more holiday pics

 

We are now into the holiday doldrums; the last couple of days in Tenerife and the weather has turned grey and cloudy. It is still possible to wander around town in a t-shirt but don’t expect many butterflies, birds or dragonflies to pose for photos. So I am relaxing in our apartamento by posting blogs. I say relaxing but the experience of trying to upload photos from one part of the iPad into the blog bit here is an exquisite torture about who has the most patience and who will get smashed on the floor first. I have to do it in small batches of images and they are randomly displayed in any order except the chronologically correct. 

Anyway, fresh beer, best in town. I didn’t drink any of that but I did like the artwork. We have been easily slipping into holiday drinking habits of beer AND wine most evenings. It is going to be hard returning to a land where the sun doesn't shine and the beers are weekends only. 

Our first adventure outwith Cruz was on the Titsa bus up the hill to the edge of the forest. We were following the Rother Walking Guide book and headed up a path that after about 20 mins met a sign saying for safety reasons that route was closed. We went another way but not knowing a particular route or destination, abandoned upward motion for a promise of a beer or coffee on the long walk back into town.

We passed this splendid admiral on the way back down which briefly posed for a photo. I was fairly sure it wasn’t a Canarian one but an old fashioned UK version. Up until then I hadn’t realised vanessa atalanta flew here - just its jazzier cousin vanessa vulcania. There were several butterflies on the long descent back towards the coast including one of the few painted ladies of the trip. (3 in total, 2 very scruffy.)

We descended about 1.5 miles back into town. Well back into La Orotavia, a sort of old town to Puerto de la Cruz. The day was still early and so a rough plan to have lunch there was formed, but we had to get down that 1.5 miles. The bus up the hill had taken numerous switch backs and zig zags to get up the really steep climb but google directed us down through a series of amazingly steep villages the cars of which would have to have really good handbrakes. Imagine the steepest road in Edinburgh and make it slightly steeper and then 2 miles long. Our quads took a bashing. 

Painted lady. Not many about.

As Jim H wittily said of this photo

Ceci n’est pas une pipe

After paying slightly over the odds for drinks and croquettes in a cafe we went to the nuns’ garden. Prices seem higher than last trip here 2 years ago and I can’t help feel places like cafes will feel covid has done them such harm they are justified hiking prices. €17 seems steep for 16 small croquettes that cost €2.50 for a bag of the expensive ones in the supermercado. Although glueing them to the plate with toothpaste so they stay in an arranged presentation was maybe the justification. The Spanish are big fans of the croquette as they are FLAN! (Creme caramel.) We got some supermarket croquettes and tried cooking them in the oven and then shallow frying them rather than deep frying. They were okay but at best taste like half the content is starch glue. I am proud to say we have avoided cafes and restaurants since - not because we felt hideously ripped off; it just seems to be easier and better to buy food and drink in supermarkets and then avoid cafes. I have been making sandwiches for packed lunches and carrying juice in backpack reservoirs. 

One of the holiday highlights was meeting a terrapin in the nuns’ garden!

The nuns’ garden isn’t really a nuns’ garden. The garden was built in the space left when a convent was taken down. And a nice place for a wander. Last trip we met a red admiral and a whole bunch of monarchs. This trip terry the terrapin was climbing out his enclosure and we took his photo. What a fine specimen! Also an insect with a very wasp waist. 

It is much more relaxed than the Victorian garden next door. Neither had toilets and the fountains were on this time in the latter. We didn’t hang about but continued our descent towards P de la Cruz, crossing the Autopista at the flyover near King Kong’s house.

Need to pee?

Roof garden

Next day the weather was supposed to be a bit rainy. We decided to head to the butterfly house, the Mariposario in Icod de los Vinos. Which is a large-ish town with a thirsty sort of name. I noticed the Rother guide had a walk within spitting distance and since it was a modest distance we thought we might combine the 2 activities.

We got off the Titsa bus (excellent service, memorable name) in Garachico. The rain had stopped and it was really pleasant and the small town made a great impression on us both. Lovely buildings and cafe culture made the place seem delightful. We navigated by luck and by our noses leading us past the churches and up the steeply rising hill, always a steeply rising hill, which gave great views of the town.

Avocados in real life, before they go to the shops.

There was the best part of an hour’s climb. The plucky young middle-aged Scottish team started in third place but quickly overhauled the second place woman who was climbing slowly. Although she got in front again as we stopped to remove jumpers in the now blazing heat. Shortly we were back in second and that just left the mixed Spanish or Canadian male pair team. They looked the part but were aware of the Scottish couple whose previous lives as hillrunners gave them the stamina for this long haul up a steep gradient. They could see us reeling them in and eventually crumbled about 3/4s of the way up; pretending to enjoy the views but admitting defeat as they, gasping, let the Scottish hillrunners take the lead. 

Winner winner chicken dinner

What a fantastic start to the day. We were now just several miles from Icod and the butterfly place. After snacks, we started out walking there but the roads were on steep contouring ground and didn’t always have a pavement, making walking a bit hazardous. We waited at the next bus stop where we finished the sandwiches and eventually the bus got us into Icod. From there we had some bad words as we failed to travel half a mile to the Mariposario using Mary’s phone as a guide. Although I take half the blame as I pointed us up a street selling parking spaces for the butterfly place, but was actually in the wrong direction. Blame the heat of the day. 

As stated earlier I prefer animals in the wild, to captive. However the Mariposario was FANTASTIC! Very similar to most butterfly houses it was a large interior space full of tropical plants and exotic butterflies flying all around. They gave an optional chat which covered the basics of the butterfly life cycle and then just let you wander round admiring the amazing butterflies. (Only one rule: no touching!) This has none of the usual frustrations and satisfactions of hunting butterflies, but all of the spectacle of the world’s most glamorous species. It is the shooting fish in a barrel end of the sport. And we LOVED it.

Quick chat from this one. Plus optional shot of an Indian Silk Moth.

Silk moth on Mary’s hand

Glasswing has transparent wings

Emerging morpho

Blue morpho

You weren’t allowed to touch but they frequently landed on you.

Butterflies on the brain.

Downstairs was a dimly lit area where you could sit in the quiet dark space and recover from the giddy excitements of upstairs. There were toilets where you could splash cold water on the back of your neck and best, a large display of every butterfly (and some of the larger moths) you could find on Tenerife. This was something of a Holy Grail as there doesn’t seem to be an adequate website saying what there is, when it flies and where you can find them. This poster doesn’t cover all of that but at least it gives you an idea and a finite list of species. From what Colin said I think Gran Canaria might cover this info better and has a book detailing cross-over species etc. Strange how nobody has done a suitable website for the canaries. If you know otherwise do let me know! 

We spent more than hour there in a frenzy of photo-taking and pointing out miracles as they flew by. Eventually we were exhausted. The sort of visual weariness you get after going round a big art gallery. We knew we had to get out and yet it would be a wrench to leave such fluttering beauties behind. We tore ourselves away and headed back to the bus station to be whisked off to Titsa land and home. Amazing day out!