditions it still took us an hour to get Glen within a couple of hundred yards of his house and then get back home via the centre of Puerto where traffic was quieter.

Amazingly we crossed the barranco (ravine) where later we saw on TV a rushing torrent of water washing away cars. Funnily a couple of years ago one of us commented ‘I wonder if there’s ever any water in there’ – now we know the answer. At the time we crossed it, about 20.45, we didn’t even notice that there was any water in it. I think all of the action had taken place by then.

We ended up finally sitting down to dinner at about 22.00 having done our good deed for the day.

Had Andy not decided to make soup and tabouleh before we cooked dinner (she doesn’t usually prepare lunches at that time), or our friends phone from the UK and had I not left replacing the gas until it was too late, we wouldn’t have ever left the house last night and Glen would probably have had to walk home in the awful weather. It was one of those little series of events which worked out well for him.

We were especially glad that they did – it was his birthday and having to brave monsoon conditions is no sort of birthday present for anyone.

Top Tapas

“My tapas is crackling.”

“What? Your tapas is cracking?”

“No, not cracking – crackling.”

We all looked down at the artfully presented ravioli de papa ‘sopresa’ on my plate and listened. To other diners we must have looked quite odd, the four of us with our ears almost pressed to a small plate of ravioli.

But there was no mistaking the noise… the ravioli was crackling and popping like a plate of Rice Krispies. There was only one way to find out why. I popped a bit in my gob.

“Jeeeeesus…” My mouth exploded in a cacophony of snap, crackle and pops. “It’s ‘space dust’.”

As ‘sopresas’ go, potato ravioli with space dust was a particularly unexpected one.

“Que sopresa,” I commented to the trendy waiter.

“Si, claro,” he grinned like a Cheshire cat.

We were in Casa Pache, our third stop on the Puerto de la Cruz ‘ruta de la tapa’.

It's Cuban Rice... but not as you know it

At that point we’d been already been presented with some imaginative tapas dishes including cuttlefish in a cilantro sauce and small pork fillets with caramelised onions and curry sauce in El Establo; seasoned minced pork encased in pastry and a truly original version of Cuban rice in Los Príncipes Café and then the ‘space dust’ ravioli and red risotto in the wonderfully eclectic Casa Pache – one of the best restaurants in Puerto.

The tapas routes are a fantastic idea. For €2.50 you get to try all sorts of fabulously mouth watering (and crackling) creations accompanied by a glass of wine, water or beer. The beer was ‘caña’ sized (more or less a half pint), so all in all a pretty damn good deal. There are 28 restaurants participating, so there’s a lot of tapas to try… and a lot of beer and wine to accompany them.

We called it a day after three restaurants, but the standard was so good that I’m eager to try a few more. However, the competition to find out who has Puerto’s best tapas finishes on 22nd of November, so time is in short supply and the choice dizzyingly extensive.

Who knows what else lies out there – prawns in a sherbet fizz sauce maybe, or ‘Angel delight’ flavoured chorizos?

Okay, you might not get presented with anything like that, but what I can guarantee is that you will definitely get to sample some ‘crackling’ good tapas.

Eran las 17:46.Lo se exactamente porque he revisado una conversación a través de internet con una amiga,y en ese momento exacto le comentaba:

- Voy a poner el trípode a ver si cazo algún rayo.

Rayos no cace,ahora,algo iba a pasar.¿¡Poner el trípode en la ventana con la cámara mirando hacia la calle debió ser un gesto de provocación involuntario hacia la fuerza de la naturaleza!?
Sobre las 14:00 horas,el tiempo dio un cambio repentino.Había amanecido con sol,ni una nube.Nada hacía presagiar que unas horas más tarde,exactamente sobre las 18:00 horas,me vería bajando las escaleras de mi edificio de dos en dos sin cinturón y con la cámara en mano.Lo primero que hice,cogerla,lo segundo,acojonarme un poco.El ruido era ensordecedor,como si unos tanques estuvieran desfilando ahí al lado o estuvieran pasando un avión militar.
Por primera vez desde el año 68 (y evidentemente,en mi vida) se podía volver a ver el agua correr por el barranco que tengo frente a mi casa.Y de que manera lo hizo,por todo lo grande.
Un espectáculo que se llevó por delante coches,contenedores,ramas de árboles,escombros y todo lo que pilló por el camino que se cruzase en su devastadora y veloz trayectoria.
He de reconocer que me quede impactado,y como yo,todos los vecinos que no dudaron en invadir la calle.Los que tenéis un rio cerca estaréis acostumbrados tal vez,pero aquí os puedo asegurar que no.Ni estamos acostumbrados a esto ni tenemos rio.Vamos,un hecho histórico para muchos.
La fuerza del agua es increíble y por mucho que lo hayas visto en TV,estar cerca y notar como tiembla el suelo que pisas,razón por la que la policía nos insto a irnos de allí,es otra cosa muy diferente.El resultado;escombros,un par de coches y otro par de contenedores casi en la arena de la playa,ya que conecta con el barranco a través de un jardín,carreteras cortadas,casas con barro en lugar de agua en sus grifos,centros comerciales desalojados.Un caos del que no será fácil recuperarse,sobre todo las familias mas afectadas por el fenómeno.
Las condiciones no eran las mejores,ya que diluviaba mientras,pero algunas tomas pude hacer,como esas 3 que veis,que han sido publicadas en el periódico EL DÍA,de lo cual estoy tremendamente contento.No todos los días se consigue además una en portada.

