With a tear in our eye, we left Playa de las Américas behind us, hit the autopista and headed for the small town of Los Gigantes, situated on the west coast of the island.
Los Gigantes is situated along a stretch of dramatic coastline with towering volcanic cliffs. This picturesque town didn’t stand a chance against the tourists and, naturally, it’s rife with commercialism.
Having said that, the town hasn’t entirely sold its soul. For all of its commercialism, it’s still quite an appealing place and the upper terraces are very dramatically situated, offering unspoilt views of the harbour.
Along the main street, leading down to the harbour, one can sign up with any number of companies to take a boat-trip out along the coast to see dolphins. Sightings 100% guaranteed. Well! We signed up and shipped out in the early afternoon.
As it turned out, the sea was uncharacteristically choppy and the dolphins had thought better of it.
As we made our way along the coast, we were regularly doused with a blast of briny water as the boat bore down onto the roiling waves. We watched and smiled as our fellow passengers were mercilessly drenched, and they grinned back as the same happened to us. It was actually very funny, even if it sounds miserable.
Toward the end of the trip, Sarah hinged herself half over the side of the boat before heaving the contents of her stomach into the water. The previous night, she had also been up, doing the multicoloured yawn after a plate of dodgy meat ravioli at a less than salubrious establishment in Playa de las Américas. It was bad timing for her that the boat-trip was to be the next afternoon, enabling her to score double puke points.
In the end, we saw only one dolphin, swimming by the netted pools of a fish farm. It was just too windy and rough, we were told.
After something approximating lunch at something approximating an Austrian café (the waitress was at least stern and glowered at me), we drove the long and winding road — and I do mean winding — up and then down to Garachico. There were some great panoramic views on the way, as the temperature first plummeted as we gained in altitude and then rose again, as we descended towards the sea.
Poor old Sarah also suffers from car-sickness, so I had to slow to a crawl on the roads to avoid a vomitus hat-trick. This time, she managed to keep the contents of her stomach on the inside, but it was little consolation for how she felt.