Tenerife — the most cycling-friendly of all the Canary Islands. And that is no coincidence. Perfect temperatures while winter has Europe in its grip, countless climbs, the possibility of staying at over 2,000 metres above sea level, a hugely varied climate and endless opportunities for creating routes. On top of that, it is the largest island in the archipelago, so even if you spend the whole winter here, getting bored is rather difficult. You can also easily take a ferry to neighbouring La Gomera, or even make your way to Gran Canaria or Fuerteventura.
We spent three months in Tenerife, and it became obvious almost immediately that this would not be our last winter escape of this kind. You can train here, explore here, or slowly die on the climbs. Whatever floats your boat. Personally, I enjoy all of the above, so in this article I’ll take you on a journey through the corners of Tenerife in search of fascinating cycling routes and its most photogenic places. From the majestic Teide volcano to hidden beaches and charming little villages. Perhaps you’ll also discover why Tenerife has become a Mecca for cyclists looking for challenges on tarmac and adventures through wild terrain, as well as photographers hoping to capture this extraordinary slice of, well… paradise. Ride on!
And as I was writing “Ride On”, I started wondering whether people in the Canaries even know what an indoor trainer or Zwift is. Frankly, I rather doubt it. Winter temperatures hover around 25°C, while summer, apart from occasional heatwaves, tends to stay around 30°C as well. They have no idea what they’re missing. Yeah. Right.
- How to get to Tenerife?
- Where to stay in Tenerife?
- What is the weather like in Tenerife?
- What should you wear for cycling in Tenerife?
- Where to ride in Tenerife?
- Planning cycling routes in Tenerife
- What to eat and drink in Tenerife?
- same time, next year
How to get to Tenerife?
Generally speaking, I recommend flying. Of course, you could drive there, or even turn the whole thing into a cycling expedition, but travelling by air is by far the most economical option.
Luckily, you can still find tickets for very reasonable prices, and low-cost airlines fly from the larger Polish cities. A lot also depends on whether you are planning to bring your own bike or rent one on the island. If you are travelling without a bike, you can look at connecting flights via Berlin, Frankfurt or London. With a bike, however, those same connections are considerably less attractive. Especially when you may have to collect your luggage and check it in again.
I believe that even if you are going for just two weeks and plan to spend around ten days riding, bringing your own bike is worth it. Mainly because sports luggage is not particularly expensive and is often even cheaper than standard checked baggage. Transporting a bike costs around PLN 200 each way. Technically, you can pack the bike in a cardboard box, but I strongly recommend buying or renting a dedicated bike travel bag. You’ll thank me the first time you need to move all that gear more than 100 metres without an airport trolley. Roughly around that distance, dragging or pushing a cardboard box along a pavement tends to wear straight through the bottom. A friend told me. Obviously.
I fly with an Evoc bike bag. It has wheels, so even when packed to the absolute limit, you can drag it for two kilometres. Don’t ask how I know. I’m trying to forget. One important thing: not every bus line will allow you on board with oversized luggage. End of digression.
Back to the point: sports luggage, meaning your bike, usually comes with a 30–32 kg allowance, which means you can stuff the bag with all sorts of cycling gear: clothes, helmet, shoes, a pump, and whatever else you need. If there is still some room left, throw in a few everyday things. Or a kilogram of potatoes. More on that later. If you would rather rent a bike, I recommend contacting the team at Bike Experience Tenerife. Message me beforehand on Instagram @adam_jedrysik and I’ll introduce you and tell you who to speak to when you get there.
Where to stay in Tenerife?
There are hotels, Airbnbs bursting at the seams, hostels, free campsites, caves and various semi-legal ways of sleeping in the wild. Personally, I like having an evening shower and a kitchen, so Airbnb works best for me. Especially for stays of two or three months. When it comes to choosing a base, you could write an entire essay and still end up with the answer: it depends on what you want. We chose the south of the island because statistically it is warmer and sunnier there during winter than in the north. You can see it in the vegetation, or rather in how much less greenery there is in the south. That difference in climate is one of Tenerife’s most fascinating features. When you leave the Masca Valley heading north, there is a place where the road turns roughly 90 degrees and you can genuinely feel the climate change. Suddenly, instead of riding over dry, hot asphalt, you find yourself surrounded by greenery on a road damp with moisture. A little extra caution in the corners is recommended.
Anyway, this was supposed to be about location. If you want to stay in the south, then… it depends what you like.
