Day 2 - Tenerife

This morning we lay in until 10:30am (we've both vowed not to get up early this holiday) and each helped ourself to a bowl of choco-snaps, although we have no bowls to eat them from. Other than a fruit bowl.

We were out by 11:30 and on the windy mountain road to Masca. With Kamal at the wheel again I was left to shut my eyes and pray for survival - some of the locals do enjoy hanging out on our side of the road!

Stress over we arrived at the village. And what a view!

We walked down to the village and used the toilet before deciding it would be a fantastic idea to hike down the mountain!

We asked a spritely looking man how far it was to the coast and he told us 1hr, maybe 2 if you're slow. We laughed, 'That's alright' we agreed. So we began a descent masked by complete beauty. We were also constantly followed by beautiful red dragonflies!

2hrs later, we decided never to trust the first man up the mountain! In scorching heat (thankfully this time I was applying sun-cream like it was oxygen), having bruised our feet and ruined our knees jumping from rock to rock downhill we met another couple who told us it was at least another hour to the coast. We were going to turn back when a 40yr old looking local told us it wasn't so bad. 'Yeh, you're right,'. 'There's a boat at the bottom' he told us - so on we went!

And on, 

and on, and on, and I nearly cried at least twice and I slipped on a rock and grazed my leg and arm. But finally, with just that bowl of chocosnaps in our belly and a quarter of a bottle of Ribena between us, we reached the sea and scraped together 20 euros for a boat back to Los Gigantes. It felt like that moment in Robin Hood Pronce of Thieves when he eats the sand - I have never been that happy to reach the bottom of a hill! We then had exactly 2 euros left to buy water - and water has never tasted so good!!!

We struggled a further 5mins for a quick swim too! I had no bikini but no-one else seemed to care, so we both stripped down to our underwear and jumped in to ride the waves with the rest of them!

The waves got strong pretty quick so I got out, knowing full well I had no strength to swim! We made it to our boat (no not the ones in the picture) and set out across the crystal clear seas!

We arrived in Los Gigantes smelling as though we had only ever bathed in our own sweat, so headed to our hotel to shower, change and eat some well-deserves pasta! Our floor is now covered in wet clothes!

Then we had a car to salvage from a car park on top of Masca mountain, so paid 23euros to get a taxi back to it! We were met with a surprise when we got there. The couple we had met a few times on the way down the mountain, who looked to be struggling as much as we were, had spent the three hours we had spent get in back to our car, walking back up! Hats off to them, I would never have made it!

We then picked up the car and powered on to Garachico, a beautiful little town I absolutely fell in love with. We admired the coastal views and crystal clear rock pools with tropical fish swimming along sweetly together. 

We then walked around the town for a while, picking out the historical sights and and the church. Oh and I can't forget he moment I became the mother of dragons! 

Apparently it's Canarian tradition to build things like this from wood for celebrations and then burn them down. So annually they build another crazy project, like this one!

With the sun setting, we sat by the sea-front and dined at a lovely restaurant, Canada de Garachico, where I tried my first ever banana omelette - it is AMAZING! Followed by sautéed potatoes, chorizo, bacon and fried egg. Kamal had veal steak (basically alive) but it was again - delicious, and the staff were very friendly and even helped to give us the confidence to drive back up the mountain in the dark. We'd definitely recommend it!

A quick pic at the seafront and then onwards and upwards - very literally - towards home! 

An hour later, it's midnight and we're back and ready for bed. My god, there'll be a lot of bruises when we wake up tomorrow! Our feet might not even function! 

Day 1 - Tenerife

So it's another trip for Kamal and I, this time to Tenerife.

We've been awake for two days straight now as I write this and getting here wasn't quite as easy as we'd hoped. We had both convinced ourselves that our bus to Gatwick left London Victoria at 3:30, turns out it was 2:30 and we missed it. After begging with the driver we got on the 3:30 bus, pulling into gatwick south at 4:50, leaving us 30mins til our gate closed. We flew through check in and security though and in fifteen mins we'd made it to our gate in record time. Thank god! 

After a 4hr flight on a small aircraft I thought everyone would be in a bad mood but actually, I've never been on a nicer flight, with everyone in the holiday spirit long before landing - well apart from the boy in front who seemed to speak to the flight attendants with one word and one word only - BEER - those dulcet tones must do a lot for our reputation abroad!

We picked up our car from the airport and after a few hair-raising moments centimetres too close to the edge of the narrow Tarmac, we made it to our apartment! And we love it. We have our own balcony, living room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom and access to lots of fun stuff at the resort too.

After dropping our bags we trekked along the seafront jumping across the rocks up and down cliffs and a tiny yappy dog that clearly thought he owned the place. We conquered the final slope to find my first ever black sand beach! I saw a nest of tiny baby pigeons, some creepy black crabs and some adorable little lizards! Like these:

I could steal them!

After burying each other in the black sand...

(of course we only have a white beach towel - brilliant) and happily drowning in the cool and powerful waters, we headed to the roof terrace at the hotel to drink beer and take in the views.

