Tenerife. Chapter 2. We circulate locally.

God that last blog was boring. I know I'm sorry. If we were real men we would probably have got out in the hills on the very first day - but this being abroad thing - it's a lot. Nobody speaks the right language. Everything is complicated. We didn't know how the buses worked or where to get them or how much they cost or where to go to or what it would be like. It seemed fair to go and have a run around Puerto de la Cruz and kind of get our bearings.

Since Peter had realised how far South we were going he had begun to obsess about butterflies again. What he might see. I tried to stem the flow early. I didn't want Tenerife to be just a list of the butterflies we didn't see. Couldn't it be its own thing? 

With a vague plan to do a run out to a ruin at the other side of town we set off into the morning sunlight.

Are the pigeons copying the stones or are the stones copying the pigeons. Or are they just drawn to each other?

Maybe 2/3rds of the way through town we were stopped by this beauty - a Red Admiral native to Tenerife I think. Peter has the detail. Vanessa Hotpants or something.

Xmas was ever-present but hard to take seriously. Jesus wasn't born in a warm country, after all, he was born in a cold country with Pine trees and sledges and Santa, wasn't he? Or why this?

Peter had always been a bit rude about the Monarch Butterflies but was willing to settle when it came to it. They were generous about sitting still for a photo and were dressed up to the 9s.

The local speckled woods, however, were as skittish as they are in this country, and just as up for a fight. Damn that blade of grass. As I was taking this photo, a fellow who looked like the psychopath in the original "Vanishings" film sidled up to us and asked in a Scandinavian accent what we were photographing. He said he was a biologist himself and from Sweden. Happily he didn't bury either of us underground.

When are the Koi not coy? When they're hungry! And at other times. Boom!

Charles, Camilla and Diana.

There were populous nativity scenes all over town.

Peter forgot himself and had a morning beer.

Yo Speckly!!!

Where are they?

Beautiful Bamboos

excessive

More monarch.

But the wise old owl says "tomorrow you will have to figure out how to get out of town!"

Tenerife Holiday. Chapter 1. Week in Hell.

I knew when I booked the flights that there'd be an argument about how early we got to the airport, but the information said be there 2 hours beforehand. In the past I would have added in some extra time for our bus to break down and for Peter to have a seizure, but these days I'm incredibly laid-back and I worked out from Google travel the absolute latest we could leave the house and still get there. Peter goes for diving out the door at the last moment but I like a bit of time so my alarm was set for way early - 4.30am. Unfortunately I woke up at 2am and stayed awake - so it was going to be a long day.

Everything worked. All our buses worked. Our tickets worked. Security was only 5 minutes. Peter grumbled as we had too much time to kick about in the pointless half-way world between security and the plane. Our flight was on time. We were off. About 4 and a half hours later we stepped off the plane into the heat.

Getting out of the airport took more time and effort than it should have. For a while we were being herded about pointlessly as a few planes seemed to have landed all at the same time and there were huge queues for passport control. It was hot and the security staff were asking for families with children to come to the front and a Canadian that had a voice that wasn't new to complaining growled on about how it was stoopid and pointless. It was tempting to get in a fight with him, just to release some tension.
Then there was a long wait in the heat for our airport transfer bus to arrive. We were getting surrounded by complaining old ladies and Peter was getting antsy. But then we got on the bus and our driver Angel put on a Jet2 welcome recording. There was a bit of preamble and then the voice said "but let's get to the important part...your week in hell". We looked at each other and burst out laughing. "That's very honest of them." After some reflection I think it was "how we can help".

We had a long bus drive up to the North but it was captivating seeing desert, palm trees, cacti, funny houses, spanish signs - as we got further North things got greener. We arrived at our hotel and went out for a walk in the warm evening. There was a huge swell coming into the harbour and areas of walk-way were cordoned off for safety. We wondered if there had been some especially large storm, but over the next few days we realised there are always large waves rolling into the harbour.

-------------------------OMG, I have work tomorrow and I am sitting in my running gear from hours ago, so I'm going to go. Meet me back here for Chapter 2. "There are butterflies!".

The Lammermuirs with the Fast Boys and the Sunday Seal of Disapproval

So on Saturday we'd made this plan where me and Graeme Dunbar and Nick and Peter were all going to go for a run in the Lammermuirs. In which universe did this make sense? Not in this one. Not for small me. Also we were going to set off very early.

The weather forecast was good though.

So early on Saturday morning it was time to get up. The sun got up somewhat later. Happily Graeme had slept in so we were a little en retard. It gave me a chance to take care of some household chores.

We stopped en route at the Lanterne Rouge which recently won a much deserved award as Best Bike Cafe. I voted for it. Because refills of coffee. We all had 2 cups of coffee and I certainly felt more braced for the adventure to come.

It was icy cold and we were in shadow to start with. The boys were all very considerate but there was no-one who would naturally be jogging along at my pace. I tried to send them off ahead, but then they waited for me. Oh my giddy-god. At 11 miles or so I set them off up to Lammerlaw giving me a 1 mile head-start for the last few miles home and that's when I took 90% of my photos because I wouldn't be holding anyone up.

It was a beautiful day. Here are all my photos unfiltered with a lovely Bjork track called Vokuro on top of them. The music is very solemn but actually the atmosphere was more comedy than lament because coffee. I would do this differently next time but time is racing on so here is the imperfect product.

Today (Sunday) was another beautiful day. I got more sleep and was more well rested so more chipper and less frightened. We were planning to go to Gullane for a lope around. Nick said give him a shout too so we did. He'd been up until late and was a little subdued. His phone battery gave out and Peter's camera started to act up too. We were all tired and so it was quite a business-like canter round the usual circuit.

Coming back along the beach I reminded Peter that he had claimed there was a dead seal on the beach last week. I hadn't seen it and didn't really believe him. It was at the end of our 11 mile run and it was nearly dark. There was no sign of it today. I pretended to think the seal was a figment of his imagination and asked him if it had spoken to him.
He immediately shifted into character and it said in a slow, rather sardonic English accent. "Hello Mr Buchanan. I have some criticisms to make of you if you don't mind."
"What were they?" I inquired.
"You should have stuck in at school, you could have made something of yourself." it began.
"Instead you have let everyone down."
"And you've let yourself down."

Aaaah.