Post 57 - Lads destroying Tenerife

John: I’ve just spent a week on Tenerife with mi amigo Matt. This is the third November in a row that we’ve been on Tenerife. It’s a bit nicer out there compared with the UK winter. We fly out, rent bikes, cycle up El Teide (the 3700m volcano, paved roads go to about 2400m), swim in the sea, run in the sun, eat heaps of food, sleep, and drink the odd beer. Not quite the stereotypical lads’ holiday, but then I guess we’re not quite the stereotypical Playa de Las Americas resort clientele… This blog is a joint venture, describing the mad and debaucherous antics we got up to, destroying ourselves and destroying Tenerife...

Matt: After a horrifically early start for a Saturday morning John and I were on the plane and on our way to sunny Tenerife. With prior experience of the “rapid transit”, a quick bus journey brought us to the fine establishment that is the pyramid-shaped Las Piramides hotel. Not quite the majesty of Giza, but a sight nonetheless.


John: The alarm went off at 5am on Saturday morning. Yup, horrific. I don’t normally see the light of day until at least 10am on Saturdays. And I was still full of lamb stew and a paving-stone-sized slab of chocolate brownie from the night before. Anyway, we breezed out to Bristol airport in no time, breezed through the airport in no time, and made our own way from Tenerife airport to the hotel in no time, laughing at the “all-inclusive” holidaymakers who would be spending hours and hours on the all-inclusive transfer bus. This bus calls at every damn hotel on the island before it reaches the one you want. 3 euros and 30 minutes of public bus later, we were sitting in the hotel restaurant, eating food.  

Room with a view... 

Matt: With a bit of time to kill before picking up the bikes, we headed to the beach for our first dip in the sea. It was great to be in the water but unfortunately someone had decided to help themselves to my rucksack. Not the best start to our trip! After a combination of phone calls and visits to the police station, I had a bit of paper that with some wishful thinking may get some insurance money… I won’t hold my breath.

 

John: Yes, it was great to BE in the water. But no, it was not great to GET in the water. I hate cold water. I hate live fish even more. I hate dogs when I’m running or cycling. Fish are the ocean’s dogs. So I hated getting in the water. The water wasn’t even cold. Nor were there many fish to be seen. I still hated getting in. Yep, pathetic. I tried my hardest not to look like a total wimp and avoid making a scene, and once I was in, we had a great swim. Matt was out of the water just before me, and as I was finding my land legs again and stumbling up the beach to the shoes and bag we had left, Matt was saying the bag was gone. Crap… His camera, some money, Oakley sunglasses. Gone. Some pr!ck had swiped it. The trainers, socks and flip-flops were untouched. Quickly we realised there was absolutely nothing we could do other than go and report it and hope the insurance would pay out. Not a great start, but at least there weren’t passports and credit cards in the bag.


Matt: Despite the initial setback, the trip to the bike shop was a success, picking up two BMC road bikes. John’s “Teide is easy” didn’t go down too well with the owners, but the offer of smaller rear cogs was refused. We had our first night at the buffet and stuffed our faces with some tasty food – fish, veg, meat, paella, melon! The buffet dining is an experience that cannot be described with words. David Attenborough would delight in describing the feasting habits of the lobster-like guests rolling along to make their epic journey from sun lounger to buffet, via a lift down to avoid the flight of stairs, then gorging themselves on chips and pizza, remembering to avoid any of that “foreign muck”. A dessert is not complete unless you have topped it off with a litre of squirty cream and a bottle of chocolate sauce while abusing the staff for moving your beer. Truly inspirational... 

John: The bike shop (Bike Point Tenerife) is great – good service, good bikes and good prices. Two nice BMC bikes for a week for a total of 170 euros. The “Teide is easy” comment came out wrong and was taken a bit out of context. It’s hardly easy. It’s 50km straight uphill, to almost 8000 feet above sea level. But a compact with a 30 on the rear is a very, very low gear and yes, such a low gear makes Teide a bit easier. For me, spinning up Teide with a compact and a 30 isn’t too tough. But I can make it tough by using higher gears. I just decided to stop digging myself into a hole and slink out of the bike shop, as the old and cynical German bike shop guy laughed at me like I was some sort of alien crackpot. Anyway, the real crackpots on Tenerife are the hotel guests who have six sausages, two beers and five cigarettes for breakfast, then go out to lie in the sun and fry themselves by the pool, come in for an alcoholic lunch and maybe some pizza, traipse to the hotel shop to buy the Sun newspaper, then head back out to burn themselves some more, then inevitably top up their alcohol levels again at dinner. Their days are polished off by some karaoke and more booze in the evenings. “Karaoke” doesn’t really do it justice. “Mindless drunken yelling” would better describe it. I guess everyone on Tenerife lives their own dream.