La polémica está servida:
“La Isla no está preparada para algo así”,”No se debería dejar aparcar en un barranco”,”Las infraestructuras deben mejorarse”.
En fin,como dijo mi padre:”Lo que es del barranco,es del barranco”.
Así de simple.

Omar García.

Banda Sonora: Deftones – Beware the Water (Pincha para escuchar)

Ayer sufrimos en el Norte de la isla de Tenerife una tormenta que no se sabe muy bien de donde salió. Hay rumores, algunos apuntan a Marcos Brito y otros a Lola Padrón. El caso es que cayeron 1524421,32 Litros por metros cuadrado, una burrada y una cifra inventada que pretende ilustrar el palo de agua que cayó.

Bueno, pues si tenemos en cuenta este Twit de un servidor:

Truenoooooooos, El Invierno llega al Muelle del Puerto de la Cruz…

Publicado sobre las 3 de la tarde, podemos ver que tan sólo unas horas despues (no mas que 3 por la claridad del dia) es decir, a las seis y pico de la tarde (o antes) ya habian subido videos al youtube como este del Barranco San Felipe a la altura del barrio de La Vera:

Tambien habian fotos en redes sociales como Tuenti (A las que no puedo enlazar).

Es increible como estas herramientas nos sirven tanta información y nos dan datos sobre cualquier cosa que esté petándolo en alguna parte del mundo en tán poco tiempo. Como decia José Frechín: Twitter es el primer canal de noticias… Youtube no se queda atras

Una de las herramientas que más ha ayudado es la implementada por el colega José López de GAT, el Twitter de TráficoTenerife que nos ha traido mensajes de otros usuarios como estos:

Cortada la crta. de entrada al Pto. de la Cruz por Martianez Via: @alejandroamador

Precaución, muro caído en la autopista a la altura del Rest. Miniño – La Orotava/Puerto de la Cruz Via: @alejandroamador

TF-21 / DESPRENDIMIENTOS-20:51 h – 16-11-2009 OROTAVA (LA) () del km. 10.5 al 10.5. Sentido:CRECIENT..http://tinyurl.com/yz3lgsl (Via: DGT)

CURSO DE FORMACIÓN DE TERAPEUTAS ENERGY

I guess we can expect a lot of births in early August 2010 then...

Heading into Puerto de la Cruz last night, we arrived at San Telmo to be stopped in our tracks by the sight of the moon. Larger than a Star Trek holodeck creation, it hung over the horizon in the perfectly still, cloudless night casting its luminous glow over the La Orotava Valley and the Ocean.
It was a magical sight and one that gave me a warm inner glow and made me realise once again how lucky we are to be living in such a beautiful place.

When we got to the bar, I asked a young Venezuelan friend if he and his girlfriend had seen the huge, romantic moon outside. He said he hadn’t and, glancing sideways at his lovely chica and looking decidedly worried, he whispered that such a big moon often led to pregnancy and he made a beach ball motion over his stomach just to emphasise his point.

And there was me thinking it was just mad dogs and werewolves …

I am actually standing on the doorstep of moving from being technically obese to being actually obese and it’s all St Andrew’s fault – you’ll have to check out this link to find out exactly why.

If it hadn’t been for him, then the harbour area at Puerto de la Cruz wouldn’t turn into a minefield of nose-mugging aromas during the whole of November until the fiesta of  San Andrés actually takes place.

On the way to masochistically have our nerves shredded (i.e. watch Man Utd leave things till the last minute and then some again before saving the day) we had to pass not one, not two, not even three, but about seven San Andrés stalls whose goodies shouted and taunted us all the way with offers of giving our taste buds the time of their lives.

Everywhere conical braziers glowed orange in the darkness. On top of each were either roasting chestnuts, or sizzling skewers of pork seasoned with a special potion which had the magical qualities of being able to turn the wafting smoke solid so that it stuck two wispy fingers up my nose and dragged me towards its source.

It was enough to drive us insane and by the time we fought our way through I think my mouth was dripping saliva like an Old English Sheepdog’s.

