September 13th 2015
A tad over 28 years ago, at the age of 40, I left England with my then-husband and two sons for more attractive prospects and weather on the island of Tenerife in the Canary Islands. This archipelago was never on my bucket list. I was vaguely aware of it back in 1987, but I had always had a burning desire to, not just travel, but experience “real life” abroad, so when the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t hesitate – it had been a long time coming.
Let me skip the boring years and fast forward to 1981, when I became a mother for the first time, then to 1983 when I became a mother again; and then to 1987 when I emigrated to Tenerife in the Canary Islands. Life picked up after each of those events – a lot. Maybe it was the change in energy which motherhood brought. That was, and remains, the best adventure of all. I have, for the record, the best sons in the world.
So that’s howcome I am now islandmomma.
Life on a sub tropical island is pretty much like life anywhere; highs, lows and everything in between. Many of the dramas of my life have been lived out here, and most importantly it’s the place my sons grew up, the nearest to “home” we will all come. I’ve taken some long trips since the nest emptied, wandered for months on end, the latest being around this archipelago with my old dog and my even older (just) van. Deep down, I know that I was looking for that place which would feel truly more like “home” than this does, but so far, mainly for practical reasons, I’ve always come back. For several reasons this is my base for now.