◾Not seen many wind farms in Tenerife, but lots of solar. There were some offshore turbines up near Santa Cruz, but with the strength of the wind, especially at this time of year, you might expect more.
◾Down by the rocky beach, Playa Los Callados, over the road from Paloma Beach Apartments there are two rows of grand-looking villas called Parque Tropical Tres (3). Not sure where Parque Tropicals 1 and 2 are.
The villas stand between Calles Falua and Carnada. I passed one while out on a walk and heard an English radio station playing in the garden.
Then I saw a wrinkled, bronzed man mincing around in the most ridiculous black ruched swimming trunks.
My wife Jane later suggested he might have been wearing his wife’s retro bikini bottoms.
These properties contrast markedly with the other settlement that has been thrown up on Calle Falua, which has become a parking lot for dozens of camper vans.
In fact, a lot of the available parking areas around this quiet end of Los Cristianos are favoured by campers.
Down on the beach there is often evidence of group gatherings. It is a great sunset spot with the rocky outcrops and a small fish farm bobbing happily on the waves in the distance.
◾The English newspapers available here all have a version of this story about the US-Iran conflict today.
◾Later we went to a fish restaurant in San Miguel de Abona with Lisa and Moncho.
The meal starts at the fish counter, where you make your selection. That goes into a white plastic tray, which is delivered to the kitchen.
You could have chosen a lobster from a nearby tank, but they looked too cute to eat.
Now you are seated at your table and start chowing on bread and mojo sauces, red and green. You talk about TV. You order wine and water. Lisa ordered a lovely organic white wine from Bodega Frontos.
Then your food arrives. In our case it was mussels, squid and heap of small fish that looked like whitebait. This came with a huge salad that included white asparagus.
At the end of this my appetite was satisfied. Then a massive fish was introduced to the table, plus a bowl of Canarian potatoes, papas arrugadas.
It appears that my appetite was tamed by the starter only, and the Big Fish, lovely as it was, became a mere addition to the growing contents of my stomach.