Scores of people hadn’t been as lucky, or strong willed as us and had succumbed to the temptations. Everywhere I could see people tucking into pokes of chestnuts, or peeling succulent chunks of pork off skewers with their teeth; their eyes glowing with a fervour bordering on ecstasy.

This time we made it through, our waistlines undamaged, but there’s only so long we can hold out and it’s just the beginning of November.

I fear it won’t be too long before it’s a case of ‘fat and happy land’ here we come.

Expect the good people of Puerto (and visitors) to be looking a bit more portly than usual this month.

Hmmm all that roasting food and new wine and all as cheap as ch... chestnuts

The other night we watched an excellent movie, Changeling by Clint Eastwood, which had us shouting at the outrageous injustices taking place on the screen in front of us – we do tend to get a bit caught up in movies, particularly emotionally charged ones.

Basically, without giving too much away, the plot revolves around a woman (Angelina Jolie) in Los Angeles at the end of the 1920s whose son goes missing. When the police try to fob her of with a ‘replacement’ son she, understandably, reacts badly to this. The police, embarrassed by her public outbursts, react to this by throwing her into the nearest lunatic asylum.

The way this woman is treated is unbelievably appalling, especially when you know that it is based on a true story.

We found ourselves shouting “You can’t do that,” on a number of occasions. As the story unfolded it was difficult to comprehend how the authorities thought they could possibly get away with some of the things they got up to back in the ‘good old days’.

And then I thought of some news I’d read about Tenerife over the past week. In La Orotava there were accusations of financial indiscretions involving the mayor and a construction company. In Icod de los Vinos an audit showed that nearly 1.5 million euros were unaccounted for with the conclusion that this was as a result of fraud or chaotic mismanagement (this was the same place a policeman was placed in front of the Butterfly Gardens as part of a private political vendetta). In Puerto de la Cruz, following the political shenanigans of the last few weeks, an audit has turned up some more financial irregularities from the last time the ‘new’ mayor Marcos Brito was in charge…the list, sadly, goes on.

The incredible thing is that, like the movie, some of it seems so transparent that you wonder how on earth people can get away with it.

I asked a couple of Canarian friends about this. Both were quite apathetic and more or less said the same thing which amounted to ‘all the politicians are corrupt”. Clearly this isn’t true, but there seems to be a resignation that it is part and parcel of political life here, therefore nothing is done about it when it does happen.

One person said to me about Puerto’s situation “We’ll show the nationalists at the next election. The people will vote them out.”

To which I replied “But you did that at the last election and yet here they are back in power despite not being voted in.”

It is a strange form of democracy practiced here and watching the movie I couldn’t help thinking that some aspects of 21st century Tenerife politics were like 1920s Los Angeles – It is one part of island life that is in dire need of a complete overhaul.

Oh, if my blogs suddenly stop, somebody do me a favour and help bust me out of the local lunatic asylum.

It's hard to beat starting your day with a sight like this.

We were just admiring the magnificent view of Mount Teide from the putting green outside our gate this morning when José and Glenn came wandering past. There followed a short conversation during which each showed due deference to the other’s native tongue.  So Glenn, Jack and I spoke in Spanish and José answered in English.

It made me smile.

The conversation ended with us all  agreeing that we were living “en paraíso”.

And indeed we are.

Bryllupsrejser

- enhver bruds drøm!

I tidernes morgen kaldtes tiden efter selve brylluppet for hvedebrødsdage eller honningmåned. Det betød faktisk, at man i dagene efter brylluppet kun spiste hvedebrød og honning. Dansk hvedebrød var slet ikke hverdagskost i gamle dage, og det blev kun serveret ved festlige lejligheder, såsom runde fødselsdage, bryllup, jul, påske osv.

Det engelske ord honeymoon, blev oversat til honningmåned, og det symboliser noget sødt og dejligt. Begge ordene – hvedebrød og honning betegnes i øvrigt som frugtbarhedssymboler. Ifølge en gammel international og religiøs tradition, skulle hvedebrødsdagene vare en hel måned. De gamle sagn fortæller også at i denne periode skulle de nygifte brudepar ikke have nogen form for selskabelige forpligtelser, dvs. At man gik ikke på besøg til brudeparret uden at være behørligt inviteret.

Nu har traditionen heldigvis ændret sig og i dag er det ikke normalt at fejre hvedebrødsdagene på samme måde. For det meste fejres hvedebrøds-dagene kun en uge eller to, hvor brudeparret enten tager på en dejlig romantisk og ofte eksotisk bryllupsrejse til udlandet. Mange nygifte vælger dog også bare at slappe af i Danmark ovenpå bryllupsfesten.

