Thursday July 27, 1922

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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