Initially we were supposed to live in El Medano, but due to some minor complications involving a accommodation agent, reality did not exactly match what had been promised. In the end, it probably worked out for the best. El Medano has its own atmosphere, but after three or four days there, we realised it did not quite click with us the way we had expected. Maybe we had imagined something different after visiting surf towns in Portugal or Fuerteventura. There is also the head-ripping wind, but that is precisely why you go to El Medano for kiteboarding and windsurfing, not necessarily for badminton lessons.
Eventually, we landed in Costa del Silencio, and for our needs it was absolutely spot on. A gated complex with two swimming pools, considerably less wind, as the name obliges, no aircraft flying directly overhead, unlike in El Medano where they pass low and the island sees more than a hundred departures per day, far more walking options towards neighbouring towns, local shops and supermarkets that reduce daily living costs, and more options for leaving town towards nearby cycling routes. Sounds good? It does feel slightly more retirement-oriented, but nearby Las Galletas actually seemed more lively in the evenings than the supposedly energetic surf town of El Medano. And if that is not your thing, you can always end up right in Tenerife’s tourism epicentre: the three-town combo of Los Cristianos, Playa de Las Americas and Costa Adeje. Not my vibe. Not ours. From above at sunset it looks fantastic, but in my opinion that is also the best way to experience this part of the island: from a distance. Hotels, stalls, “my friend” vendors, Louises Vuittons and towels being sold on every corner. That said, if you enjoy the classic tourist-and-hotel atmosphere, this is unquestionably the best part of the island for you. Puerto de Santiago and Los Gigantes seemed similarly touristy, although smaller. We only passed through twice, so I cannot claim to be completely objective.
The advantages: close to the Giants, plenty of good climbing options towards Tamaimo and Guia de Isora, and easy access to Masca.
The disadvantages: a little farther from the excellent TF-28 route and, in my opinion, slightly fewer possibilities for what I call “weather management”.
There is also Palm Mar. An enclave of apartment buildings slightly removed from everything. I rode through it a few times, but cannot really say much about what daily life there is like. Of course, so far I have only mentioned places by the ocean. If you do not need to live by the water, you can also look at La Camella, Valle de San Lorenzo, local Buzanada, San Isidro near El Medano, or towns located higher up, although the weather there can be a little less predictable. Last but not least, atmospheric but small Los Abrigos could also be an interesting option. It lies close to Golf del Sur, which you can reach via an excellent promenade running along the ocean cliffs.
If gravel or MTB is part of the plan, it is quite a good base for exploring the terrain around the airport, all the way towards El Medano and further east. Beyond Golf del Sur, in the direction of Montana Amarilla, there is also a sizeable expanse of off-road volcanic gravel terrain.
What is the weather like in Tenerife?
Let me quickly explain what mean by the “weather management” mentioned earlier. When leaving Costa del Silencio, my routine looked roughly like this. First, I checked the weather at 1,400 metres, meaning Vilaflor, to see whether climbing that high made sense. Then I looked towards the slopes of Teide and checked where the clouds were sitting that day. And then I simply rode wherever the clouds were not. Left towards the three main tourist towns, or right towards Granadilla de Abona. That is basically the entire complicated logistical system. It is worth remembering that clouds can already appear at around 600 metres above sea level while, at exactly the same time, the coastline is baking in full sunshine. In short: walk out of the house and ride where there are no clouds. Weather forecasts? Treat them as a reference. If they say it is going to rain, perhaps it will. Perhaps it will not. The same logic applies when the forecast says there will be no rain. Visually, though, you can assess the situation almost instantly and react quickly when things begin to change. And those changes are rarely completely unexpected. Mañana applies to the weather too. During our entire three-month stay, rain caught me once, and that was entirely my own fault. I pushed a climb beyond Vilaflor towards around 1,800 metres despite the fact that by 1,400 metres it was already painfully obvious that rain was coming. I got lightly soaked while descending towards 600 metres. Ten minutes later I was dry again, and the road showed absolutely no sign that rain had ever happened.
What should you wear for cycling in Tenerife?
