The Mercian Bridge group has been bringing Bridge players to Spring Hoteles since 2002.  On this occassion, they have chosen our Spring Arona Gran Hotel for their 4 weeks stay starting 6th January. Mercian Travel is a British Travel Agency offering a wide range of holidays and bespoke tours for Bridge and Bowling players to destinations around the globe. Employing highly qualified Bridge and Bowling Directors, they ensure high standard and quality holidays at all times. Amongst their top destinations are Spain, Turkey and the Canaries with many  clients returning year after year.

During the daytime, the group does the usual holiday-making activities, such as walking, shopping or just relaxing and  sunbathing by the swimming pool. After dinner, in the evening, the group meets every day to play Bridge in the Sala Arafo from 20.00 until 23.30. And should it rain, they would have an additional session from 15.00 to 17.00.

Mercian Travel also organises a welcome drink with an introductory meeting, as well as a farewell cocktail.

For the first two weeks of their stay in our Spring Arona Gran Hotel the goups is caringly looked after by Mr Malcolm Carey and his charming wife Barbara. 

Many of the Bridge players have returned year after year and are well known by our staff. We wish them a happy stay with us, and look forward to welcome them with open arm in ther next visit planned for next year. 

Should you want to see more photographs of this group, please click here.

We had quite an exciting Christmas at Spring Hoteles. A month full of events al celebrations. Do you want to know about them???

The official countdown to Christmas started on the 1st December……..The Housekeeping teams of  our three hotels were working non stop for a week to have all the decoracions ready for the 8th December. In the photograph we have the Housekeeper of Spring Hotel Vulcano putting up the Christmas tree.

There was so much work, that we even had our guests decoating, as they also put up the Christmas tree by the pool area.

And if you remember our last post, where we showed you the Exhibition: Tenerife, Live History at the Spring Arona Gran Hotel.  The official opening took place a week before Christmas. There was a cocktail party with live music and entertainment.

And every year, our Nativity Scene by the cascade at Spring Hotel Vulcano, keeps growing, bigger and better. Don’t you just feel you are in Bethlehem?

And we absolutely love receiving your Christmas Cards, from all over Europe. We had more than 75 this year  and we even had a little game going on in our Facebook Page, can you find the Christmas card you sent us?…. and did you actually find it?

And what would Christmas be, without Christmas carols. Some of our nights we were entertained and delighted by the “Tuxedo Knights” who sang all the old favourites and more beside.

All the Management team at Spring Hotel Bitacora were wishing you all a Very Merry Christmas!!

And at the pool bar of Spring Hotel Vulcano there was a tasting of a special Christmas cocktail and some Traditional Spanish sweets.

And talking about sweets, these  are a few examples of the dessert table at the Christmas Dinner.

And finally a view of our salad table  just before the restaurant opened for the last time in 2011. Just look at that cascade of prawns at the back!!!

We hope you have enjoyed these selection of photos from the last month that we have been uploading to our Facebook page. We take this oppportunity to wish you all the best for the New Year , and hope to see you again soon.

Spring Hotel Bitácora (*) and Vulcano are one of the Free Wifi Mundo Tenerife Hotspots in Tenerife. You will have access to free WiFi throughout both Hotels, in the rooms and in the swimming pool area. Also you can also roam and connect at different free WiFi access points available in Playa de las Américas and Costa Adeje.

Free wifi is available at slow speed (slightly over dial up), and is sufficient to check your emails, or update your Facebook page. However, it will not be fast enough for you to watch videos or use more bandwidth intensive services. For that, you have the option to upgrade to high speed Premium Access.

Premium access codes can be purchased at reception or online in the WiFi Mundo system.

For more information on how to connect, please click here.

(*) Spring Hotel Bitacora on trial, only available in 90% of the hotel.

Another story by Mr. Stphen Reid…. a great way to start the week!!

Having spent a large number of years going backwards and forwards to Las Americas in Tenerife with the children, they had got to know that part quite well. However now they were at the quieter far end of Los Christianos it was either a long walk to get along the coast past Las Americas, or taking a taxi which involved a high speed car chase without a pursuit vehicle, going half way up a mountain, along the dual carriageway and back down into Las Americas with feet on the car dash board in the ‘crash position’ for protection from the mad taxi drivers. As they say ‘half way around the world for a short cut’, in addition to a taxi fee of € 5.

As they sat in the air conditioned coolness of the ‘Arona’ reception watching the world go by outside in the bright sunshine, they noticed two large Lyrca clad ladies parking their racing bicycles opposite the hotel. He idly thought they were the type of bicycle which, when you manage to climb on, your legs are clamped onto the pedals and by the time you have reached down for the dropped handlebars your rear end is pointing skyward and you can see nothing except that part of the road your head is going to hit when you come off. Perhaps they were designed for people with a desire to commit suicide but did not want to see the ‘grim reaper’ approaching.