Then it was across town to a recommended local tapas bar where we had potato salad, fried chicken and goats meat (yeh I'm not a fan of that one). Amazingly we had three massive courses and two beers and it cost us only 25€.

Most undesirable experience of the trip so far was the accidental discovery of the public toilets - I won't say much but if you don't like cockroaches, don't even think about it! Needless to say I held it in!

To work off the dinner, we played a couple of games of pool, watched the football and now 27hrs after we should have gone to bed, we are! 

Don't Smoke In Bed

finboroughtheatre.co.uk

The Finborough Theatre is a fair distance from our flat and after mustering the courage to travel into the cold, I had no idea what to expect from its new offering and world premiere of, 'Don't Smoke In Bed'.

uktheatre.net

What awaited us, was a play that represented the very conversations my partner and I have found ourselves discussing. We, like the couple in the piece, are a interracial couple, not that that alone stands to define us or our relationship. What 'Don't Smoke In Bed' managed to do, was to very quickly draw us away from taboo arguments and instead ignite fresh debate both on and off the stage.

Whether it was Sheryl (Clare Latham) worrying about the wealth of black hair products she would never understand (which I 100% identify with), or Richard (Greg Lockett) exclaiming that he cannot control his Jamaican parents nor have to reason on their behalf, Don't Smoke In Bed's 2 hour duration was filled to the brim with a domestic conflict that overflowed into the intimate stalls seats.

finboroughtheatre.co.uk

I'll be first to admit that many of the issues that came up in the piece are things my partner and I have spoken about. Firstly, that society will always categorize mixed race individuals as black, that most will define themselves as black, even if parts of their heritage may not be. Secondly, that there is always going to be a slight clash of culture, regardless of how easy-going and adaptive each family is. They will both have different ways of doing things, different traditions and any relationship must be built on this knowledge and built to either include both traditions, or make new ones.

finboroughtheatre.co.uk

The piece grew in my estimations further in the second half, when writer, Aurin Squire challenges the 'white way of thinking'. Our female character Sheryl argues with her husband Richard about his parents and in her anger asks him what their problem is. 'Why did they not come and see their grandchild?'... 'would it hurt to pick up the phone' ... 'Why don't they like me, are they afraid that you married above your class?' - yeh she said it. It is rightfully crushing to hear him clarify to her that actually, his parents had higher hopes for who he would marry in the US and were in fact, afraid of him marrying down.

White supremacy has no place in this piece hurling a gust of glorious fresh air towards traditional white British theatre audiences.

finboroughtheatre.co.uk

It did have it's moments of cringe-worthy dialogue (& Jamaican accents), filled to the brim with word games and childhood rhymes where I failed to always understand the connotations but something had to ground this piece that constantly punched above our expectations. It throws weight at traditional two-handers. It challenges misconceptions and stereotypes around race and gender. It also asks whether our obsession with acceptance from a hungry, media-driven society is healthy and it asks us to leave all pre-judgements at the door or be faced with our own flaws. I won't say much about the plot, but if you like debate, conversation and a script that holds its own - then definitely make sure to book a ticket on its return!

Aurin Squire is a writer to keep your eye on!

The Privatisation of Channel 4

Television has been the backbone of British culture right from the UK's first public service broadcast in 1932. It’s connected us with others worldwide and now, with privatisation on the agenda, its unique position and reputation is under threat. Channel 4 is at risk of being hijacked.

The biggest challenge is that C4’s remit of taking risks, will now be at risk. Although Lord Burns is preparing proposals to allow C4 to continue providing distinctive and diverse public service programming, I’m not convinced. The challenge in becoming private, is that C4 is less likely to take risks, in order to secure financial gain for private investors. This will only ever come at the expense of new talent, as recruiting reputable programme makers will take precedence over younger, less experienced talent, in the quest for greater financial return. Say goodbye to talent schemes and diversity then – isn’t that what C4’s all about?

centennials - standard.co.uk

Perhaps there’s an opportunity here then. With a £1billion pound sale, C4 could devote funds to the talent schemes that privatisation threatens. The future and quality of Channel 4 programming and television in general, depends upon the social representation of its workforce. We cannot freeze out talent, by jeopardising internships, talent schemes and opportunities, on and off-screen, for those who may otherwise never get the chance.

It seems Channel 4 is in danger of losing its identity, damaging the culture it stands a part of. In the current social climate, where we at the bottom are already feeling neglected, it’s an insult to sell the TV channel we believe in, to the people that we don’t.

It’d be unfair to assume that every avenue will lead to disaster. There’s an opportunity here to invest in new, future-proof digital platforms, encouraging private owners with digital expertise, to apply their own product innovations to C4. C4 could offer more to Millennials and Centennials via second and third screens, subsidising its long-form broadcast content and All4 platform.

My main fear though, is that quality alternative programming will be neglected in favour of cutting costs, that private companies will have editorial judgement over content and the value of programmes and their unique standpoint, will be undermined. Substantial profits will vanish from production budgets into the bonus packets of private owners - it’s the banking crisis coming for culture. Despite small glimmers of hope, my view remains that the only real ‘public value’ that the Dept. of Business stands to gain, I fear, is a financial one.