Point the light towards noon. On the beach of Los Cristianos the green flag flies: there is no danger in sight. The sun shines –but not unrepentantly–; the thermometer marks a placid 25 degrees and a light breeze caresses the bay. Gone are the restrictions of the covid and a pilgrim human tide with an accelerated pace along the Juan Alfonso Batista coastal promenade – the majority devoid of the uncomfortable mask –, in search of a hole near the shore. Hard task.
A good number of devotees of the sun and the beach already rest on the fine golden sand; stretched out in their hammocks, almost motionless –bodies rosy and well covered under umbrellas–, enjoying a hot and mild weekend that coincides, at least for the natives, with the long-awaited Easter holidays.
The clean tolling of a bell announces twelve o’clock. It was in 1924 when the chapel was built, later demolished, to build, back in 1987, a main church in honor of Nuestra Señora del Carmen, the patron saint, one of the still living vestiges that speak of the seafaring past of the place. Around him, the oldest, accommodated in the shade and in respectful silence, become witnesses of such a singular invasion. Centuries before, as recorded in the chronicles, the beach had already been the target of attacks by Barbary and English pirates, as is the case now.
The forecasts set the occupancy level in the accommodation establishments in the south of the island at more than 85%, a mark that clears the dark times of the crisis and, in addition, anticipates what is to come for the summer.
The British are still in the majority, but French, Italian… and Spanish accents are the most disturbing. What does sound among the youngest is the coincidence of two musical shows this weekend: the ElRow planetarium ride, held this Friday at the Golf Costa Adeje facilities, and the I Love Music: Planet Love Festival, in Siam Park , which set the pace last night, turning electronic music into the resuscitator of major post-pandemic events and also contributing to fueling the flow of hotel and apartment reservations. And it is that no less than 777 days have passed since the Piñata Saturday of the Santa Cruz Carnival, that February 29, 2019 that marked the end of the massive celebrations, the date on which the infamous March 14 happened with the declaration of the State of alarm by the Government and total confinement.
In the background, looking towards the horizon line, the breakwater of the pier is cut out, where the ferries to the islands of La Gomera and La Palma operate, the perfect breakwater, and to its side, the image of a Viking ship that remains docked, waiting the arrival of the passenger who will enroll in a festive but bloodless route, sailing along the coastline between tidal waves of alcohol and decibels.
The oscillation is another close to the mainland: the canoeists try to keep the course based on synchronized strokes; dinghy sailing fans gybe in a small field of buoys; the little ones amuse themselves building ephemeral sand castles until, exhausted by so much collapse, they decide to emulate their idols by kicking a ball, thus calling the attention of their nostalgic parents who then go on to capitalize on the dream of soccer or throw themselves into revive with a float a time that will no longer return; those who apply themselves to making volleyball-tennis a mixed competition or those who walk the shore in a mechanical coming and going. There are more sedentary ones –the common one–, who are distracted in their own way. Thus, those groups of ladies concentrated in animated talks, without losing detail; others who are content to spread out a towel and wait for the passage of time; those who are inclined to enjoy sitting in a restaurant on the avenue or those who prefer to sit and enjoy reading.
And, precisely reading, the oldest known reference to this place dates back to 1511, when it appears as the port “of Adeje called Los Cristianos”. The oral tradition hypothesizes about the origin of this name the legend of the loose tongues or severed tongues. In this sense, Bethencourt Alfonso recounts the arrival at the coast of two ships that precipitated “a crowd of people with shoves and lashes”, they moved away and on the shore were left “over two hundred of these strange, starving guests (…) and horribly mutilated”, says the historian. And he affirms that they spoke “in an unintelligible language, as if gibberish, with two rosaries, counting the beads as if they were praying; they kissed the ground, knelt with open arms demanding mercy and shouted at the Guanches; Christian, Christian, while pointing to their persons to signify that they were.
From the first stable and permanent settlement dated 1860, which Pedro de Olavide described as “a fishing village in Arona, with three one-story houses, a two-story house and a hut”, until Teófilo Bello managed to bring in 1914 the water from Vilaflor and the main road from the South reaches Los Cristianos in 1946, the landscape has been changing.
However, the most relevant milestone took place in 1956, when a decisive character for the future of the town and the Island landed in Los Cristianos: the Swedish journalist and veterinarian Bengt Rylander. Always in his wheelchair, he knew such an improvement that he coined the maxim that the sun can heal. His compatriots did not hesitate, becoming the first mass tourists, to the point that in 1965 the Ramón y Cajal-Vintersol Institute (which means winter hospital) was created, a center specializing in the treatment of bone and muscle diseases. . In 1967, the first tour operator from the South, Kurt Hetzel Reisen, began to operate in Los Cristianos, bringing tourists from Stuttgart, later they would come from England, peninsulars… and to this day, without ceasing that devotion to the sun and the beach.
