Tenerife: The Infrastructure of Presence

We landed in San Cristóbal de La Laguna, stepping into a life we have been planning for months but cannot yet fully comprehend. We left Dallas on Saturday afternoon and arrived in Tenerife on Sunday afternoon GMT, spending most of a day in airports, lounges, and aircraft. But the real crossing happened when we walked into our first apartment abroad, dropped our bags, and began the foundational work of making unfamiliar space feel like home.

The first week has been about establishing repeatable routines. We unpacked methodically: clothes hung, shelves filled, photographs affixed to the refrigerator door. We configured our router and VPN, tested our internet connections, and set up our Apple TV. These are not trivial acts. They are the infrastructure of presence, the small decisions that determine whether you inhabit a place or simply pass through it. In our first week, that infrastructure has been simple and concrete: connectivity, groceries, movement, and a routine we can repeat.

La Laguna operates on Spain's tempo, which bears little resemblance to the American cadence we carried here. Breakfast is light, built around coffee and bread. Lunch peaks around 2:30 p.m. and serves as the day's main meal. Dinner begins at 9:00 or later and is typically lighter. Coffee appears in deliberate intervals throughout the day, each serving a specific social and physiological function.

We have not yet adapted to this pattern, and we are not likely to adapt completely, though we will adjust. We still wake hungry for eggs in the morning, and we often eat dinner at home by 7:00 p.m. while the rest of the city is only beginning to gather momentum. Aligning fully with local hours would mean reshaping habits that support our health: eating well before sleep, keeping meal timing consistent, and prioritizing protein. We are learning which rhythms to adopt and which to preserve.

The city itself is relatively small and functional. San Cristóbal de La Laguna is a working university town, not a resort destination. The historic center, a UNESCO World Heritage Site dating to the 15th century, draws visitors, but most of the population consists of students, faculty, and locals who have lived here for generations. English is uncommon. We communicate through careful Spanish supplemented by translation apps, which works well enough for ordering coffee and navigating grocery stores, but less well for nuanced conversation.

We have walked the Casco Histórico several times now, noting the colonial architecture, the narrow streets, and the density of cafés and small shops. The buildings are painted in muted colors, ochre, terracotta, pale yellow, and the layout is compact enough to cross in twenty minutes on foot. Churches anchor the main plazas. Bakeries occupy ground-floor corners. And much of the city slows down or closes for several hours in the afternoon.

Jet lag has been manageable but persistent. The first night we slept until 10:00 a.m., which felt necessary. The second night brought insomnia. By day three we were functional, though still operating at something like 80 percent. The standard guidance suggests roughly one day of adjustment per time zone crossed. We crossed six. We expect to feel normal by the end of the week.

We made a decision on arrival to avoid naps, which has helped. Instead, we spend mornings outdoors, exposing ourselves to natural light, which is one of the strongest levers for circadian adjustment. We walk to cafés, explore the market, and run errands. The afternoons and evenings belong to work, which aligns better with U.S. business hours while we are six hours ahead. Mornings are ours.

Our first grocery trip revealed immediate differences. The supermarkets in the city are small and neighborhood-oriented, stocked with practical staples rather than broad variety. Produce emphasizes seasonal items: root vegetables, citrus, and leafy greens we do not always recognize. Dairy leans toward unfamiliar cheeses and full milk. Bread comes mostly from bakeries. We bought what we could identify using translation apps and made notes about what to research later.

Cooking at home is essential, both for budget and routine. We are learning to live with less: laundry is line-dried, dishes are hand-washed, and the kitchen is tight enough that the stovetop only fits one, maybe two pots at a time. Meal planning has its own learning curve too, until you know what’s reliably stocked, what rotates seasonally, and what you stop looking for entirely. Eating out adds up quickly, and we’re still adjusting to Spain’s dining tempo. Lunch is often multi-course and unhurried. Dinner is lighter, but still leisurely. We are used to efficiency. Here, the pace asks for something closer to patience.

We joined a gym on Tuesday: Laguna Sport Fitness Center, about a twenty minute walk from our current apartment and ten minutes from the next one. The facility is clean and adequately equipped. Most importantly, it provides structure. We have been traveling for five days. We need routines that anchor us and help keep us healthy.

The apartment situation is imperfect but functional. We are splitting February between two locations due to Carnival, which tightens availability and pushes prices upward. The first apartment is quieter and farther from the historic center, but still walkable. The second will be closer to the action. Changing locations mid-month is not ideal, but it is workable.

What has surprised us most is how ordinary this feels. We are not on vacation. We are working, shopping, cooking, exercising, managing errands, and trying to sleep on schedule. The location has changed, but the daily routines have not. This is what slow travel looks like: less spectacle, more dailiness, and the steady recalibration that makes it real.

San Cristóbal de La Laguna was founded in 1496 by Alonso Fernández de Lugo following the Spanish conquest of Tenerife. It became the first unwalled colonial city in the Atlantic, and its grid-based layout, public squares, and civic organization served as a model for Spanish settlements throughout the Americas.

The city's UNESCO designation recognizes this historical significance. La Laguna's urban plan influenced the development of cities across the Atlantic world, establishing a template for colonial expansion that prioritized order, accessibility, and centralized authority. Walking through the historic center is to move through a spatial argument about power and planning, one that shaped the architecture of an entire hemisphere.