En bryllupsrejse blev for år tilbage brugt til, at brudeparret kunne lære hinanden bedre at kende. Dette er som hovedregel ikke tilfældet i dag, fordi de fleste nygifte brudepar har kendt hinanden eller / og boet sammen i flere år inden de holder bryllup.

Det at blive gift er noget helt specielt og en uforglemmelig oplevelse for både brud og gom, og mange brudepar føler at en bryllupsrejse for bare de to nyforelskede – er kronen på værket. De får tid til at nyde hinandens selskab og planlægge deres fremtidige liv som mand og kone. Det er sjovt og spændende at planlægge og afholde et  idyllisk drømmebryllup – uanset om det afholdes i et smukt dekoreret selskabslokale i Danmark eller bryllupsfesten afholdes i udlandet på et mere utraditionelt vis, men det er sandelig også hårdt arbejde for begge to. Der er mange ting der skal tages stilling til!

Men hvor skal I så rejse hen på bryllupsrejse, når beslutningen endelig er taget om at rejse på en romantisk bryllupsrejse er truffet?

I det Indiske Ocean imellem Asien og Afrika ligger der også nogle forskellige muligheder for at kombinere sol og palmer med kridhvide sandstrande og uovertruffen krystalklart badevand.

Seychellerne er gentagne gange kåret til et af de smukkeste steder i verden, og dette er ikke uden grund. Seks af øgruppens strande er blandt verdens flotteste. Seychellerne har et meget rigt dyreliv med over tusind forskellige fiske og skaldyrs arter og et væld af eksotiske dyr, såsom kæmpe landskildpadder, kæmpe flagermus, den sorte papegøje og et væld af flotte havfugle.

Afstanden til Seychellerne er overkommelig godt ni timer med fly fra Europa. Tidsforskellen er kun to timer.

Mauritius er en moderne, eksklusiv og trendy trope ø med en smilende multikulturel befolkning. Her her I mulighed for at bo på en eksklusive resort med fokus på høj komfort, kreolsk gastronomi, velvære og forkælelse. Mauritius ligger godt beskyttet af et mægtigt koralrev, som forandrer det mægtige Indiske Ocean til smukke idylliske laguner. Strandene er smukke og rummer det fineste gyldne sand, man kan forestille sig.

Mauritius er et af de få steder i verden, hvor det er muligt at nyde vandsportsaktiviteter, svømning og solbadning hele året rundt.

Maldiverne er et fantastisk hav af grønne atoller, strøet ud i Det Indiske Ocean med meget kærlig hånd. Klimaet er behageligt hele året rundt. Strandene er helt fantastiske, med kridhvidt sand, krystalklart vand og med palmer, der stille bevæger sig i den svage brise. Altså et sandt paradis.

Maldiverne har nogle af verdens bedste og prisbelønnede resorts. I kan tilbringe bryllupsrejsen i en luksusville på pæle i lagunen eller I en bungalow direkte på én af de eventyrlige sandstrande.

Bryllupsrejse til Afrika

Hvis I altid har drømt om at se Afrikas smukke natur, så er det måske nu I skal gøre det.
Bryllupsrejsen er en perfekt mulighed for at leve Afrika drømmen ud i livet.

Tanzania har nogle af Afrikas største attraktioner. Blandt andet finder vi Afrikas højeste bjerg Mount Kilimanjaro, det storslåede Ngorongoro krater og Olduvai slugten. Serengeti sletten, som kan bryste sig af at være den mest kendte nationalpark i Afrika, ligger i det nordlige Tanzania, og herfra starter millioner af dyr hvert år deres vandring nordpå til Kenyas Masai Mara.

Afrikas største vildtreservat Selous ligger i det sydlige Tanzania og er større end Danmark, og eftersom der ikke findes veje i størstedelen af reservatet, består det hovedsageligt af uberørt natur. Safari mulighederne i Tanzania er helt enestående.

Kenya er et af Afrikas allerbedste safarilande og rummer en fantastisk variation i natur og vildtarter og mængderne af dyr er helt overvældende. Samtidig er Kenya velfungerende, hvilket giver omfattende muligheder for at sammensætte varierede safariture.

Tanzania eller Kenya kunne være et utroligt spændende bud på en fantastisk og oplevelsesrig bryllupsrejse.

Sydafrika er en helårsdestination og er lige interessant at besøge hele året rundt.
Sydafrika er et ganske enestående rejseland, som er meget forskelligt fra de andre lande i Afrika, som vi kender. Landet rummer et væld af seværdigheder i et landskab, der strækker sig fra vestkysten ved Atlanterhavet til østkysten ved Det Indiske Ocean – et farvespektrum i kultur, landskab og dyreliv, som kun findes få andre steder i verden. Safarimulighederne er rigtig gode og let tilgængelige fra den Safari Lodge hvor I bor.

