After breakfast we headed out of the hotel and began our three hour walk around the sea front from Las Americas to Costa Adeje, (which is the next resort along the coast) and back.

While we were taking in the scenery and views, it quickly became apparent that this part of Tenerife’s coastline is made up of a lot of little bays rather than one or two long sandy beaches. The sand here is black gritty sand, rather than soft golden sand which you’d find in parts of Gran Canaria. I guess the huge sand dunes in the south of the island play a substantial part in the quantity of soft sand in that area of the island.  The other thing of note was the  bay without a beach that had a very steep bank up to the sea front path and was covered in giant pebbles.

In one of the bays we saw a surf school in full operation. There were trainees on the beach learning how to get up onto the board, paddle, steer all interspersed with the instructor making them squat and rise on the board. I guess they were trying to simulate the conditions in the water as closely as possible. Looking at the ages of the students and the quantity of them, I figured it was some kind of school trip.

Turning to Liz and Char I asked, “If you were offered surfing or Tring Museum for your school trip which would you opt for?” Without missing a beat they both said “Surfing!”. 
I guess Tring museum has been burned into their brains as a dull place by the frequency of school trips they endured over the years.

We arrived back at the hotel in time for pre-lunch drinks (a double Cappuccino and a lager for Char, and a Pepsi Max for Liz) and a welcome sit-down. While the ladies were enjoying a few rays by the pool bar I snuck inside and booked them both a 20 minute massage. The Spa manager found me a slot for 2pm which fitted into our plans wonderfully.

The grey cloud that had engulfed this end of the island overnight had begun to lift while we were out on our walk. By 12:45pm the sun finally broke through and after la leisurely lunch the temperature had begun to climb.  We sat by the pool bar catching a few rays and chatting until it was time for the ladies to have their massage. All too soon it was time to go and collect them and find out if they’d enjoyed it, which they had. 

After one more drink to keep us hydrated in the afternoon sun, we ambled around to the rear of the hotel where there was a crazy golf course. We can see the course from our room balcony, beyond the rear of the hotel. 

The hole that caused us maximum pain was Mount Teide. (See below.). Looks easy, right? Nope. The rails at the front helped to guide the ball. The ones at the rear did not. (Sigh)

Liz and Char both played some daemon shots, each peppering their score cards with ones and twos on the 18 holes. Thankfully my steady eye and average per hole of 3 meant I won by a slim margin – but a win is a win.

As soon as they discovered I’d won, they lost no time in declaring that the winner buys ice cream for the whole party. Lucky me! That was entirely due to the fact that it was pretty warm by now, and there was a fantastic ice cream parlour just around the corner.

Back at the hotel Char ordered a double Cappuccino and a lager from her personal barman and Liz had a Pepsi Max, followed by a lager chaser. Your scribe had a fruit punch topped off with a shot of banana liqueur. They read and I typed today’s blog post. The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly as the sun gave way to the breeze, which had crept in earlier in the day and was now gaining strength. 

Last night’s evening meal had set a high bar. We all liked something and agreed between mouthfuls of our choice of tasty morsels, that it was a beautiful spread. Unfortunately, those compliments must have swelled the Head Chef’s ego and he thought he was invincible.

Not at all, where tonight’s selection is concerned. Too many squid dishes, and a few other weird dishes. My reaction filled me with dread. If I was struggling, how would the ladies cope? Fortunately, they scraped together a few things and we looked ahead to the dessert items. That strategy overlooked the notion that the chef wasn’t done yet, and had one more curved ball in his arsenal. The delicate and juicy looking lemon tart had one teeny, tiny thing wrong with it. No lemon. Sigh. I mean, is it too much to ask for the lemon tart to taste of lemons?

After we’d eaten, we embarked on another walk to help our food go down. Due to the lovely day, the resort seemed way busier than yesterday evening. There was definitely more buzz and vibe. Hopefully, this photo goes a little way to help convey that.

Goodnight.