Tenerife.
Distance travelled 174 miles.
The sky last evening was grey and the sea an unbroken
stretch of water.
This morning I was roused from bed by the stopping of the
propeller. It was 6.0 am. A week ago today we were conscious of its action: now
we have become so accustomed to it that its cessation strikes one immediately as
something “new”. I jumped up and looked through my porthole.
Across a stretch of water of the bluest blue and deliciously
rippled on the surface rose great mountains of rock rising right from the water’s
edge and towering tier upon tier – higher and higher away back into the
interior of the island (The highest peak is over 12,000 feet). In many places
the mountain sides were bare jaded rock but for the most part covered with
coarse vegetation, too far off to be seen in any detail. In the steep-sided
valleys between these giant rocks one could just make out the dark green of
great woods, flourishing in their protected position. The sun was low down away
to the right and shining brilliantly not far above the horizon so that the
whole scene was lit up from the side. The effect was really indescribable.
Magnificent
The morning rose, in
memorable pomp,
Glorious as e'er I had
beheld--in front,
The sea lay laughing….
near,
The solid mountains
shone, bright as the clouds,
Grain-tinctured,
drenched in empyrean light;
And in the meadows and
the lower grounds
Was all the sweetness
of a common dawn –
Wordsworth The prelude book IV.
All the hills and valleys facing east were enjoying the full
sunlight and was clear and bright to the smallest detail the unaided eye could
make out; all those facing west were in deep shadow – black and indistinct by
contrast yet looking magnificent in their mystery, whilst the sharp ridges
running down the mountain sides divided the one from the other by a line as
clear cut as a knife edge.
I dressed quickly and went to the front of the boat and
there before me the town of Santa Cruz was spread out: bathed in the early
sunlight with dark blue sea in front and the great rocky mountains behind.
The houses, white, pink, yellows and a host of other shades,
flat topped and crowded together made a living interpretation of pictures one
had seen of Eastern cities in the Mediterranean or some Syrian town on the sea
of Galilee…
- We breakfasted at 7.0am and went ashore
as soon as possible in one of the motor launchers which had come out for the
purpose. Securing a Guide we were conducted to two good motor cars on the quay
and dividing our party – 5 persons filled each car, away we went.
First to the market to try some of the island's famous fruit
and then on for a most delightful drive. It was good to feel the earth under
ones feet once more!
The market place was not unlike a corner of that at
Barnstaple – with stalls numbered in a similar way – but the people – the waves,
the languages and the customs of the market were all so different and
therefore, so interesting.
After trying fruit - baskets and all for 2f we went a long
winding hill to the former capital of the island: Laguna. Our car was a
powerful Overland and the way she went up that hill was good for the soul. It
was delightful to be motoring again – and so unexpected (with eyes shut we
might almost have been doing some long climb with our good old cars on Exmore).
The road was appallingly bad in surface as we know roads but on we flew up and
up until we reached the Cathedral of the old town – a rather gaudy Catholic
place of little beauty but considerable historic interest.
Some sort of Morning
Prayer was taking place; much mumbling and chanting which could hardly be
called musical. I wondered how much the people understood and what benefit they
got from a strange tongue and could not keep from feeling how much better they
would have done by walking outside over the eternal hills at their very doors –
with the great mighty ocean in the distance – away from the crowds and
conventions of the life in the narrow streets to be even for a few moments of
the glorious dawn:
“Alone with God amidst the mystic shadows the solemn hush of Nature
newly born, Alone with Him in breathless adoration in the calm dew and
freshness of the morn”.
The Cathedral is dedicated to St. Christopher and as we
passed a little later on the return from our drive a military procession formed
up in the square and fired a salute in honour of the Saint.
We returned to Santa
Cruz and saw the Cathedral there. Here the guide proudly shows us some English
flags captured by the Spaniards from Nelson. Nearby is the sacred cross (whence
the town gets its name) brought here from Spain on May 3, 1494. Dispensing the
cars we went to the shops and learned the method of bargaining from our Elders
in the art!
The shop keepers on principle ask up to twice as much as
they are likely to get and the purchasers offer about half what he is prepared
to give and gradually the two meet (or hope to!) at some common price somewhere
between the two extremes. To watch (and hear) the Palmers (experienced here and
well-remembered by the shops people) was an entertainment of the most amusing
kind.
I made one or two purchases but have reserved most of any
shopping for my journey home (otherwise we would pay duty on entering the Congo
to no purpose). I have earmarked one or two choice things to bring back with
me.
We returned to the Albertville just after 11.0 and sailed away
just before noon giving three blasts on the hooter in salute as we left. We sailed
past mountainous coast for the rest of the day but by nightfall we were out in
the open sea once more.
It is good to feel these great mountains will wait here for
us until our return journey and will look just as fresh and bright and
wonderful when we next see them as now and will still be looking so to others
all the time which intervenes whilst we are working in the heart of Africa.
Tonight there is a beautiful crescent moon in the west
making a faint beautifully mysterious “path of glory” across the great waters.
Venus shines close by with a brilliant radiance as we sail away with bows
pointing south.
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