A trip to El Teide… but what if it went off?

For most people, a trip to the heighest point in Spain, which conveniently happens to be a feckin’ volcano, is a fantastic experience. But when you are someone who once got his tie stuck in a paper cutting machine and was nearly shredded to death, or who managed to get hospitalised by a Jack Russell called Titch, you do not simply go on these trips without injury.

To top it off, when you are there at night, you know there is definitely a possibility of certain death. So I planned my will, had my last meal and drank a bottle of red wine the night before, to ensure I was prepared for my last trip.

We set off on the afternoon and a Belgian bloke was our tour guide. Without a doubt he had banter and during the trip he told us about the 411 registered volcanos on the island of Tenerife, including 40 within the National Park. So yes now at this point I realised that I didn’t have to worry about one volcano… but 411. Great.

The first part of our journey took us through the National Park, where we stopped at a small cafe to enjoy my favourite, a Barracido. Additionally, I had a lovely cheese and ham sarnie alongside some fresh orange juice. We were told at this point that the National Park is at risk of catching fire due to the dry woodland in the hot weather. Those who smoked, including myself, obviously had to be very careful. If you were to dump a lit or even a fully burned out cigarette bud, you would be heavily fined. Alternatively, if you caused a fire then you would be facing prison. If you ever go to the National Park, make sure to dispose of your cigarette buds appropriately.

The National Park is pretty amazing and I learned some interesting facts about the island. First of all, I have heard people say the water isn’t fresh here. It is actually salt water that is turned into fresh but it contains a lot of minerals and sometimes chlorine. It isn’t dangerous but it just tastes like shit so you are better off getting bottled water as it tastes better. You are able to wash fruit, salads and even shower in it too. Disclaimer: I will not be liable for any deformity to your genitals. Wash them at your own risk. I also learned that the pine trees within have adapted to the land and although there is a risk, due to the violent volcanic environment they live in, the trees have somewhat adapted to fight against any fire or lava.

What really captured me the most is that the National Park is cherished here and you are not even allowed to remove a tiny pebble. Everything within the park must be maintained and kept in the park. In Tenerife itself, it is forbidden to mine, cut trees or do anything else to the natural resources of the land. Everything is imported from the mainland Spain. However, Tenerife does make use of things like the dead pines, which they use as hay as they do not grow any there. They have even used some of the lava rocks to help build and maintain road works.

I mean all the above seems expensive and probably does cost quite a bit. Nevertheless, you have to admire the Spanish for respecting the island and maintaining it in glory. Were as we Brits are still chucking empty McDonald bags out of the car window.

We eventually came into what I would call the Canary Canyon. Why? It is pretty much like the Grand Canyon. Desert, rocks, view points and all that jazz. It becomes a bit more breezy but still just as hot. There is also an opportunity to see the native bees, which are black with white stripes! The bees welcomed me and seemed alright.

Wasn’t too long until a wasp attacked me in a picture taking moment. At this second I feared for my life and did what felt natural.. run around like a pussy screaming.

As we continued our journey, we passed a group of guys driving a giant robot into a van. Apparently, this was a prototype robot being tested in preparation to go to Mars. Due to the harsh, desert like terrain it is suitable to test them apparently. Eventually, we reached a point just beneath the observatory. Inside of the observatory, I heard there is a lot of interesting space-related investigations going down. It was also protected by the military and if you drove past a certain point, you would be shot at. Yep. I had discovered Area 52.

At this point, we had Carva poured into a champagne glass. I noticed couples coming together to huddle under a blanket. As a single guy, I huddled under my own blanket and latched on to a lovely couple to take refuge. Whilst no thought of a threesome crossed my mind, I looked down to my right and saw a blanket of clouds just like you would see outside of a plane. Just to be clear, we weren’t sat on top of El Teide but a view point to witness the sun slowly creep down. If you want to be on top of El Teide then you need a government permit.

Watching the sun go down below El Teide is truly a wonderful thing. You cannot help but take a breath of fresh air for a moment and sit back and think, the world is so much bigger than we know. I stopped taking photographs because I knew I had to embrace the moment.

At the end of the event, it became pitch black and the stars appeared, clear as day. We witnessed shooting stars and we also saw the consulations as well as planets like Jupiter. The tour guide described this moment as something special. In fact he went on to say that the greatest gift you can give to your child is to tell them about the consulations. Sadly, if I ever have a child, I won’t have this pleasure as I was too busy looking out for the little green men.