This will not be a long section, although again, it depends on what you are planning to do. I am not particularly fond of torturing myself in low temperatures. I do not think I wore leg warmers even once, let alone full-length tights, which stayed at home. You might want to consider them if you plan to spend time around the caldera, because temperatures there are usually around 15°C or lower. And during the winter months it can even snow. Arm warmers, though, are essential. Same goes for a windproof gilet, a must-have in any mountains, or a jacket. The more extreme your plans, the more likely you already know how to dress for them. For me, the setup above was more than enough. I only got properly cold once, coming back from El Retamar at 2,200 metres, when I descended into the caldera and temperatures dropped to around 10°C. If you are planning to hunt for sunset from somewhere elevated, or even just above 1,000 metres, do not joke around. Take an extra layer. The views are fucking spectacular, but once the sun disappears, there is nothing left warming you while you stand still. Descending for a dozen or several dozen kilometres is not a game. There is no point getting hurt or sick during your trip. Think twice. As a rough rule, assume the temperature drops by about 1°C for every 200 metres of elevation gained. When it is a hot 25–27°C by the coast, Vilaflor can sit at around 12–15°C, while at 2,000 metres you may be looking at approximately 10°C or less. It does not matter that you are hot while climbing. The cold hits when you turn around and start descending. For many people that is obvious. For plenty of others, judging by what you can see out on the roads, apparently it is not.
Where to ride in Tenerife?
Wind in the helmet, sun on my face and the hum of my Duro Hypersonics on the asphalt… Why am I mentioning tyres? Because I like mentioning things that are worth discovering. The brand is relatively unknown back home, but these are light, roughly 200 g tyres that cost less than PLN 100 each. For that price, they are a genuinely excellent option. I like them. So: wind in the helmet, sun on the face and tyres humming on the road. That is one of my first memories. Except within that noisy silence, something else was rattling. I stopped several times to check what was happening and which component was about to fall off my bike. After slowing down for a moment, the mystery solved itself. High temperatures and relatively low rainfall mean that in some places the cracked asphalt no longer sits perfectly against the layer underneath. You can both feel and hear it across many parts of the island. You get used to the sound. All right then. Where should you actually ride?
up towards Teide - longest climb in Europe
Let’s start with the classic: “Teide”. Quotation marks because by bike you can “only” reach an altitude of about 2,300 metres, while the summit of Teide itself stands at 3,715 metres. The route towards Teide is the longest climb in Europe. Forty kilometres uphill does things to your head. From sea level to 2,300 metres, which is roughly the cycling equivalent of climbing almost all the way to Rysy, Poland’s highest mountain. Impressive? Yes. Very. It is a genuine challenge, although mostly a mental one. If you are reading this, chances are you ride a bike. And if you ride a bike, chances are you can make it. Still, prepare yourself for four or five hours of slowly grinding uphill and make sure you have gearing of at least 1:1, for example 34:34, which is easy enough to achieve on a road bike. The route does not forgive weakness, though, and several sections demand considerably more determination. I said you can make it. I did not say it would be as easy as riding down the street for bread at Grażynka’s corner shop. So which way should you take to Teide? It depends where you start, but for your first attempt, and probably the most picturesque one, I suggest joining the TF-28 at the nearest convenient point and following it towards Granadilla de Abona. TF-28 begins in Los Cristianos and runs through Valle de San Lorenzo, which was my usual joining point. From Costa del Silencio, I rode there via local roads through Guargacho and Buzanada. Then comes the climb to Mirador de La Centinela and onwards towards Granadilla, from where you head to Vilaflor. From Vilaflor there is essentially one main road leading upwards. The route takes you through beautiful landscapes and ravines, reminding you that somewhere on the edge between ambition and physical suffering, the best journeys tend to begin. Any obscene phrases you invent along the way can be shouted at one of the many viewpoints, perhaps while looking towards Montana Roja. From El Medano it looks like a proper mountain. From around Vilaflor it suddenly resembles an amusing little what-even-is-that-hill. Another interesting route goes through Arona and La Escalona. Another digression: here too, you can either take the main road or choose an absurdly exhausting climb where every hundred metres becomes a battle capable of making you question the entire concept of cycling, life, and whether you should just sell the Opel and be done with it. One day, after posting yet another stupidly steep discovery on Instagram, a local Mr Cyclist sent me one wise sentence: “Adam, stick to main streets, there’s a better way to die than uphill on a 30% slope.” He had a point. If you can choose only one route, take TF-21 through Granadilla. It is beautiful. There are trees, picturesque switchbacks, plenty of sweat, and somewhere in the distance Vilaflor gradually appears, waiting for you with coffee and perhaps something to eat.
