Day 64 January 10th at Granadilla, Tenerife

The management came to Granadilla last some 25 years ago. He did not intend to come here but it was the only place he and the family could find to stay. In those days it was an ethnic flea pit. He had a room over a bar into which four of them crammed. They were only too pleased to find somewhere nicer on the coast.

Since those days much has changed. Small towns like Granadilla have benefited from the wealth generated by tourism. Most have managed to retain a true Spanish feel. Unfortunately the coastal resorts have gone the other way. They are often seedy and and feel a bit like Bush's Florida must be. Best not to go there.

Having been travelling for two days we felt the need to settle in and explore the town. This is the first time we have stayed in a casa rural in a town. It is also the first time we have stayed in a town for more than a couple of days.

Granadilla is on the old main road which runs along the mountain edge parallel to the coast. Our casa is in a small pedestrianised road near to the main road. It is a very convenient and quiet location.

The casa itself has been lovingly restored and then divided into three spacious apartments. Some original features have been kept, ours being a huge outcrop of volcanic rock in the bedroom. The dry stone wall construction is revealed in the living room.

Almost more important in this climate is a private walled garden which both gives shade from the midday sun and retains the warmth when the sun has gone.

Our main purpose in being here is to have a base camp for our attempt at the Pico del Teide. Shopping is interesting. There are still several shops just behind normal front doors. There is not even a medium sized supermarket and to do a shop takes ages visiting several places. Service is of course very leisurely. What's the point of hurrying?

Having got our bearings and our supplies we then needed to pack very carefully for tomorrow. This of course needed to be done before the red wine was opened and dinner underway.

Day 65 January 11th Granadilla to Parador del Teide, Tenerife

Granadilla is situated at about 660 metres in height and our destination is at 2,200 metres. It is by far the biggest climb we have attempted this trip and in fact for several years. On the plus side we are not going with a fully laden tandem and the roads should be well graded.

As we wheeled the tandem out the weather seemed slightly unsettled. We have seldom taken much notice of the weather here. It normally turns out nice again. Often a little cloud can give welcome shade on a long climb.

Many UK cyclists, even regular club riders, have never experienced climbing on a tour. Those who go to training camps often set themselves a challenge and attack a pass. This type of climbing is very different and can be very pleasant. But it does not always work out that way.

We set off up hill out of Granadilla and were immediately into a lowish gear and maintaining a steady pace. For the technically minded, on well graded roads like this one we use between a 35 and 45 inch gear. We know from the map that there will be no downhills until very late in the day and then for only a very short stretch.

Initially we enjoyed the climb as we should. As we wound up the broad hairpins through the pines the sea and coastal plain were spread out below us. The stoker at this stage was even heard to quip about a place call Cruz de Tea. As a person dedicated to the beverage she is justifiably critical of both the quality available here and the very unsatisfactory way it is served.

Everything in the world was fine until we began to climb into the clouds. We were at about 800 metres when the visibility reduced. Even then we thought that the clouds would soon blow through on the strongish wind. Fortunately the road we were on is not the main route to Teide from the resort towns so we had very little traffic to contend with. We did however turn on our lights just in case.

It was lonely in the foggy pine forest and unusually for Tenerife there was little habitation. Eventually the damp in the air began to turn to drizzling showers. The trees here offer no shelter in the rain, just the opposite. They conserve the stuff and drop it beneath them on purpose. It is very unfriendly to passing cyclists.

Just as we were getting downhearted and long after we had put on waterproofs we came into the outskirts of Vilaflor at 1466 metres. We were met with the very unusual site of workers in potato fields in the rain. Even so the sight of other human beings cheered us up. The management was also feeling happier. He was wrong about this in almost every material way as it turned out.

At some stage in these travels he had picked up information about the trade winds. They blow from the north east and the clouds top out at 1400 metres. The wind was certainly from the north east and strongish so he reckoned that we should soon be above the clouds and rain.

Vilaflor is the highest inhabited town in the Canaries and higher than any in Spain. When it is raining it also feels like one of the most miserable. It was not quite lunchtime and we had still only completed about 700 metres of our 1540 metre climb. Not surprisingly the management was not happy to stop for long. 'It was too early, we were not even half way and at any minute we would be above the clouds.' He ignored the fact that we would be unlikely to find any shelter for the rest of the day. Fortunately his brain had not entirely left him and off went the stoker to the local shop to get some chocolate bars.

We now descended into the depths of discomfort and misery. The road of course continued steeply up and every now and again we met ill equipped German walkers coming down. Eventually even the management had to stop. The stoker was desperate for a break. She claimed her legs felt like lead and she could not go any further. Even though we were by now at about 1750 metres there was no sign of the rain letting up or of us emerging above the clouds. Reluctantly, eventually the management stopped under a tree which may have been marginally drier than not being under it.

We ate egg sandwiches and chocolate which cheered us up. The stoker's legs still ached but she is determined and going on was her only option. During the next hour or so the weather began to improve a little. This raised our spirits a little but it began to dawn on us that we were getting very high a long way before we were due to arrive.

We should of course have realised, we had been made aware of it often enough, that the centre of Tenerife is a huge crater. First we had to climb over its edge at 2230 metres before descending into the crater to about 2000 metres and climbing back up 200 metres to the Parador.

We summited exhausted but in the sunshine and enjoyed the gentle descent down to the volcanic floor of the crater. Here euphoria set in and we pedalled along the flattish road on automatic pilot.

Seeing the final climb ahead we stopped for a short rest at a view point. A delightful young Spanish couple came to talk to us. They were full of youthful enthusiasm, like our own kids. They worked in a hotel down in the holiday factory and it was their day off. Could we take a picture of them on the tandem? Had we really cycled all the way up? Would we like a drink? Here's a present of a big bar of chocolate. We ate and drank greedily before the final climb.

Just as we reached our destination at the Parador the management bonked out. It was a good thing we were there as he could not have gone any further. He has seldom been subject to this common cyclists' complaint as in general he is too lazy to push himself hard enough.

Fortunately the bonk is a problem soon cured and a Parador is the ideal place to do it. All it needs is lots of good food and drink. This Parador excelled in that respect and is the first place we have ever come across in Spain with a proper vegetarian menu. The stay here is our Christmas present to each other and no luxury was spared.

We were so pleased to be near to our goal that we stopped to toast the mountain.