During this trip, we were told if El Teide were to erupt – it would be like a 90 year old man on viagra. Uncontrollably, it would go everywhere and it would send the island below sea water and a tsunami would be caused, devouring the East Coast of the United States of America.

Luckily, there is nothing to suggest it will go off any time soon and if it did, I assuming we would be sent into the dark ages. Nevertheless, until it does, this is not an experience to be missed.


Middlesbrough and everyone else, I have a lesson for you to learn. An amazing one at that.

It is the little things you realise you appreciate when you are living away.

Credits to the Telegraph (don’t sue me)

For the first time ever since I arrived, I am experiencing a tad touch of home sick. Oh don’t get me wrong, I love Tenerife and the people here are great. I am in no rush to get back to Britain, or Middlesbrough. I will pick crystal blue waters over Costa Del Redcar at this time.

Today I spent time with my cousin and his girlfriend, who are here on holiday. Last night we got drunk, raided a takeaway and I ate a plant on stand in the hallway of their hotel. In true British style, I got smashed and cured my incurable (apparently) hangover with a trip to Siam Park, the best water park around. So now I am on a come down, my shoulders are more red than the General Election results and I am dying (I think). So now I have a hint of sadness and appreciation for the little things. Is this inspiration or the hangover still hanging on?

As you can imagine in Tenerife, it is quite hot and my pits are more sweaty during the day than Theresa May waiting on a telephone call from the DUP. I would usually hate rain but I would dance in it if it was pouring down right now.

Credits to Josephine Fowler (whoever you are)

You see this picture above? Its quite familiar and its something you often see in Middlesbrough and other places in Britain. You hate it because its so “grim” and “grey”. “Its too wet” (didn’t realise you could get dry rain?). Yes, we moan about this all the time. However, when you are living in a hot country, this view is something you miss now and then.

A cold wet night with a good down pour as you’re walking down Waterloo Road, looking like a drowned rat, holding two carrier bags when the sudden thought of fish and chips or a parmo strike your mind. Come on, is it just me who loves those moments?

You see these are the things we don’t think about or embrace. We spend more time examining the cons of what we see or have than the pros, so at some point later on we suddenly realise how those miserable grim and grey nights in Middlesbrough, or anywhere else, were an excuse to get cosy on the couch with a bag of chips, marinated in salt and vinegar then toppled with scraps, to watch Eastenders or even an episode of Corrie.

We never think about the fortune we all share to be able to order a parmo to our home or make a trip to our favourite place for one. Whether you like plain, hotshot, pork or chicken. For the non-Teessiders, a parmo is a Teesside only speciality that is basically a heart attack on a plate but also a lovely way to die. Anyway, back on subject – we order, we eat, we regret, we plan a diet, then we fart and sleep. We don’t think about how this plate of cholesterol chaos is only made in our lovely little area and that you are not likely to find it anywhere else in the world.

Think about that for a second. Think about me munching on squid. Do you understand my point?

In Teesside, people moan a lot about the local area. In fact everyone pretty much moans about their town, city, estate, street or whatever else is in their sight. In Middlesbrough we moan about the town centre and the strange exotic smells we occasionally come across or intoxicated idiots on street corners at 9.00am. What we don’t talk about is how easily accessible the town centre is or how small it is so we know where everything is. We don’t talk about the view of the fountains or the bottle of notes in Centre Square.

We moan about some of the council estates and how terribly neglected they are, or the occasional chav we will come across being an idiot. But we don’t talk about the unity of the people and how everyone knows each other and is practically one big family. We don’t talk about the passion and beauty of that community spirit.

We moan about Boro Taxis, Blueline and the other firms with their non-conversational taxi drivers, waiting times or occasional uselessness of identifying a door number. But we never highlight how easy it is to order, how cheap the rates are or how drivers don’t expect mandatory tips.

Finally, we moan about the grim boring views of the industrial area, the smog lifting into the clouds and the big grey blocks in the horizon. What we don’t talk about is the legacy of that industrial area and the spectacular picture of it in the evening when we drive into our town.

These are all things that I miss. That and my mum, family, friends and Flares. I never appreciated my home enough, until I was no longer there. And even if you are pro-Boro, you probably still moan about the things listed above. Wherever you live, you will moan about.

Vice versa, I will miss the above view and many more when I finally return home. What did I learn? To embrace, love and appreciate this experience and these moments whilst I have them, as well as be grateful for the things I do have at home. I hope this post has taught you a very important lesson. Moan all you want but home is where the heart is. Home is beautiful no matter what it may appear to look like.

I feel happy again now after expressing this. I hope it brought a smile. Have a parmo on me. See you in winter!