GR131 Canary Islands, Day 16: Wednesday, Jan 28, 2026
​First day on Tenerife.
​We had pre-ordered a taxi for 7:30 AM to drive us the roughly 10 km (6.2 miles) to La Esperanza, the northern starting point of the GR131 on Tenerife. It was going to be a very long trek today, so we wanted an early start.

​We stepped out onto the street ten minutes before the taxi was due. It was still dark; sunrise wasn’t until 7:55 AM. The asphalt was wet and black. It had rained, even though the forecast hadn’t predicted it, and fog hung heavy over the area.

Our apartment wasn’t far from the airport, and suddenly a plane appeared right above us, coming in for landing. Its wheels were down and the landing lights cast bright beams through the fog. We saw and heard it for a few seconds before the moment passed, leaving the street dark and black once again.

​We were anxious about whether the taxi would actually show up. I had called the dispatcher yesterday to book the trip. I hoped I’d pronounced the address correctly and that the woman understood me, but doubt gnawed at me. After all, the Spanish aren’t exactly famous for being the most punctual.

​»How much longer?» Inger asked.
«One minute,» I replied, watching the second hand pass twelve and the minute hand jump to :29.
One minute later, to the second, the taxi arrived. Fantastic! Incredible! Superlatives poured out of my mouth. I take back everything I’ve ever thought about Spanish punctuality.

​It was rush hour, and the taxi avoided the main roads, but we arrived safely despite the rear suspension being completely shot. The ride cost just under €20. We thanked the driver profusely and said our goodbyes.

We were now in the town square of La Esperanza, but we couldn’t find a sign for the GR131 trailhead. Eventually, we spotted a directional sign on a street corner.
It was light now; the taxi had dropped us off at an elevation of about 900 meters (2,950 feet), and we had risen above the fog. The driver told us we were lucky because it’s usually foggy there. In fact, we started hiking exactly as the sun peeked over the horizon, the horizontal yellow rays hitting us as we entered the dense forest of the park.

The trail climbed steeply through the thick woods. After about five minutes, we emerged from the dark forest into a sunlit street. The road continued steeply upward, lined with houses behind solid fences and gates—thankfully keeping the many barking dogs safely inside their properties.

​We crossed the 1,000-meter (3,280-foot) mark and continued another 50 meters (165 feet) of elevation before the buildings were behind us and the forest stretched out ahead.

Inside the forest, the route eventually leveled out, making for easy walking despite many muddy and damp sections. In a clearing, we could see the peak of Mount Teide in the direction we were heading.

There were a few patches of fog at the start, followed by blue skies above, though the dense forest didn’t offer much in the way of views. What we did see was a white sea of clouds below us.

Eventually, we reached a section of forest that had been hit by a wildfire a few years ago, though the trees weren’t entirely dead. It wasn’t like the «ghost forests» we’ve hiked through in the US.

​It turned out to be a long day of forest hiking with a lot of elevation gain. Our goal was to reach Recreativa La Caldera—a recreation area near the TF-21 road, south of La Orotava—while it was still light.

The hiking went smoothly until we reached a section where the fire had been more intense. Many dead trees had fallen across the path, turning it into an obstacle course of charred logs. The trail ran along steep hillsides, making it a challenge to scramble over the many trunks blocking our way.

Our pace slowed to a crawl for several kilometers. In addition to getting covered in soot, the risk of injury was high. Fortunately, we escaped with nothing more than some scraped, bloody shins.

Where there has been a fire, thick underbrush often follows. In some places, it was so dense we couldn’t even see the trail; we had to feel our way forward through plants over 2 meters (6.5 feet) tall.

The final stretch of the route dropped steeply through the woods. I could see that we were unfortunately descending back into the sea of fog. Once we hit the mist, we had to layer up. We had only 3 km (1.8 miles) left, walking on a nearly flat logging road.

When we finally arrived, it turned out the recreation area wasn’t suitable for camping, and tenting is actually prohibited in this area. We ended up settling for the parking lot. We dropped our packs at 6:38 PM, one minute before sunset. We just managed to get set up before total darkness fell. We ate inside the tent by the light of our headlamps.

​It had been a long, grueling day. I didn’t have the energy to write, so we laid down to sleep. Suddenly, a car approached. We heard it and saw the lights through the tent fabric. There was no missing the blue lights on the roof. What now? It screeched to a halt outside the tent, and a uniformed officer jumped out. He leaned toward the tent door and informed us that camping was not allowed here.

​He was part of a fire patrol. He told us we could stay until tomorrow morning regardless, but the tent had to be down before sunrise because rangers would be coming to check the area. He was blunt at first but softened up, saying he wouldn’t tell the rangers we were there.
​We thanked him and promised faithfully to leave before sunrise.

​Today’s stats: 32 km (19.8 miles) and 1,410 meters (4,625 feet) of elevation gain.