Men I behøver jo heller ikke rejse helt til det Indiske Ocean eller Arika for at få en drømmerejse med den man holder af. Vi har selvfølgelig også interessante og eksotiske steder her i Europa – og det til den halve pris!
De Kanariske Øer, er blevet et yndet rejsemål for nygifte brudepar, der ønsker en uforglemmelig bryllupsrejse med egen brudesuite og champagne på køl.

Tenerife

– øen med evig forår har meget at tilbyde, også ud over garanti for sol, sand, vand og sandstrand. Bjerget Teide er Spaniens højeste bjerg med sine 4.342 meter.  Månelandskabet på Teide er et af verdenens mange mirakler og specialiteter, der i sin tid blev brugt til filmatiseringen af abernes planet. Endvidere kan nævnes , at på vejen ned af Teide mod Puerto de la Cruz kører man gennem 4 klimazoner. Tenerife dækker også alle behov for at få nogle fantastisk smukke billeder af det nygifte ægtepar.

Las Americas er med sine tropiske palmer, shops, barer & restauranter, shows og anden form for underholdning og så selvfølgelig alle de andre turist-attraktioner en af de steder som man skal se, når man er på en bryllupsrejse til Tenerife, Spanien.

At first I couldn’t figure it out. My maths might be a tad rusty, but something just didn’t seem to add up.

1: In September, Fernando Cabrera, President of ASHOTEL, warned that British holiday firms might not send their clients to Puerto de la Cruz unless drastic measures were taken to transform the town.

The warning completely ignored the fact that improvements had already taken place and seemed to be likely to cause Puerto more harm than good. It was another political nail in the coffin of Puerto’s mayor and her party.

2: In October a motion of censure was called in Puerto and Lola Padrón was deposed to be replaced by Marcos Brito of the Coalición Canaria party who, despite never having been chosen by the people of Puerto, has managed to be mayor 4 times (one previous time was another motion of censure – seems to be a neat trick of his).

This turn of events, taking into account ASHOTEL’s warning, seemed incredible. Critics of Marcos Brito say that he and his supporters are anti-women and anti-gay and represent a step backwards. They have in the past accused Lola of trying to turn Puerto de la Cruz into Playa de las Américas – so that should give you an idea about their attitude towards tourism.

In essence a party which was clearly trying to move Puerto forward was replaced by a party which locally still subscribes to the sort of politics associated with Franco. Not exactly a progressive development.

To me it made ASHOTEL appear at the very least politically naive. It seemed as though they were putting the boot into Puerto at the worst possible time and, by making a statement which may have helped finish off the party who were trying to drag the town into the 21st century, at complete odds with their assertations that Puerto needed to modernise.

But the light has just been turned on and… drum roll please… here comes the good news.

3: Today, the Tenerife Government announced that 31.5 million euros is going to be invested in a package to improve Puerto de la Cruz over the next few years. The package includes renovation of some hotels.

Money is also going to be invested in Puerto’s neighbouring municipalities of Los Realejos and La Orotova. The President of the Cabildo, Ricardo Melchior (Coalición Canaria party) shared the good news with the three mayors, Isaac Valencia (Coalición Canaria party) of La Orotava, Oswaldo Amaro (Coalición Canaria party) of Los Realejos and dear little Marcos Brito (Coalición Canaria party) of Puerto de la Cruz.

Well, look at that… they’re all from the same political party. That must be nice for them.

And what a fortunate turn of events for Marcos Brito who might just be seen as the man who has rejuvenated Puerto’s fortunes.  If the announcement had been made just over two weeks ago he wouldn’t have been in power and the news may just have saved Lola Padrón and her party.

Wasn’t it serious bad luck for her that all the above events took place in the order they did?

As they say, the first rule of comedy is… timing.

Last week we had a meeting in the south of the island at 10am and not being sure how bad the morning traffic into Santa Cruz would be, we decided to set off by 8am. It’s a journey that would normally take us just over an hour so we were erring on the generous side.
At 7am I leapt out of bed and went into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Through my sleepy haze I could see a dozen or more ants running around the draining board. Raising my eyes I noticed a thin black highway of ants running up and down the wall above the sink and slowly, as I scanned the worktop I saw the thin line running to and from the old plastic container in which we keep peelings and egg shells that are destined for the compost heap.

The night before, I’d taken some eggs out of the fridge to make an omelette and had just slightly knocked one against the other (well you know what they say about making an omelette without breaking eggs). When I looked down, there was a small hole in one but as I couldn’t be absolutely certain that it had only appeared that instant, I didn’t take any chances and put it in with the compost peelings. Clearly, I had inadvertently given the local ant population a midnight feast.