Above Vilaflor the landscape changes. You move through forests and volcanic terrain, reaching new peaks of irritation while simultaneously being amazed at almost every viewpoint. Eventually you will reach El Retamar at 2,200 metres. Take a photo with the sign. You never know if, or when, you will return. You also never know whether two days later snow will fall and bury the whole thing. That is exactly what happened in my case. Two days after my visit, when it had still been 15°C at 4 PM up there, snow arrived and the road above Vilaflor was closed for a good three days. Even a week later, patches of snow were still lying by the roadside and in the forest. After your selfie with the sign, continue straight towards Boca Tauce, where the majestic Teide volcano finally appears in front of you in person. Or whatever the volcanic equivalent of “in person” is. From this junction, you can continue towards the lower cable car station, soaking up the views of the enormous Las Cañadas caldera. This is where you finally understand the scale of the volcano. If time and legs allow, you can venture farther towards the observatory near the summit of Izaña. [02|tenerife — las canadas caldera] From Boca Tauce you can also head towards Chio, descending for a long time through volcanic wasteland dotted with trees. However, this considerably extends the loop if you started in the south, so be prepared for 120+ kilometres. The tarmac along this section is not exactly fresh either. The fastest way home is simply to make a 180-degree turn and return along the same route, then consider one of the alternative roads once you reach Vilaflor. I prefer coming back a different way than I arrived. So try the excellent switchbacks descending towards Arona. You are about to experience something rather special: 40 kilometres of almost uninterrupted descent.
Of course, you can also climb towards Teide from the Chio side, using exactly the same road I suggested above as a descent. When you are in Chio, you absolutely must visit Bar Parada. Walk inside, look around at the walls, and you will understand why stopping here for coffee is mandatory. Enjoy!
Anaga Rural Park
For anyone who loves nature and is looking for something genuinely wild, I highly recommend visiting Anaga. A completely different world. One moment you are on a dry, cactus-covered island. The next, you are surrounded by greenery and moisture. This oasis on Tenerife’s north-eastern tip is full of twisting, picturesque roads running through subtropical forests towards views that routinely leave you speechless. I lost count of how many times I stopped along the way convinced it could not possibly get any more beautiful. This is one of those places where you realise your native language lacks sufficient degrees of “holy shit” and “what the actual fuck”. You have to improvise. It is worth it. Magnificent switchbacks, lush vegetation, the descent, and unfortunately the climb back, towards Taganana and Benijo beach. Demanding, but absolutely worth the effort. These are mandatory stops in Anaga. You could say there are basically two roads crossing the whole place, and there is some truth in that. Yet you can easily ride 100 kilometres or more here, and before you realise it, the sun will begin disappearing behind Teide. At that point, being somewhere around Mirador Cruz del Carmen or Mirador de Jardina is highly recommended. You can look down over the mountains and watch San Cristóbal de La Laguna gradually light up in the valley below. You can reach the Anaga area by car or by bus. From San Isidro, there is definitely a possibility of taking your bike on a bus to Santa Cruz, then continuing on two wheels towards picturesque Las Teresitas beach and into the mountains. We first headed towards Chamorga, then Benijo, before finishing the day with a sunset descent towards San Cristóbal. But the variations are endless. And more importantly, encouraged.
more or less flat: the TF-28 route
Want to explore local towns, stop for a solo, leche leche or barraquito, eat some churros and get a feel for how local life flows? Jump onto TF-28 and simply ride in either direction. It is the old road linking Los Cristianos with Santa Cruz, the island’s capital. Nowadays, because the motorway carries most traffic, TF-28 sees very few cars. And the way local drivers behave around cyclists compared with driving culture in Poland feels like two completely different planets. Drivers wait behind you on climbs until there is a safe place to pass. If you can see that the road ahead is clear, give them an *energetic* wave. They do not squeeze past you with centimetres to spare. They do not blast the horn. Unless it is a quick friendly beep to say thanks. That also takes some getting used to. Try not to immediately shout your opinion about someone’s ancestry when you hear a horn. Incidentally, the only time anyone aggressively honked at me and shouted abuse from a car, it turned out to be a fellow Pole travelling with his family. I made sure to say hello in the next town when they got out of the car. The driver’s face rapidly changed to the appropriate colour: beetroot. Anyway. Back to the route. You can follow TF-28 all the way towards Radazul, or descend along the way towards various coastal towns. Just keep in mind that every descent means climbing back up to TF-28 later, so you will be adding roughly 600 metres of elevation each time. I recommend descending around Chimiche to visit La Caleta, Las Arenas and San Miguel de Tajao. From there, you can continue along the coast towards La Jaca and then Abades. Abades itself is worth exploring on foot, like an animal. There is an abandoned settlement there originally intended to become a leprosy sanatorium, although it never actually fulfilled that purpose. Access and exploration are best done on gravel bikes or on foot. I would not recommend taking a road bike there. From Abades you can either return the same way you came or climb back towards Villa de Arico. Either way, you are going uphill. From the next town, Arico Viejo, you can and probably should descend towards Poris de Abona. Unfortunately, the return involves climbing the exact same road. TF-28 is worth riding at least as far as Guimar, or even starting there. The section traversing the mountainside gives you some spectacular views. Still, the stretch towards Radazul is equally picturesque, and you can also plan a visit to Candelaria along the way.
