I spent the weekend, deleting photos, saving photos and generally tidying up my laptop. In the process, I came across some old photos taken on a visit to Puerto de la Cruz. I have no idea when this was; perhaps it was one visit or maybe two. The sky is overcast so probably during the winter months; it also looks as if it is coming in dark so we probably stayed overnight, which we have done on occasions. I thought I would use the unexpected find to add these images to a blog but rather than speculate what we did and when we did it, my comments are based on the sort of thing OH and I do when visiting somewhere – an excuse to practise a bit of descriptive writing!
Puerto de la Cruz isn’t exactly bustling with activity on our visit. Not particularly unusual during the autumn months except for weekends. Different story during the summer when the town is flooded with tourist all day long and there are people everywhere packed like sardines in the narrow streets of the old town. However, like the majority of people we encounter, whilst we may not yet have one foot in the grave, the sedate pace of life at this time of year suits us.
Just a short walk and we are in San Telmo surrounded by a labyrinth of souvenir shops. Buckets and spades, lilos and local handicrafts tumble together and spill onto the walkways outside the stores to attract the passer-by. The shopkeepers open handed welcome and cries of ‘hola’ reverberate down the cobbled lanes but there are few takers; most seem intent on saving their money for the numerous cafes and bars that line every street and plaza.
We wander to the waterfront where the pathway is lined with trees and has no traffic. This part of the promenade is laced with cake and ice cream shops. We walk, then rest at a restaurant that has spread its tables and chairs onto the pathway where we sip our coffee, nibble our cake and enjoy the fresh sea air.
Before continuing our walk, we are entertained by the street performers with their puppet shows and magic tricks. A group of chattering holidaymakers get side tracked by a musician with his accordion playing 1960 songs and two of them do an impromptu dance giving their age away, and some street artists try to entice tourists to sit for a caricature drawing.
The afternoon draws on, it is starting to get dark and we watch the sun as it sets slowly, colouring the sky pink then dark red and finally disappears leaving just a gentle glow over the horizon . Feeling weary but happy, we know it is time to make our way home.