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Canary Islands
like a long-lost cousin. Perhaps it was the way he spoke
Spanish. It was closer to the way I learned it in Miami, than
the traditional, lisping Castilian of Madrid. Before arriving
at Anaga, we made a stop at the port city of Santa Cruz
to stretch our legs and for a little more Cuban history, as
this was the hometown of José Martí‘s mother. While the
landscape was considerably lusher, it was nothing compared
to what I witnessed at the entrance of the
Anaga Mountains.
As we entered the protected area, I had trouble catching my
breath — and I hadn’t even started to walk yet. Narrow roads
branching off to tiny hamlets, deep and steep ravines covered
in thick forest, some of which is ancient laurisilva, which is
millions of years old. When we reached this secluded starting
point of our circular path into the Enchanted Forest, my heart
rate was already elevated. It was both thrilling and humbling
to be enveloped in ferns that were taller than me, but the true
magic happened when a sea of clouds rolled in and it felt like
I was flying.
We continued toward Mirador Cabezo del Tejo, for a view of
the coast, Taganana, and the beaches of Anaga. In a quiet
moment of reflection, I noticed my guide staring at my
expression.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“My thighs hurt,” I said smiling.
“Well, you can’t tell your grandmother that,” he said, laughing.
Mari de Armas is a travel writer specializing in luxury cruising. She is
a regular contributor to the official blog of Regent Seven Seas Cruises,
Luxury Goes Exploring. Read more of her posts at RSSCBlog.com.
On the two-hour drive, my guide shared a wealth of
information about Tenerife’s history and landscape. I learned
that poor economic conditions in the 19th century caused
large numbers of Canarians to leave the islands. Many
emigrated to Louisiana and Texas in the US, as well as the
Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and, in my
great-grandfather’s case, Cuba. When I explained that I was
of Canarian descent and that I was going on this hike because
my grandmother recommended it, he laughed.
“Your grandmother did this hike?” he asked incredulously.
“Then, she really is una isleña.”
We spoke of my grandmother’s athleticism and adventurous
spirit as if he knew her. He felt so familiar and familial,