Matt: Our first day on the bike took us out to Chimiche, despite being an easy day we still pushed on at a decent pace. Totalling about 30-40 miles in the sun it was great to be out on the bikes in warm weather. The road back from San Isidro has some great twists and as the photos from 2013 show, it’s an ideal spot for a bit of posing. Day two saw us attempt a second swim, this time with nothing worth nicking. Just under a mile across the bay in Los Cristianos was followed by a bike trip to Los Galletas and Palm Mar, another 30 miles done. Our evening was spent carb loading, ready for the big day tomorrow. 

At Palm Mar 

John: We planned an easy first day before the “big one”, up Teide. This year we thought instead of going straight up and coming straight down the same road, we’d go up, over the top, around the far side, back down the north descent, and back along the east side of the island. It looked a big loop. But the first day of riding was tougher than we planned. So, the next day, instead of attempting the big one on tired legs, we had a very easy recovery day. We thought that the big one was best tackled with fresh legs. 

The road to Chimiche

  

Matt: Day three was the big one. An early start was followed by as much breakfast as was possible. We were away by 9am and it would have taken some serious timekeeping to have been away any sooner. The initial climb up past La Camella and Arona was warm, John was cycling in bursts while I slogged away but managed to overtake a few others attempting the climb to Teide. As we made our way to the village of Vilaflor at 5000 feet, the views (and how far you have climbed) are inspiring. The climb is relentless and grinding away at 10kmph I arrived into Vilaflor after 2:15, taking a good 15 minutes off my time from last year. A quick refill of the water bottles and we started the second half. Winding our way through the pine forests the temperature begins to drop, but the air is clear and often eerily silent. Some tough parts reach 14% gradient but with enough food, drink and determination, we arrived at the ridge of the crater around the four hour mark. We took a few photos at the sign and had a chocolate orange energy bar as a reward. Back on the bikes and we dropped into the crater. The moonscape that is the Teide National Park is pretty breathtaking and by 5 hours we had arrived at the Base del Teide. Nutrageous bars and more photos followed!

Teide in the distance... Room with a view... 

John: Teide is a great climb. Did I mention it’s not easy?! The first few miles are a bit of a pain in the ass, getting through the resort traffic. Once you get up above the crowds and hit the village of La Camella, you turn left and pass a sign saying “Teide 47km”. You know it’s uphill all the way, and you’re going to be pushing for hours. And today, we weren’t just climbing the 50km and then dropping back down with the help of gravity. We were going around the island and adding another 100km or so after the climb. I’m a bit quicker than Matt, so I was treating the climb like an extended repetition session, blasting up as hard as I could for 5 minutes, then turning and descending back down to Matt, before starting another 5 minute blast. And so we continued to Vilaflor, by which time I was knackered. Matt was looking better than I was at this stage and was clearly a lot fitter than last year. And it’s not as if he was unfit last year! After a short break at Vilaflor, we carried on as before, although with the thinner air and colder temperatures, it was tougher. A guy ahead was also cycling in 5-minute intervals, but slowly and stopping each time. We quickly swept past him, and made it up to the first ridge. A short descent followed, and then we were into the crater and the awesome landscape. Like the moon and Mars combined, had a baby, named it Teide and plonked it on Tenerife. The road is rough and cracked up on Teide, as it often drops below freezing. We battered on and arrived at the base station. From here, we thought it would be a simple flat plateau across to a nice descent, and then a nice flat coastal road back to the hotel. Yes it would be long, but we’d done all the climbing… or so we thought…

Smiles and blue skies at lower altitudes...

 

Grim faces and grey skies a bit higher up...

 

 Awesome up on the plateau

Matt: That was supposed to be the hard work done! Having thought about the timings we decided we’d carry on and attempt the long loop, rather than turning back the way we came. Dropping down, we headed towards the north of the island and the observatory. Our plan to drop down at the observatory was spoiled as although a road down was indicated on the map, it turned out to be a dead end. Turning back or riding the extra miles to the next junction was a 50/50 call for which would get us home before dark, but we decided to crack on. The climb out of the crater was a huge slog in the mist, with the clouds gathering and water in the air it was getting cold. After several false crests we eventually made the top to begin what would be a brutal descent. A very technical descent to Guimar meant an hour tucked in hitting 60-70kph, with frozen hands and frozen shoulders. Some nasty-looking cliff edges offered inspiration to keep it on the tarmac…

 John: Having dropped over the far side of the volcano, the mist started closing in. We were headed for the observatory, and then hopefully a right turn which would drop down to sea level, and then back to the hotel. We hadn’t anticipated another hour or so of climbing up to the observatory, nor had we anticipated that the road down didn’t exist, despite it being marked on the map. It must have been a dirt track or something. So we had to carry on to the next road down, another good few kilometres along the plateau. At this stage I was thinking we were going to be tight for time to get home before dark, but there was nothing else for it but to carry on. A cold descent was interspersed by gaps in the cloud, with views of the coast some 2000m below. Finally we hit Guimar and had a quick break to shake the stiffness out. Those descents are tough. Big concentration is needed to cut through the pain in the hands, fingers, feet, shoulders, arms, back and ass, to make sure you don’t overcook a corner and take a spill.