Masca. You’re not skipping this one.
Car, bus, bicycle. Doesn’t matter. If you are in Tenerife, you visit Masca. Understood? I recommend doing it by bike, but this is no longer casual sightseeing. The road is not particularly long, but several steep sections are every bit as breathtaking as the views. Go big or go home. Demanding downhill. Demanding uphill. All of it surrounded by the floating aroma of overheated brakes and clutches. Encouraging shouts from passing vehicles are wonderfully motivating and also provide an excellent opportunity to discover your actual HRmax. As usual in Tenerife, there are several ways to approach the ride, but all of them revolve around Santiago del Teide. You can reach Santiago by bicycle, car or bus. From Santiago, you can attack Mirador de Cherfe and descend from there towards the village. Or not. As in many places in Tenerife, I have an internal conflict here. There are roads that are worth riding in both directions. Whichever direction you choose first, you should simply complete the loop: Santiago – El Tanque – Garachico – Buenavista – Punta de Teno – Masca – Santiago. The Garachico – El Tanque section is an excellent switchback climb that can be made even more entertaining by choosing one particularly murderous road that basically goes straight up. And you know what it means when a road ignores the concept of switchbacks and points straight uphill, right? Grande gradient. Now you know. The views over Garachico from above make it worth being there. Drop a pin in Komoot. In Buenavista, if time allows, definitely consider making a detour towards Punta de Teno. Allow around 1–1.5 hours there and back, including stops devoted to staring at the scenery and whispering obscenities. The Buenavista–Masca section is simply worth riding. On my next visit, I plan to wander through some of the smaller local roads around there. The route from El Palmar towards Montana del Vallado looks interesting. Since I am describing the loop in the same direction I rode it the first time, the final challenge is the aforementioned climb from Masca towards Mirador de Cherfe. It is not easy. It is worth it. [01|tenerife — road to Masca valley]
That is probably enough of the classics. After several intense days like these, you are fully entitled to schedule a rest day. In fact, you should. Recovery matters.
cycling hidden gems, although not that hidden
To finish, a few of the little gems I mentioned earlier, mostly pointing upwards. Although if you would like to test whether disc brakes are better than rim brakes, you are welcome to ride them down as well. They are better. I heard legends about several of these climbs from local cyclists. Many others I simply discovered myself by exploring random side streets well away from the main roads. Once you have completed the classics, which you absolutely should, simply turn wherever your eyes tell you to go. Even if the road ends after a few hundred metres. Which is highly likely. Still, there are some interesting roads close to the routes described above. First: La Fuente. I discovered this climb while descending and searching for an alternative road. It was my first encounter with a wall this steep and demanding. We do not really have roads like this in Poland. Prepare yourself for at least ten minutes of uninterrupted carnage. And do not even think about stopping, because getting started again might turn out to be a problem. See that little house and the corner near the top? That is where it becomes worst. Fortunately, that is also the finish. If you ride it twice within half an hour, let me know. I’ll buy you a bottle of wine. Then I’ll take you somewhere even better nearby. Another entertaining option is Chirche, which I mentioned earlier. Every local cyclist knows it. Not every local cyclist will tell you riding it is a good idea. It is brutally steep and a little longer than La Fuente. It forgives nothing. I love the atmosphere when locals start cheering you on or simply asking why on earth you decided to ride that road. You pass cars cautiously crawling downhill through the village, while other cars slowly overtake the wheezing cyclist, the vehicle itself seemingly working almost as hard as the rider. To quote a classic Polish meme: “So, do you have this in Poland? Do you have this in Poland?” Well. No. We don’t. For the third killer, let us take the road from Granadilla de Abona through Cruz de Tea. It does not exactly begin gently, but just when you start thinking it is not that bad, you turn through a ninety-degree corner and a wall appears in front of you. Cars do not park there. The asphalt is scratched by the claws of animals that apparently slide down instead of walking like a huma… like an animal. This was one of those climbs where I desperately wished I had something easier than 36×29. If all of the above sounds appealing, or if you consider these roads suitable for kindergarten children, head towards Buenavista del Norte. While following the main road to or from Garachico, look towards La Montana, the obvious hill rising towards the ocean. On its slopes you will see straight roads resembling ski-jumping ramps. The sections above the final cross street reach gradients somewhere around 45 degrees. Number five is something completely different. An easy recovery-day discovery and a curiosity not everyone knows about. Near El Medano you will find Antena de Central, an old ruined photovoltaic installation, or perhaps some other kind of structure designed to collect solar energy. The atmosphere there is completely apocalyptic, pulled straight from Mad Max. You can manage the short gravel section on a road bike. Worth visiting. What next? Ask. Or improvise.
