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Lost in Los  Christianos

I'm sure people have been saying clever things about getting lost since the Classical poets. I've not read anything I prefer to my own adage: if you've never been lost you've never gone far enough. There's something quite wonderful about being lost, especially since it's quite a challenge these days. Don't recognise a street? Gmaps will lead the way! Until, of course, you don't have data and have to stop relying on a device to make up for your own shortcomings.

In fairness it's debatable whether we actually did wind up getting lost in Los Cristianos, but it's undeniable that for some time we thought we were lost in Playas las Americas. Sibel and I had been there a couple of days ago for a Pink Floyd concert (but, y'know, not actually Floyd obviously), and we were pretty sure that we'd got off the bus about a stop before Magma, closer to the MacD's we'd gone in search of that Saturday.

Water flows downhill, we knew, and the natural habitat of franchised fast food joints in Tenerife is the waterfront. And so we followed our impeccable instincts to the shoreline and, sure enough, those golden arches rose above the rooftops like a terribly misjudged wedding cake decoration. That's the place, we thought. But we were wrong.

This place had tables and chairs outside. Being familiar with the concept of outside furniture, we figured they could've been added over the past couple of days... but then where was the purple moodlighty place across the street? Clearly there were two MacD's on the waterfront of Playas las Americas, which seemed odd but totally justifiable.

We ate, went east, and came to some stairs... it was around this point that I started to get suspicious. Was this even Deja Vu? I thought... there's a staircase *exactly* like this in... there it is! There's the bar we were at on Friday! And suddenly everything fell into place and we were no longer lost. Of course it wasn't the same MacDonalds... it wasn't even the same town. We were, for a moment, rather embarrassed about the level of confidence we'd had in our being in Playas las Americas when in fact we were in a totally different town, but both having been on Tenerife for only a few weeks shrugged off our total failure of orientation and discovered that the owner of the bar we were at on Friday actually remembered us. I learned a valuable lesson that day, and that lesson is that there are four stops between Los Cristianos and Playas las Americas, not three.

By Oscar Hawes - Field Communications Officer

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