Freezing and misty at nearly 9000 feet

Don't want to fall off this...

Matt: Thinking we had bested the worst of it we were surprised to find another climb out of Guimar but we persisted knowing we were running out of hours of daylight. After the initial climb, an undulating road kept us working hard, but still we had some left in the tank. The sun was slowly beginning to set and our chances of pushing home to Las Americas were diminishing. With the road conditions and the light deteriorating, despite having some lights, we eventually had to stop in Arico, where a very helpful shopkeeper found us a willing taxi driver to take us the remaining 40km. We had the legs but not the light – another couple of hours and we’d have smashed it. John finished the day clocking up an extra few meters to bring his trip to a round 100 miles while I had managed just over 140km with around 10,000ft of climb. A great day on the bike!
 

John: I expected the road from Guimar to be a flat coastal road back to Las Americas. It was anything but. A big climb out of Guimar took us well above sea level, and the road wound its way over gullies, up and down hills, through little towns and towards Las Americas. We kept going, stopping only to “water the flowers” when needed. We both felt strong, I had good enough legs to kick up the inclines, Matt had good enough legs to hang on. We kept going, and the sun set in front of us at 6:15pm. We had lights on the bike by now. By 6:30pm it was getting really dark. By 6:45pm I was thinking that to carry on would be madness, although it was obvious that we both had more than enough left to continue for another good few hours. We reached the town of Arico, and checked the map under the streetlights. We had maybe 40km left to go. Something like another hour and a half. We passed through Arico, left the streetlights behind, and a few metres along the dark road we decided that enough was enough. It was pitch dark and too dangerous. A sensible call. Now we had the problem of how to get home. I thought it was going to take ages and cost a fortune. I called into a small hardware store and in broken Spanish explained that we needed a taxi to take two boys and two bikes back to Las Americas. Without batting an eyelid, the guy had made a phone call and sorted it. Ten minutes later and after a lot of “muchos gracias”, a big taxi arrived, and we were soon back and looking forward to another monumental dinner. I’d done 100 miles and almost 14000 feet of climbing. Matt had done about 85 miles and over 10000 feet of climbing. It was an impressive performance by Matt, given that he didn’t make it up Teide 2 years ago.

 

 

Climbing out of Guimar

Matt: That night our special four-lettered neighbours moved in to begin their loud TV/fighting/smashing sessions. John somehow managed to sleep through it, but despite reception sending in the heavies to shut them up, the pair continued to be obnoxious and four-lettered. A relaxing next day on the bike saw us head to Costa Del Silencio and back round to the marina to take a few photos. The weather on Teide had begun to close in and rain looked threatening all day. A Guinness at the Chieftain pub capped the night off before returning to listen to the special four-lettered neighbours in the room next door. 

John: The first I knew of our special neighbours was when the phone in the room rang at some unknown time in the middle of the night. It was loud enough to wake me through my earplugs. It was the neighbours “having a laugh”. Later the next day, I caught sight of the guy outside his room. A disgusting, chavvy, scally specimen. An easy day on the bike followed, with an easy run along the coast afterwards. After yet another monumental dinner, we took a wander, ran the gauntlet of touts trying to flog fake tat (40 euros for a Rolex, yeah OK bruvva), weed and other drugs, and finally found a nice pint of Guinness. The scenery is nice. The Guinness wasn't bad. But those touts are damn annoying.

I've obviously been missing something these last 4 years, I thought it was

swimming, cycling and running... Everyone lives their own dreams on Tenerife...

Yessss

 

 

Should really have bought these bad boys... fake Ray-Bans, but who cares?! 

 

Matt: Despite the large swell the next day we managed a morning dip. Battling through some choppy waves we managed just short of a mile across the bay. Despite ingesting an unnecessary amount of sea water it was good fun, but was more than enough for my shoulders following the tough downhills we had done. John took the bike out on his own on what was a very windy Thursday, and battled up past San Isidro. I joined him on a jog round the seafront to Los Cristianos.
 

