On my AirPods beating me to Africa

 Why did I go to Tenerife? Simple. I knew I was going to Oktoberfest. Figured I should calculate in some WFH time before the debauchery. 

Googles: where in Europe is only five hours ahead of NYC

Not many options are generated by this search. It's basically UK, Ireland, Portugal, Faroe Islands, and ... you guessed it ... the Canary Islands.

I was between Faroe Islands and Canary Islands. 

Googles: Temperature of Faroe Islands in September

Eek. Canary Islands it is.

Googles: Main island to do things in Canary Islands but without car but definitely near beach and with good WiFi and good hostels and food

Tenerife!

All because I finished my pedicure before my friends and had some extra time.

Flew out on a Thursday night, landed on a Friday afternoon in Tenerife and got to my hostel just as my work day was starting. Also figured out what to do if I am about to finish a book and can't be bothered with the extra weight. 

Hooked up to some WiFi and got cracking. Realized that it makes way more sense to fly out Thursday night because guess what you then have?! Friday night at your new destination. 

Closed my laptop and looked around. 

*Asks for a light from the person closest to them*

"You guys going out tonight?"

"Yeah, are you coming?!"

And that is my Ted Talk on how to meet people to hang out with for the weekend even though you had to work until 9 PM. 

Out on the town I went with Anna, from Russia, and her friend—whose name I forget—from Ukraine. I owe them so, so much as they introduced me to what became my nightly staple for a post-work unwind: Fun Pub. Think live music with intermittent karaoke, jaeger bombs, dancing, broken glass, and cheap beers. Fun Pub! We united with a German and Frenchman from our hostel which led to a—hysterical-at-the-time—joke starting with "an American, Russian, Ukrainian, German, and Frenchman walk into a bar..." I actually think that may have been the entirety of the joke. The evening concluded with a walk down the beach, a dip in the pool, and a glass of wine with my new pals. Day one was a success. Up next? Two days off aka THE WEEKEND.

Saturday: off to Playa Los Cristianos for kayaking and snorkeling. As it often goes, I was the only solo kayaker and had the privilege of observing many a couple come to the realization that either a) one of them is extremely weak, b) they make a terrible team, or c) one of them has to steer the kayak. We lost a couple couples along the way. 

What to do for the rest of the day?! Maybe a wander, a bite, a rum, a beach? The "bite" proved to be a bit difficult—as it has of late. All of my guidebooks are from 2019 or 2020, which means, as you may guess, that, unfortunately, the majority of the food recommendations no longer exist. But at least in seeking them out ... I got to see more of the town? After approximately four of the restaurants I was trying to find turned out to be a bust, I settled in at a random one that was at least cute and got down to downing my go-to vacay beverage: rum and coke. 

What?!

Not a gin and tonic?!

Well. Tonic is hard for some bars for some reason. CocaCola? Not so much. They seem to get it right. And you know what? Rum and coke tastes like vacation. 

There is one thing I have found that I am completely incapable of doing whilst traveling alone. Do I get lost constantly? Sure. Do I make mistakes on hostels? Yeah. Do I order the wrong drink? Sometimes. Would an interpreter be of assistance? I guess.

But the one thing that I get wrong at every goddamn turn is food ordering. Bring me to a Michelin star restaurant, and I will somehow order the one thing that the chef himself hates that the owner forced him to put on the menu. I present you an example below:

Shishito peppers and octopus??? As a meal??? I mean, did I get a bit of a look from my server when I ordered? Yeah. But. Everything was tapas style without being tapas size. I panicked. I can miss a train and just shrug my shoulders, but put a MENU in front of me—in any language, including English—and I am a deer with an RV careening towards it. Frozen. Then panic. Then. The wrong decision. Every. Time.

Next: beach. 

Time to find a taxi home. How? When putting "taxi" into your phone doesn't work, wander around and ask people where the taxis are. Success!

Upon arrival back to my hostel room, Naranja, I found my roommates sitting around drinking, chattin', having a good ol' time. Introductions all around—Philomena, Jon, Ruchita—and then? I was off to dinner. After my horrendous decision-making at my previous meal, I was hellbent on course-correcting. 

As I looked overtop my menu, out at the sea, I concluded that from the sea I must gain my sustenance: Sole! 

The sole itself? Great. The veggies that I immediately recognized from the frozen veggies that my mom used to buy from ShopRite? Welp. They reminded me of my childhood at least.

And back to my roommates for what was decidedly the start of the rest of my time in Tenerife. 

It's a Saturday night. We're young. We've been drinking. Want some live music. Where do we go? Fun Pub!!! And just like that, Fun Pub had some new converts. 

The notable characters in this evening were the aforementioned roommates, Spela (that must be her name because I have her in my phone as "Stela with a P"), and Leonardo.

Fun Pub:

After getting kicked out of Fun Pub at 2am (???) due to its apparent nightly "closing time", we rounded the corner to another bar that was… also closing. BUT this bar was totally OK with serving us some Jaeger Bombs (to go) thanks to the skilled persuasions of Ruchita. Nice.

On to Achaman Discopub that has comparatively extended hours. Except. One of us can't get in. Mr. No Sleeves himself. Jon. At this point, we're an unbreakable, no-man-left-behind team. We all step outside to discuss next steps. 

Ruchita, ever the problem solver, volunteered to switch shirts with Jon. The switch is made. Whilst Jon is now in a crop top, at least his SHOULDERS and ARMPITS are covered. We attempt a reentrance. 

Nope. Absolutely not.