They wore crash helmets with long slots cut out; he presumed air holes for cooling purposes; tight Lycra tops, to restrain their womanly bits; skintight long short trousers with well padded gussets, though their gussets seemed well padded already. These trousers stopped halfway down their bulging thighs exposing closely shaved shins lathered in oil, he presumed to reduce wind resistance. He watched them struggle to disengage themselves from their bicycles, which now seemed to be permanently bolted to their feet. He found this performance quite amusing in a bored way but it became hysterical when he saw them crossing the road.

As they hobbled and limped across the street hand in hand, doubled over in obvious pain and with gloves with no fingers clutching their, no doubt frayed nether regions, he made a mental note that anything requiring such protective clothing and producing such a painful result should be avoided all times. He ideally wondered why they hauled all this equipment thousands of miles across the world to punish themselves with arduous pumping of legs and gasping lungs to struggle up not inconsequential mountains. By the time they got home they must be in a terrible state and in need of a restful holiday and a lot of painkillers.

It was then that it struck him. The simple solution to their exploration problem. Bicycles!! Of course, it was so simple.

In his enthusiasm he rushed up to the lovely woman in the ‘Arona’ reception who, remembering her last mad discussion with him about the ‘undead’, when in fact he was talking about his sun bed, made her very wary about agreeing to anything too soon with him.

Taking a step back away from the broad reception counter as an act of self defense, she listened very carefully and decided that he wanted to hire bicycles for himself and his poor innocent wife. However when she looked down at his big flat feet, skinny little spindly legs and large beer belly, she had great trouble suppressing a good laugh. She remembered her training and never said a word. She just smiled and asked him how many bicycles he required and when.

The next day a big strong strapping Scandinavian chap gave them two basic bicycles with a simple big lever to work the four gears. His innocent wife, after being told that the handlebars did not need adjusting just turned the right way round, was now able to get her feet on the pedals without banging her knees, was all the instruction they were going to take. I mean, they had been riding bicycles since they were five years of age, how hard could it be?

He was glad he found the brake lever so handily; though at the time he thought for a brake it had a very small little handle. He turned facing the gentle slope from the hotel allowing him to slowly free wheel down the hill towards the promenade entrance. However when he turned left and went down the side of the hotel, the path got quite steep. In fact it could be described as nearly a precipice. Now he knew why the hotel had installed a lift. As he screamed past the pool sun patio some friends he had made at the hotel leaned over the rail and cheering, waved gaily to him and wished them luck.

He waved back nonchalantly, but now found the acceleration down towards the sea, whilst very exhilarating, decidedly uncomfortable. Earlier than he anticipated he arrived quite suddenly at the little bench overlooking the sea. He decided that he had spent long enough examining in minute detail the bench at the sea wall. He did feel that lying across the little bench with his noble bicycle on top of him was probably preferable to having its weight drag him to the bottom of the harbour. It was only when he looked closely at the handlebars he realised that the lever he was frantically pulling to stop the rotten machine was in fact the gear change and made not the slightest difference to the speed of his headlong charge down the hill towards the sea.

He extracted himself out of his tangle of arms, legs and parts of bicycle and bending over to retrieve the rest of his bits, he unwillingly now found himself sprawled across the small sea wall with what appeared to be another bicycle’s front wheel lodged snugly between his buttocks as if parked. His indignity was further increased by the peels of merry laughter emitting from his beloved who had experienced the same problem as himself, but had fortunately found a novel way of not only stopping, her wretched machine, but parking it as well.

They gathered up their limbs and finding no broken bones, just minor scrapes and scratches gave the now cheering mob watching from the hotel a fond wave farewell and pedaled off along the front for the next adventure despite the state they were now in, and they had not even started their journey yet.

It did not take them long to realise that they were going to have great difficulty in managing any distance at all by this method. The difficulty was that every few yards they passed little, well appointed restaurants, which the longer they pedaled and the hotter they got all began to look more and more attractive and inviting.

They stopped in the square opposite the harbour and heard family laughter coming from behind a statue of an unhappy woman looking out to sea and pointing. Behind her was a dark door opening and small window of a little house with two or three tables outside shaded by some trees. On closer examination it turned out to be a small Spanish restaurant serving mainly fresh local fish bought from the harbour market that morning. Some local people had just sat down and were enjoying a very animated conversation with the cheerful owner.

They decided they could not progress any further as they had already covered what felt like at least fifty kilometers since breakfast, and it was now nearly lunchtime or at least should be. They parked their bicycles and took the last table in the shade of a tree with a sigh of relief.

The meal was served at a sensible pace and to a high standard. The chef/ owner came out to talk to his customers and noticed their bicycles.

“Have you come far?” he politely asked.

“Yes! A very long way it seems to have taken us hours, but it was worth it to enjoy your chilled wine and beautiful food” they replied smiling contentedly.

“How far have you come” was the next question.

