Vallehermoso

The morning mist rolls in like a living thing, swallowing banana terraces whole until only the tip of Roque Cano remains visible—a 200-metre volcanic plug that serves as the valley's compass point. Below, Vallehermoso's white houses cling to slopes so steep that washing lines hang at angles which would send health-and-safety officers into fits back home.

This isn't one of those chocolate-box Canarian villages. It's better than that. Vallehermoso works for its living, a place where elderly men still shuffle down impossibly narrow lanes carrying machetes for pruning palms, and the Saturday market smells more of soil than sunscreen. The name translates as "beautiful valley," though the beauty here requires a bit of effort to appreciate—much like the hiking trails that radiate from the town centre in all directions.

The Vertical Challenge

Everything in Vallehermoso involves going either up or down. There's no flat. The main road GM-2 arrives via 27 hairpin bends from San Sebastián, each turn revealing another layer of terraced agriculture that would make a Nepalese farmer nod in recognition. Park wherever you can—spaces in the old centre disappear faster than tapas at a British wedding reception. The outskirts work fine; everything's walkable if your calves are up for it.

Start at the church plaza, where locals gather at café tables that have seen better decades. The Iglesia de San Juan Bautista squats solidly nearby, its Canarian-style wooden balconies practical rather than pretty. From here, you've got choices. Up leads to miradors with Atlantic views that stretch to Tenerife's peak on clear days. Down means negotiating paths so steep that residents have installed handrails—concrete evidence that daily life here doubles as endurance training.

The beach lies 400 metres below town, accessible via a concrete road that serves as大自然's own StairMaster. What awaits isn't sand but smooth stones the size of cricket balls, polished by waves that crash with enough force to make swimming advisable only for the certifiably insane. A saltwater swimming pool sits nearby, though British visitors report it's often closed—check with locals rather than risking the descent on false promises.

Walking into Another World

Vallehermoso's real magic starts where the tarmac ends. Circular walking routes 4, 5, 6 and 39 begin right in town, no transport required. Route 4 climbs through palm groves and past abandoned terraces where agave plants have achieved tree-like proportions. The path follows ancient water channels, their stone walls thick with moss in this microclimate that catches trade-wind moisture.

Higher up, everything changes. Laurel forest takes over, straight from a Tolkien illustration. The air temperature drops ten degrees in as many minutes. Suddenly you're walking through cloud forest, the path disappearing into mist that swirls around tree ferns and moss-covered branches. This is Garajonay National Park territory—though here it feels like you've stumbled in through the back entrance rather than joining coach parties at official viewpoints.

The descent back towards town passes through agricultural layers that read like a vertical timeline. At 800 metres, vineyards produce grapes for local wines. Lower down, avocado trees flourish in hollows protected from wind. Near town, banana plantations dominate—though these aren't the neat plantation rows of guidebooks but higgledy-piggledy terraces wedged wherever geography permits.

What Actually Tastes Good

Forget fusion cuisine. Vallehermoso does traditional Canarian, modified slightly for visitors who find goat stew a bridge too far. Tasca El Carraca on the main street serves excellent grilled fish alongside European-leaning dishes—their tuna with onions provides safe harbour for conservative British palates. Portions run large; sharing makes sense unless you've just walked route 6.

Bar Victoria, near the church, offers the full local experience. Try the watercress soup—surprisingly similar to British varieties but with added potatoes and cumin. Their beef stew tastes familiar enough, though the accompanying gofio (toasted grain flour) might baffle. Finish with milk pudding drizzled with palm honey, produced from local trees using techniques unchanged since before Columbus sailed past.

For something special, drive twenty minutes to Alojera. Prisma restaurant sits practically on the beach, serving seafood so fresh it was probably swimming that morning. Their tuna salad arrives in portions that could feed a family, while the catch-of-the-day changes based on what local boats actually landed. Book ahead—word spreads among the small British expat community.

When Things Go Wrong (and They Will)

Vallehermoso humbles arrogant travellers. That "easy" two-hour coastal walk? Add another hour for photo stops and route-finding. The botanical garden, officially closed, tempts via a side entrance—but inside, paths disappear under overgrown vegetation. Stick to marked trails unless you've packed a machete and considerable patience.

Weather changes faster than British politics. Morning sunshine becomes afternoon fog without warning. Pack layers, even in August. The difference between coast and 1000-metre altitude exceeds 15 degrees—more than London to Marrakech. Waterproofs prove essential; this north-coast location catches weather systems that bypass southern resorts entirely.

Parking tickets plague the unwary. Blue zones exist but signage assumes fluent Spanish. When in doubt, park further out and walk—consider it warm-up for the hiking trails. The town spreads across several kilometres; your accommodation might sit twenty minutes from restaurants. Factor this in before that third glass of wine with dinner.

The Honest Truth

Vallehermoso won't suit everyone. Those seeking sandy beaches and cocktail bars should stay on Tenerife. The town closes early, entertainment runs to watching elderly men play dominoes, and mobile reception disappears in valleys. Rain falls more frequently than package-holiday brochures suggest.

But for walkers prepared to sweat, photographers willing to chase light through changing cloud layers, or travellers seeking Spain before tourism—this place delivers. The valley's beauty isn't immediate. It reveals itself gradually: in morning light catching Roque Cano's distinctive profile, in the satisfaction of reaching a viewpoint after an hour's steep climb, in conversations with locals who've never quite got round to learning English but communicate perfectly through gesture and goodwill.

Come prepared for effort. Vallehermoso rewards those who arrive with decent boots, realistic expectations, and a willingness to climb. Everyone else can stay on the beach—though here, even that's 400 metres straight down.