View of Los Cristianos from Montaña Guaza

Immediate action was called for. The ants were ‘tapped’ back up the wall until we could see where they were coming from and then rounded up from all over the worktops and herded back whence they’d come before spraying the wall with ant spray (sorry environment – short on time). We were planning to hike up Montaña Guaza after the meeting and so had to make up sandwiches, pack clothes to change into, hiking shoes and water into the rucksack. Not to mention, have some breakfast.
By 7.30am we were still in our dressing gowns and hadn’t even drunk our coffee.

Half a headless chicken hour later and feeling like we’d already put a full day in, we were driving at a nifty pace up the motorway until we rounded the corner just shy of Santa Úrsula (about 8 km into the journey) and ground to a halt. For the next 45 minutes we watched the clock race and the speedo’ crawl until we finally reached the Tacoronte turn off and took the exit. We crossed the bridge and headed back on the westbound carriageway.
An hour after we’d set off, we were back at the Puerto turn off and heading towards Icod to take the shorter, but considerable slower route over the mountain to the west coast.

It seemed like just about every other vehicle had developed a top speed of 15 kilometres an hour, causing much high blood pressure and an inordinate amount of swearing. Eventually we arrived at the southern end of the motorway and picked up speed, only to grind to a halt once more in the rush hour traffic heading into the south from the west side of the island.

We finally arrived in Los Cristianos at 10.50 am, the perfect time to not find a parking spot. A brisk ten minute walk later, we arrived at our meeting, 3 hours after we’d set off.

Meeting over, we drove out to Montaña Guaza and parked up. A quick change of clothes, a swiftly swallowed butty,

A barren landscape

some slapped on sun cream and off we set. We knew we were in for about a three hour hike so Jack set the pace like a greyhound out of the traps. All was going well until the directions we were following told us to ignore the path straight ahead and detour off into the barren, arid wasteland whose only identifying features were a grid of trails leading in every direction, none of them reflecting the instructions in the book.

After going miles out of our way, we finally tracked back to the path we’d left in the first place but by then the humidity and greyhound pace had sent me into light headed land from which I could not escape. No amount of ‘head between the knees’ would banish my near faint and I had to concede that I wasn’t going any further.

We got back home at around 6.30pm to find several ants on the worktop where they’d presumably spent the day running around, directionless and thwarted at every turn. I knew just how they felt.

Some days the Gods are just not with you.

Una vez más queda patente que Puerto de la Cruz no está aprovechando las oportunidades que se presentan para cambiar y generar una punto de inflexión. Parece ser que ahora sólo el Consorcio lo podrá salvar y en él se han puesto todas las esperanzas. Sin embargo soy de la opinión que los problemas de este destino van más allá de lo que en un principio está pensado que desarrolle el mencionado consorcio, ojalá me equivoque. Lo que cuesta entender es que si tan importante es la situación, por qué no aprovechar los programas que desde Madrid se lanzan para desarrollar las capacidades de los recursos humanos y convertirse en el elemento diferencial. Concretamente el Plan de Formación La Cultura del detalle en el que por el momento Puerto de la Cruz queda fuera, siendo Arona y Yaiza los municipios canarios donde comenzará a desarrollarse. Espero finalmente que esta ciudad pueda participar activamente, como en su momento lo hizo con una versión similar de los años noventa llamada Clave hospitalidad. Recuerdo que en esas sesiones había personal de hoteles, taxistas, comerciantes, etc. Deseo que esta iniciativa como tantas otras relativas a la formación de los recursos humanos no se mal gestione y se dediquen a los recursos humanos que están llamados a poner nuevamente esta ciudad en el punto de mira de la calidad turística y no a los que ya no los mueve ni un terremoto, a los que sólo piensan que cualquier tiempo pasado fue mejor. Busquemos a esos profesionales del futuro, quizás estén detrás de un mostrador sin que sus jefes hagan un esfuerzo por desarrollar sus capacidades y talento o a la sombra de un sindicalista cuyo objetivo no es otro que no se acabe la estirpe. Bueno lo dejo aquí que me estoy sublevando un poco.

Sí, vergüenza ajena fue lo que sentí el otro día al ver por televisión el pleno de la moción de censura a la alcaldesa de Puerto de la Cruz, Lola Padrón. Vergüenza y añoranza.

Me recordó una historia infantil de esas que no olvidas, de esas que nos hizo reír a todos en mi familia. Cuando mi hermano, como poco más de diez años, volvió de pasar el fin de semana en casa de unos amigos. Ellos lo pasaron genial, los padres del anfitrión, no tanto.

Nos contó que se pasaron toda la noche correteando por el enorme chalé, mientras el padre de la criatura corría detrás de ellos en pijama y amenazándoles con una libreta en la mano: ¡Mira que te apunto! Nunca entendimos qué pretendía hacer aquel señor con la lista negra que estaba elaborando, ni nosotros, ni los niños en cuestión, que cuando más corría detrás de ellos, más se reían.