Planning cycling routes in Tenerife
For any exploration away from the main roads, I recommend planning with Komoot + Google Maps. Komoot does a reasonably good job of showing the surface type along a planned route, but it is also worth checking whether Street View is available for every section. As a general rule, if the Google car managed to drive through, the road should probably be fine. Probably. Still, take a closer look in case what appears to be a perfectly reasonable road turns out to be a gentle trail made of rubble rather than asphalt. And that is basically it. Let the rest become an adventure.
What to eat and drink in Tenerife?
Keep your bottles topped up. As the famous local saying goes: The higher you go, the fewer shops there are. Siesta is another concept that exists somewhere far outside my personal flow of understanding reality. People on the island generally drink water from dispensers rather than directly from the tap, so Tenerife lacks something familiar from mainland Spain or Italy: public fountains dispensing delicious aqua drinkale. In an emergency, you can always ask at a house or farm whether someone can refill your bottle, but do not expect dense development above 1,200–1,400 metres. Vilaflor and Chio are the final towns on the way towards Teide. These are the places where you should restock before continuing upwards with a peaceful mind. I absolutely recommend visiting the churrería in Granadilla de Abona, right next to the square bearing the town’s name. You’ll find it. For me it became a frequent stop for coffee and genuinely excellent churros. There are always some riders hanging around there too. Apart from that, obviously try the standard Canary Islands classics: Papas Arrugadas potatoes and Pimientos de Padrón. I would not be lying if I said I practised making them at home every second day, occasionally eating them somewhere along the route as well. It is worth visiting a proper guachinche for typical local food. The Canaries may not be the absolute culinary summit of variety, but the food can definitely be good. Local gofio flour is used in several interesting dishes, including escaldón and a dessert mousse. Then there are garbanzas, chickpeas cooked in sauce. They eat roast chicken too. Better than KFC because it comes off a rotisserie or some other kind of grill. They also serve chips with fried eggs. There is a proper name for it. I forgot it. If you are vegetarian, skip ahead to the next paragraph, because I am about to recommend something containing considerably more than trace amounts of meat. Specifically, if you happen to find burger de cabra, give it a try. I never managed to find one myself, although apparently your chances are better in the north. I did see considerably more little burgers running around the fields there. I first tried goat meat on Fuerteventura and really liked its distinctive flavour. So yes. Recommended.
same time, next year
Remember how I mentioned potatoes at the beginning? Yes. I bought a kilogram of Papas Arrugadas and brought them home with me. If something is stupid but it works, it is not stupid. That saying does not really apply here, but it at least provides partial justification for importing potatoes from another country, okay? When you return home from Tenerife to somewhere where temperatures struggle to reach 5°C, you want to bring a little piece of sunshine back with you. Even if it happens to take the form of a potato. You can also bring Padrón peppers, which can be ordered online and occasionally found in Lidl. A small tip in case you develop a taste for them. If you actually made it all the way through this article, there is a decent chance you enjoyed it. Leave some kind of comment behind. I’d appreciate it.
If you have questions, ask away.
And if you are planning a winter stay in Tenerife, or if reading this has just planted the idea in your head, drop by Instagram @adam_jedrysik and maybe I’ll see you there.
Actually, even if you are not planning to visit Tenerife, follow me anyway.
If we do not cross paths there, perhaps we will somewhere in Poland or another corner of Europe.
zostaw ślad po sobie!