Leaving Tenerife.
Mt. Teide in the distance.
San Sebastian de La Gomera.
Well only one hop from Tenerife to La Gomera. We had braved the stormy weather flying from Manchester to a sunny Tenerife, slight panic when our bags didn’t appear on the designated carousel (mysteriously sat forlorn on another) and a taxi dash to the ferry. Fred (Olsen) was waiting for us for the hour across the ocean to San Sebastian de la Gomera. The sea was calm and the views clear and with the temperature about 20 a perfect start to a preXmas walking holiday on the volcanic island of La Gomera.
A welcome hot tub on the hotel roof banished the travelling weariness …..
…. and soon we were eating some freshly caught Atlantic fish, don’t ask me its name but it was delicious. Apparently the cuisine on the island is acclaimed.
And I’ve been thrashing around the vicinity of Simpson Ground again with Pete today in bitterly cold gale force winds, fortunately without rain, hail or snow. My Paramo Cascade trousers have come out of winter storage along with my Dachstein mitts.
Your day sounds more character building than ours. Having said that H, who suffers from cold hands, has just lost one Dachstein.
I remember visiting Teide back in 2000. People were commenting on how its surface resembles what we imagine the moon to be like. It was surprisingly cold, windy and ‘un-Tenerife-like’ near the top (at least, to my 15-year old mind!).