Sí, a veces la autoridad da risa, y a mí me hizo mucha gracia (por no llorar) cuando oí a un concejal, gritar a la Policía que apuntara a todos los que no guardaran las formas. Supongo y espero que el recién nombrado alcalde y otros muchos concejales estarán los primeros de la lista, porque vaya con el show de luz y color que montaron en el salón de plenos.

Lo dicho, de vergüenza.

Where’s the best place to take photographs of Mount Teide at sunset? A friend who lives on La Gomera insists that the best spot for taking photos of Mount Teide isn’t on Tenerife at all, it’s on La Gomera. Even some of that island’s tourist blurb says the same thing. It’s interesting to note how often tourist brochure descriptions on La Gomera talk about the impressive views towards Spain’s highest mountain.

However, the Gomerans have a point. The nights have been beautifully clear of late, but when you live on Tenerife, especially on the north, you’re on the wrong side of the mountain for a spectacular sunset against its mighty slopes.

The Sky is Vivid, but the Mountain Dark

As the dusk sky puts on a light show no amount of lasers could match, Teide becomes mistily dim for us – a silhouette against an electric canvas.
The black peak of the mountain framed against the sky is impressive for sure, but not as much as would be if the sun’s last rays were illuminating it with golden hues.

Pretty, but not Stunning

In theory, the west of Tenerife should have a good view, but the views of the mountain just aren’t nearly as impressive from the south and west of Tenerife and the mighty mount is reduced to just another peak amongst many.

I’ve actually witnessed sunset on Teide from La Gomera and I have to concede that in this case they’re right.

Yup, La Gomera Wins!

The best views of Mount Teide at sunset are to be had from La Gomera – at the bottom of my friend’s garden to be exact.

I’ve decided that I want to become mayor of Puerto de la Cruz. Think it sounds far fetched? Puerto’s had two Irish mayors in the past, so why not a Scot?

I’ve been studying the political process and it seems dead easy. Apparently all I have to do is stand outside the town hall and stamp my feet over and over again whilst screaming à la ‘Violet Elizabeth’ style. “I WANT TO BE MAYOR, I WANT TO BE MAYOR…” and sooner or later they’ll just hand me the post.

It’s a tactic which seems to work well for Marcos Brito who has managed to have been mayor four times without ever once having been democratically chosen by the good people of Puerto de la Cruz according to the Spanish press.

This time he’s managed it through bringing about a motion of censure against Lola Padrón which most portuenses (i.e. those who democratically voted Lola into power in the first place) didn’t want.  Ironically, democratic was a word used by Marcos Brito many times during yesterday’s unfortunate development’s in Puerto’s corridors of power. I’m not sure who he was trying to convince.

I realise I’m naïve in terms of Spanish politics, but I’ve never managed to quite get my head around why there was a need for a motion of censure (apart from Marcos B desperately wanting to be Alcalde again). The best I can make out is some vague accusations about how the town’s money was being misused.

Fair enough, in the last two years I’ve witnessed all sorts of projects taking shape – new cultural and health centres, the sprucing up of the town centre with the facades of historic house being given a makeover, parks which had been allowed to become rundown being renovated etc. It’s been pretty clear where the money has been going.

However, in the four years before that (during Señor Brito’s previous tenure) I can’t remember anything much being done, so have no idea where the money was being spent. But presumably those who voted against Lola yesterday were happy with where the town’s money was ending up then and would like to see it end up there again.

Yesterday, after the decision, one of Brito’s key lackeys threw some light on the Coalición Canaria’s  (weren’t they the ones involved with the Butterfly Gardens fiasco in Icod and the controversy over Playa Las Teresitas in Santa Cruz?) accusations of the serious offences committed by Lola by specifically picking out the Socialist’s backing of the recent Gay Pride Parade, saying it was an insult to the Pope.

That was it? That was the best they could come up with?

Aah, so that’s the sort of serious offences committed by the Socialists. They support gay rights, women’s rights and are committed to equality for all. Now I got it.

It looks like the party’s over for a lot of people in Puerto de la Cruz. Still, if you’re a right wing fascist, let the good times roll.

There’s a joke here which goes along the lines of:

Q: “What’s the time difference between Tenerife and the UK?”

A: “About thirty years.”

Yesterday’s events illustrated why.

At the moment relationships between ourselves and Whiskas are a bit like the relationship between Pakistan and India – fractious to say the least.

