Ten-Bel used to be the ultimate destination for every Tenerife resident back in the 70s and 80s. It used to shine as the prime tourist attraction in the Canary Islands. However, today it has sadly become known as the Tenerife Chernobyl due to its neglected state. This neglect stems from prolonged administrative hindrance, with the promise that the situation will eventually change.
Ten-Bel, a name formed from the blend of Tenerife and Belgium, stood in stark contrast to Puerto de la Cruz, the first tourist city on the Island, and bore little resemblance to the national destinations that were burgeoning across the Spanish Mediterranean at that time, characterized by vast concrete structures catering to the initial waves of mass tourism from Central Europe.
Countless Tenerife residents cherished their lifetime vacations within its apartment complexes: Carabela, Eureka, Geminis, Primavera, Drago, Frontera, Alborada, Bellavista, and Maravilla, where the gatherings and games of cinquillo and Parcheesi stretched into the night on the poolside loungers, amidst the scents of coconut and lemon sun oils.
Post-dinner, it was time for the entertainment on small stages adjacent to the pools, where the entertainers (the same ones who organized ping-pong, water polo, and petanque tournaments during the day) showcased their performing prowess. A small stage, a curtain, and a handful of colored spotlights sufficed to host the flamenco group, the designated singer, the illusionist (Jerarmas was notable at that time), or the tourist who impersonated Frank Sinatra, flaunting their burgeoning sun-kissed tan, while the waiters tirelessly served sangrias and beers to the audience.
There, amidst the tunes of songs like “My Way,” “Can’t Take My Eyes off You,” or “Cabaret,” fleeting summer romances blossomed following the prerequisite flirtations in the pool. Evenings culminated at El Chaparral or Krystal nightclubs, the latter situated in the Marino apartments, where the constant clacking of heels during the patrons’ arrivals and departures made it challenging for guests to doze off on Saturday nights.
Decades of inaction within this private urbanization have pushed the Eden of the 70s and 80s to the brink of ruin. After years immersed in an unstoppable deterioration, evident in the abandoned state of a considerable portion of its public spaces, various initiatives have sporadically surfaced, attempting to revive Ten-Bel’s glorious days. Nonetheless, all such endeavors have fallen on deaf ears.