Back outside. Enter Leo. 

"Leooo, you have a shorter torso, yeah?"

Another switch is made. We now have Ruchita wearing Jon, Leo wearing Ruchita, and Jon wearing Leo. Back to the ever-vigilant bouncers. 

Success. 

I was supposed to go see turtles the next day (either that or whales (dolphins?)), but it was indeed most likely a turtle boat tour. Honestly, it was the only boat tour that I could book through the hostel besides that kayaking I already did, so I was IN. Until I wasn't.

Off to the beach instead, not quiiite a boat tour, but also not a bad way to start the day. Met up with the roomies for "breakfast"—which in my case was the driest chicken ever created—like left-under-the-warmer-for-seven-hours dry. The trend continues.

Our choice mode of transportation—if we craved a wee bit more excitement than what walking could deliver—was motorized scooters. The first night I was much too frightened by the concept, so I rode with Jon. Alas, the hills had become so steep that I was hopping off and running alongside him to prevent us from rolling backwards down the hill. Time to conquer my fears. 

It quickly became clear that I had reason to be fearful. Within minutes of grabbing my own scooter, Ruchita turned around to give me a thumbs up and BAMB. Well. More like, wobble, wobble, tip, down she went. A fun little first aid exhibition was in tall order before hitting the beach with some warm rum and coke to boot.

Back to meet up with Philo (who had somehow surfed all day) for dinner which we searched all over for (and either never found or it was closed?) All I know is we ended up here:

I clearly did not come to Tenerife on a foody tour.

Back to ... Fun Pub! Then, bar on the corner, which (surprise!) was closing again, so off we went to enjoy our drinks outside with the standup people on the curb.

These two guys on the curb started chatting Ruchita and I up. They were annoying us, so we pretended to be lesbians so that they would leave, naturally.

Within a minute (to two minutes) of them leaving, I felt directly next to me where I had so smartly left my purse with my phone on top of it. Gone. I calmly stood up.

"Heyyy ... so I don't mean to be dramatic, but I am fairly certain that someone may have taken my phone and wallet..?"

Everyone: "Huh? What?"

Situation sinks in: "Oh shit. Yeahhhh, my wallet and phone were stolen within the last five minutes."

Roomies jump into action.

Not sure which one of us realized it first but within the next minute, it was obvious the only people that had been close enough to steal the items were the two guys that Ruchita and I were putting our lesbian show on for. 

"They went that way," said one of the roomies. The four of us turned the corner in true Charlie Hunnum circa Green Street Hooligans formation.

And just like that, the one guy was coming towards us, waving my purse, as if he had just found it on the ground. Three blocks away?

The thief started running towards us.

Ruchita started running towards him.

We all started running after Ruchita. 

BOOM.

Ruchita's fist met the thief's face. 

He immediately handed over the purse. And the phone. 

He tried to convince us that it was his friend and not him that had stolen my shit (which had all of us except Ruchita for a moment).

Upon opening my purse, I realized my AirPods and $200 had been stolen. Some hero this guy was. I can, to this day, track my AirPods to see where the thieves are since they are still registered to me. Last known location: Western Sahara (if anyone's looking).

I was mad. 

At myself. 

Who puts their stuff down when they're in a foreign country just trusting those around them??? ME. UGH. (I have since bought a fanny pack which, whilst not foolproof, has not yet let me down).

Roomies asked how they could help.

"Beer?" I said.

We found a man, with a store, a closed store, that we somehow convinced to let us buy beer (a couple of times?) A running theme for us, apparently.

By looking at the photos, apparently, we spent the night having Jon mansplain to us how to open a beer bottle with a beer bottle.

Throw in a little beach in the AM and it was back to work the next day. After having GONE TO BED Monday night, I was, of course—very easily—awakened and convinced by Ruch & Philo to partake in some Monday night Fun Pub fun. The scooters that we rode EVERYWHERE had certain "docking corners," which, especially after drinking, causes a terrible amount of confusion as there is neither rhyme nor reason for why certain corners are acceptable over others. There are also certain "zones" where the scooter slows down to 1MPH, and you have to figure out which direction to go for it to start working again. Maybe we never even saved time by using these???

Tuesday was El Medano day. After searching throughout the town for headphones and, too late, realizing that it was the THREE HOUR siesta time, I camped out and held my meetings in the open air, with the roomies enjoying the sun a taaad bit more a few meters away (maybe it was more than that because it took me forever to find them later, but the point is, they were at the beach whilst I just looked at the beach over the top of my laptop ... could be worse though.)

And alas, Tuesday night was my final evening in Tenerife. After a—pretty good, I think?—dinner over the water, followed by, predictably, Fun Pub (whilst it was fun, if you haven't figured it out by now, this was the closest bar to us that was open past liiiike 11pm, so ... Fun Pub again!!), we had some street beers (since we were now boycotting the location where my possessions had been stolen), then zoomed over to Playa Americanas where there were more bars open late (oh ya because I had to stay up until 7am, so had to keep the energy up). 

Once the energy level plateaued, then plummeted, in this area, we headed back to the place that had secured our bond in the first place: Achaman. Whilst it brought most of us back to life, we did lose Stella with a P along the way ...

Back to the hostel where my chariot to the airport awaited. I said my goodbyes, grabbed a beer, and awoke at the airport with a full beer in my hand.

Off to Madrid!

Working day at OK Hostel Madrid and the surrounding area, followed by dinner and wine in Plaza Mayor to celebrate the end of my working trip and beginning of VaCaTiOn.