This was the view of a road that is usually busy with cars heading for the motorway. Lovely and peaceful, and full of the scent of blossom from the yellow tree.
This old man was making the most of the shade and enjoying a morning smoke. He heard my camera and turned round to agree with me that the yellow tree was beautiful. I decided not to ask him why he preferred to gaze at a blank white wall.
I managed to persuade the Other Half to go to Los Cristianos and see what was happening, but there wasn't much to do with Dia de Canarias. We saw a group of people waiting for a coach to take them on some outing or other - one girl had hair as purple as her dress but I wasn't holding my camera at the time.
We had a coffee in the main street, knowing from experience that when we got nearer the sea the prices would shoot up.
After that we ran the gauntlet of waiters trying to tempt us into their establishments. "No thank you," I said to one, "We had coffee ten minutes ago." "Ah, but you are so beautiful that you must come back - I will expect you in ten minutes." Nice to be called beautiful, however insincerely!
The young man in the above photo is an sand-sculptor - with a pail of water, a sharp knife and a brush he puts my upturned-bucket sand-castles to shame.
And we saw a gang of local boys jumping into the sea from the harbour wall - a three- or four-metre drop which didn't faze them in the slightest.
There were as many different ways to enjoy the holiday as there were people, but I only saw one little girl in national costume. Tonight will be a different story - any town or large village will be holding a dance - in traditional costume. I shall have to see if I can track one down.