I'm working on a blog post about traveling with a drone, but for now here's a post I wrote elsewhere about the time that I went to Tenerife for a wedding. It's more of a photo essay than list of recommendations.
Kevin and Gemma were getting married, so 50 of us upped our collective sticks and moved to Tenerife for a week. Some stayed longer than others, and Shay and I spent five days slowly getting angry at the weather. We were angry because it was better than anything we'd experience at home, but also because it was hurting us. As Irish males we are both very susceptible to UV rays (it's genetic), and so almost immediately got sunburnt.
We arrived on Wednesday, and the marriage wasn't until Saturday, so we had some time to kill. From my extensive geographical study in school and also a bit of Googling I learned that Tenerife, one of the Canary Islands, is volcanic and has a still-active volcano (albeit one that hasn't erupted in over 100 years). To reach the summit of Mount Teide, you must apply for a permit from the government, often weeks in advance. As we hadn't really prepared beyond booking our flights and an Airbnb, we had not done this. We decided that a cable car journey near the summit would have to suffice. This was immediately put on the list of 'things to do' (a list which remained one item long) and on Thursday, Shay and I bundled into our little blue rental Polo and started on the hour-long journey to get to the volcano, near the centre of the island.
Of course, we didn't plan on 90km winds shutting down all hiking and cable cars on the island, so when we arrived we hung around at a café with the worst coffee I've ever drunk, and once it became apparent that the cable car would not be running, gave up on getting up the mountain at all and started aimlessly hiking into the national park.
After we failed to do the thing that we were most excited about (other than the wedding, of course), we decided to take a drive to the small village of Masca, which a small amount of research told us would be a stunning yet terrifying drive. It did not disappoint.
The one and a half car wide road was built into the side of a cliff face, and tour busses sped up and down, forcing us to either hug the cliff face or teeter precariously on the edge. Shay had to take several breaks, pulling off the road at well placed rest stops so that he could de-stress before taking on the next section. Once we got to Masca itself, it all became worth it. Masca is a tiny little town, centred around a stage. There are fantastic views in all directions, most of which threaten to kill you.