John: Walking down to the beach for a swim the next morning, it was very windy. The tide was as high as I’ve ever seen it on Tenerife. It made for big swells coming into the bay. There weren’t too many in the water. It was rough to say the least. There were loads of excuses not to get in – too rough, too windy, too sore, too far. But in we jumped and across the bay we went. Tough swimming, but good fun. The peaks and troughs of the swells had about 6-10 feet of height difference, so it was like a roller coaster. Out in the middle of the bay, we took a break from swimming and just enjoyed the ride that nature gave us. We didn’t stop for too long though, as we got cold when we stopped swimming. We got across and back, and on the way back we swam over two scuba divers about 8 feet below. Needless to say, they scared the life out of me, these monsters from the deep, and a bit of a sprint then got me safely ashore. As we were walking back to the hotel, a big storm blew in. It was a cold and windy walk back to the hotel, followed by a very long and hot shower. I clocked some more miles on the bike while Matt took a break. He joined me for an hour of running along the coast and out to the natural peninsula at the far end of Los Cristianos. It was more than the “jog” Matt describes above – during the final few miles we were clocking 7:30/mile into an almost gale-force wind after 5 or 6 miles already in the legs.   

 

Hugely contrasting, highly-charged emotions caused by a visit to Burger King

 

Matt: Our final day, and the last big ride saw John set off early to tackle Teide, with an hour of head start. I followed him up and met him on the way down just as I entered Vilaflor. With the air temperature around zero at the top, John looked frozen, but we headed into the café to decide what to do next. We took the twisting descent to Granadilla, then back to Arona, and we dropped down under the motorway to tackle the second-last hill into Los Cristianos. Despite my best efforts to hang on, John had the legs to get away, though the final shorter flatter hill was more to my liking! We dropped the bikes off, and having clocked up 800km between us, we definitely got value from them!
 

John: I wanted one more blast up Teide, but in one continuous effort rather than in bursts. With a cold forecast for 1000m above sea level, never mind 2200m, I shoved a couple of windbreakers into my saddle bag. I churned up to Vilaflor, so far so good. No stopping in Vilaflor, this was a continuous effort. Above Vilaflor it got cold, and with every turn it got even colder. I passed a couple of bike blingers – guys on really expensive bikes, with really expensive gear, but going really, really slowly. Snow started to appear on the landscape. It was freezing, although with the effort I was still OK. At the first summit before dropping into the crater, I pulled on gloves and the two waterproof tops. Mist was starting to close in. I dropped down into the crater, and at the right hander before passing onto the Teide lunar massif, all of a sudden, the weather really took a turn for the worse. Sleet, rain, high winds, freezing cold. It wasn’t a tough decision to make a U-turn. I passed the bike blingers again and was soon back in Vilaflor where I met Matt. After while scoffing chocolate and pastries in the café, the blingers shivered in, down safely from the cold and wet. No coats, nothing. Their bike must have been worth well over £10,000. But what good are they if you don’t have the legs to pedal, and if you don’t have the clothing to keep you from freezing? We wished them luck and dropped down to warmer elevations. Matt fancied the last two hills. The second-last one is the bigger and longer one. It’s about 1km long, and kicks up to the summit. He’d hung on to my wheel grimly on this climb a couple of days ago, and hung on grimly again, but I dropped him before the top. We cruised down into town, and the final rise loomed into view. I knew he was going to go for it. I was leading into the hill, he was on my wheel. I tried to lift the speed, but zooooooom, he came past like a man possessed, out of the saddle, riding the sh!t out of his bike. Not a sniff of a chance did he give me, I watched him all the way to the top, not a single look back and giving the bike death right to the top. Fair play.

If ever there was a photo to describe four seasons in one day, this is surely it

Better conditions at lower altitude

 

Matt: A great trip… Maybe again next year, but will John be cycling up a volcano in Kona instead? Watch this space!

John: Fingers crossed. Tenerife usually marks the end of the off-season and the start of trying to get fit again. I’ve got a month before Christmas to build up a bit, I’ll do a couple of races over Christmas, and then hopefully hit the new year hard, and that will be it for 7 months until July. Hopefully… I hit the big three-zero the day after we got back. There are two good things about this. One is that I got a bit spoiled by some amazing people, and the second thing is that when I compete in 2015 in the M30-34 age group, I will actually be the right age. This year I was in the M30-34 age group despite only being 29 – Ironman rules dictate that you compete in the age group of the age which you will be at the end of the calendar year. This didn’t really work in my favour this year, and I’ve just checked the M25-29 results for Ironman Wales 2014 – even with my rubbish performance in Wales, if I’d been in the M25-29 age group (I was racing as a 29 year old in Wales), I would have qualified for Kona. That’s the first I knew of that. Another pile of pants.

 

Aforementioned awesome people

Aforementioned awesome people

 

Awesome cake too...