As always, Whiskas is the instigator of the deterioration of the fragile peace which exists between us. Not that he would see it this way; we, of course, are the clear guilty party in a series of events which have led to Whiskas muttering away like Mutley in the Wacky Races every time he comes near us.
The root of the problem is the ‘irregular’ feeding patterns of the neighbour’s cats. One of whom has taken to spending most of their time on our terrace hoping to feed on any scraps left by the ‘Great White One’.

Personally I think, not unfairly I feel, that the cat world is Whiskas territory. He should be the one who decides whether another cat can spend time here or not. But no, even in terms of feline matters, Whiskas thinks we should be the ones who should keep his territory cat free.

This situation has been the cause of Whiskas being unsettled for the past couple of weeks, but the situation dive-bombed over the weekend after a couple of unfortunate incidents which were hilariously funny, but which ripped Whiskas’ credibility to shreds.

The cat which has ‘moved in’ sits, strategically, on the part of the wall beside our front gate that Whiskas uses to get in and out of the garden. I have actually built a cat’s entrance on the opposite side of the gate which every other cat in the neighbourhood uses… except Whiskas. So Whiskas usually simply sits and glares at the cat blocking his entrance.
On Saturday he made the mistake of trying to bypass the rogue cat by using a rather complicated method of getting over the gate – climbing up the mesh like a commando.
Whiskas was never very good at this and normally he’d make a run at it, but for some reason (maybe he thought it looked cooler) he simply started to climb.
Unfortunately he’s put on a bit of weight since he last attempted it and his front paws obviously couldn’t support his big belly. He climbed a couple of rungs of the mesh and got stuck, front legs and back legs fully extended, like a prisoner caught in the spotlight trying to escape from a POW camp.

Andy ran out as fast as she could to help him down before a claw was pulled out, but this meant opening the gate inwards with the cat stuck to it. It was a ridiculous sight and we both creased up which didn’t go down well especially as it all took place under the smirking gaze of the feline interloper. Whiskas bitched like hell as Andy lifted him from the wire whilst trying to avoid his lunging jaws. Once again we were to blame for his predicament.

The situation went from bad to worse later in the day when Whiskas tried to sneak into the house whilst we were working. We have a beaded curtain across the front door to keep flies, dragonflies, butterflies and big scary looking wasp things out. Sometimes a couple of the lines of beads become entangled and the route Whiskas chose took him through two beaded strands where this had happened. We heard a commotion at the door and turned to see Whiskas caught in the doorway with a silver glittery necklace restraining him from moving forward. I should have gone to help him right away, but instead we laughed which annoyed the cat. He turned and tried to go back the way he had came, tangling the beads further and creating a straightjacket effect – he was comletely trapped. By the time I reached him he wasn’t a happy bunny. In his head we’d obviously set up an ingenious trap to stop him coming in the house.

I managed to unwrap him with no injury to myself (no mean feat as it was like trying to get a great white shark out of a fishing net) and he ran off into the undergrowth chuntering all the way. I could still hear him long after he’d disappeared from sight.

So that was Whiskas’ disastrous weekend. If he had digits instead of claws I’m sure he would have phoned the Canarian version of the RSPCA by now.

Ich musste heute mal wieder in den Norden der Insel. Zwischen Puerto de La Cruz und Icod de Los vinos waren auf der linken Strassenseite einige Obst und Gemuesestaende. Ich erinnerte mich, dass ich hier schon mehrfach gut und guenstig eikngekauft hatte, also hielt ich an und sah mir die auslagen an! Das Angebot war sehr gross. Ich entschied mich einige frische Feigen, einige frische Kaktusfeigen, Kartoffeln (die richtigen Papas Arrugados), Orangen und 2 Kilo Mandarinen zu kaufen.

Bevor ich weiterfuhr wollte ich mir noch eine Mandarine goennen. Gesagt getan. Ich oeffnete die erste von den Fruechten und was soll ich sagen? Ein Duft umstroemte mich, Es roch nach Mandarine! Die aelteren unter Euch werden sich noch erinnern, als es in Deutschland Mandarinen nur zur Adventszeit gab, so vor ca 40 Jahren! Da rochen die auch in D noch so aehnlich. Aber das hier war Genuss pur! Weihnachten am 2. Oktober! Ich war hin und weg. Weg war auch das erste Kilo der Mandarinen;-) Ich nahm also nochmals 2 weiter Kilo mit und werde die mir heute zu Gemuete fuehren!

Also wer da oben mal vorbeikommt, unbedingt anhalten und Obst und Gemuese kaufen. Achja, billig wars auch noch.

www.teneriffa-firmen.de ist begeistert!

Dette er absolut en af vores hoejdepunkter. vi har haft en saa super dag i denne park. Men vi har ogsaa betalt for det. Det koster 31.25€ at komme ind.
Jeg skal nok kome med en udfoerlig fortaelling men jeg er ved at smelte bort og kan ikke koncentrere mig om at formulere mig.