The buildings reflect that legacy. Many date to the 16th and 17th centuries, constructed with thick walls, interior courtyards, and wooden balconies overlooking the street. The palette is subdued and earthy. The architecture asserts presence without verticality. Facades rise two or three stories, substantial but not towering, creating a feeling of proportion and restraint.

La Laguna was Tenerife's capital until 1833, when administrative functions shifted to Santa Cruz de Tenerife. The transition left La Laguna to function primarily as a cultural and educational center, which it remains today. The Universidad de La Laguna shapes much of the city's character. Students fill the cafés. Faculty live nearby. The academic calendar influences local commerce.

We have spent time in the main squares, watching how people use the space. Mornings belong to older residents who gather for coffee and conversation. Afternoons bring families and students. Evenings bring couples and groups of friends. The layout invites lingering. Benches face inward. Café tables spill onto sidewalks. The streets are built for daily life.

This is not a city designed for tourists, though tourists visit. It is a city designed for living, which makes it ideal for our purposes. We are not here simply to see La Laguna. We are here to live in it, which requires understanding how its spaces were meant to be used. The colonial layout is not an aesthetic curiosity. It is a functional system for organizing human activity, and we are learning to navigate it.

First Week Costs:

Week 1 total: €595
USD equivalent: approximately $703 at current exchange rates

This is higher than we projected for a typical week, but it includes one-time location setup costs: the gym membership, initial pantry stock, and some household supplies. Future weeks should run closer to budget.

What stands out is how different the calculus is here. Grocery supplies are narrower, our rental kitchen is smaller, and meal plans require constant adjustment. Restaurant meals can be expensive, and portions are designed for leisurely consumption, not efficiency. Four meals out in five days is not sustainable for our budget. Grocery shopping and cooking will need to become daily necessities rather than occasional choices, which will save money and provide structure.

Coffee is worth discussing separately. We are spending roughly €2 per person per café stop, which is inexpensive by U.S. standards, but adds up quickly when the practice becomes frequent, especially when an unexpected pastry joins the order. In Spain, cafés function as social infrastructure, not just caffeine delivery systems. You are paying for the space and the pause as much as the drink. It is an adjustment, but it is also part of living locally.

Transportation has been minimal. La Laguna is walkable, and we have avoided taxis except when necessary (arriving with luggage). The bus and tram system is reliable and inexpensive. We will continue walking whenever possible.

One surprise: we are spending less on miscellaneous items than anticipated. There is less to buy here, and fewer choices in general, which simplifies decision-making and reduces impulse spending. That may change as we settle in, but for now, the simplicity is welcome.

Coffee in Tenerife is deliberate, structured, and social. It follows a cadence that corresponds to the day's natural divisions, and understanding it is essential to understanding Spanish daily life.

Morning: café con leche. The default morning drink. Espresso with hot milk, mild enough to ease into the day, often paired with toast.

Mid-morning: cortado. The "second coffee." Smaller, stronger, and often taken standing at the bar.

After lunch: solo or cortado. Coffee accompanies sobremesa, the lingering conversation after the meal.

Afternoon: merienda coffee. A late-afternoon pause that bridges lunch and the late dinner.

Tenerife's wildcard: barraquito. A layered coffee often made with espresso, condensed milk, steamed milk, and sometimes liqueur. We have not tried it yet, but we will.

What matters is the multiplicity. Coffee is not a single morning event. It is a series of small checkpoints: waking, socializing, digesting, bridging. The ritual matters as much as the caffeine.

San Cristóbal de La Laguna, Tenerife

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This weekend we plan to leave La Laguna for the first time and explore the natural side of Tenerife. Options include Teide National Park or Anaga Rural Park.

In the coming weeks, we will move to our second apartment, closer to the historic center. Carnival season is underway in Santa Cruz, with major public events building through mid-February, including the Cabalgata Anunciadora (Opening Parade) on February 13 and the Coso Apoteosis (Grand Parade) on February 17, followed by the symbolic close with the Entierro de la Sardina (Burial of the Sardine) on February 18.

The official theme for 2026 is "Ritmos Latinos” (Latin Rhythms).

We plan to visit Santa Cruz for one of the big public celebrations and pay attention to how that energy reaches La Laguna during the same period.

The first week abroad has felt like both an adventure and a relocation, which is precisely what it is. We are not typical tourists. We are residents, at least for now, and residency requires different skills than sightseeing. It requires patience, routine, and a willingness to accept some discomfort without rushing to resolve it.

We are grateful to be here, though "grateful" may not be the right word. Perhaps "aware" is better. We are aware of the privilege this requires, the preparation it demanded, and the uncertainty it still holds. We are aware that this is difficult and ordinary at the same time. We are aware that living local in a global world means accepting that the world will not bend to our preferences.

The goal is to live inside a place, respectfully and attentively, with enough time to let it change us.

So far, our landing has been a success. Not because everything feels easy, but because we are doing the work of settling in. We are learning the streets, the food, the culture, and the daily rhythms. We are building a life here for February.

Until next week,
S&S

Some Great Place
Living local in a global world