Pointing proudly at the ‘Arona Gran’ beside the bay they said “From way over there”

“It’s only a few hundred metres away?” said the chef incredulously “But I suppose I should be grateful to get you out of their restaurants. In fact I should be flattered that you made such a great effort to get here, in spite of all the ‘Arona Gran’s’ temptations”.

 They were woken the next morning by the gentle mournful moan of the first ferry for La Gomera, calling the last straggling early morning passengers to board. He pulled open the sliding door and walked out onto the balcony and watched idly as frantic insecure guests, going out for the day, surreptitiously scuttled about like secretive beach crabs, towels clutched tightly to their bosoms, to spread their fresh towels over the sun beds like the drying department of a Chinese laundry. When they returned that afternoon they could just collect their pristine towels from the sun beds, which they never used, and exchange them for lovely freshly laundered ones to do the same thing the next day. He thought they did this to give themselves a sense of belonging.

Assured that everything was proceeding as normal, they floated down quietly in the lift to be deposited in what he now called the ‘waterfall’ foyer. As they entered the dining room there was a table set out with champagne and orange juice for anyone who might want a “Bucks Fizz” or even just a simple glass of sparkling wine. Compliments of the Arona Gran. They always took a diversion around the show cooking area, as it was more fun than looking at a menu. There the chefs were doing fried or scrambled eggs or preparing omelets or crepes to guest’s own specifications, which was a spectacle in dexterity itself.

They now had breakfast down to a fine art. He and his wife had their own jobs. She got orange juice and tea; he made toast and brought the butter and marmalade or honey, then off for the full buffet breakfast. He knew that after a few days the novelty would wear off and he would eat more sensibly but at the moment he did not feel like being sensible.

They probably hit the pool at about 10 am. Whilst his wife went for the paper he selected a couple of sun beds, near the bar of course, just in case of an emergency thirst breaking out unexpectedly in the heat. One cannot be too careful in tropical climes. At least that was what he told his wife but for some reason she did not think that many people, other then him, broke out in emergency thirsts, but said nothing and just handed him the paper.

The next hour was bliss for both of them. She went for a walk around the shops and explored Los Cristianos and he read the paper. Sure enough in the gentle heat and sunshine he felt an emergency thirst approaching which he knew would have to be dealt with immediately.

He noticed that part of the pool bar was closed and fenced off with occasional banging and crashing coming from within. The hotel was re furbishing the bar and had screened part of it off. This was a slight inconvenience to the staff but not the guests. After all it was the staff who had to walk a little bit further and nobody else.

At this point they heard a strong Somerset accented voice calling out the plaintiff cry:

“Cava Juice. Cool Cava Juice”

They looked around and there they spotted a waitress carrying a huge silver tray full of glasses filled with something or other, walking around the pool calling out “Cava Juice. Cool Cava Juice” in a most melodious manner. A bit like a London street trader from ‘My Fair Lady’ based in Yeovil, Somerset.

Well! They had never heard of “Cava Juice” before and supposed that the locals had tamed and domesticated wild Cava’s, only found in Tenerife, and probably kept them in a dark cave somewhere near mount Teide at a cool 12,000 feet. When the moon was full they probably sneaked in when the Cava’s were asleep and gently milked them of all their juice. They then took it to the factory and bottled it bringing it to the hotel to be chilled and then served cold as “Cava Juice” to the guests as compensation for the pool bar having work done to it.

It was either that or they were offering a choice of sparking Cava wine or fresh juice to everyone for the inconvenience. However it took 3 days and cunning investigative techniques to discover why the waitress spoke with a broad Somerset accent even though she was from Madrid.

Apparently she had been trained as a waitress in a little hotel in a place called Martock, in deepest Somerset, were she had also learnt English. Her ‘Cava Juice’ as a result was very well received.

Contented they lay back on their sun beds idly dreaming of their next treat when a large man wearing a towering chef’s hat insisted they come with him and make the “Paella with the fist”. Recognising him from the “show cooking” the previous day they decided it would be churlish not to be taught how to make the “Paella with the fist” at the little pool restaurant.

The offer of a glass of good Rioja while they watched help to motivate them it must be admitted. They stood with about 4 or 5 other jovial people and helped to make “The Paella with the fist” in a huge frying pan; sloshing in this and that and lots of other stuff and giving it all a vigorous stir. The compulsory tasting was actually very nice and they were surprised how a group of sun burnt wine drinking people could have produced something so nice. Once finished they were dismissed by the jovial chef and they had time to go for a quick swim before hunger pangs broke out.

Well!! Talk about chutzpa? As they entered the restaurant beside the pool for lunch, there laid out in all its glory, with white table clothes, shining cutlery and the entire trimmings was “The Dish of the Day” flamboyantly written out on its own blackboard with a very self satisfied chef in a tall hat standing behind it.

“Guests’ Fist Paella. Made with love”

€10

It went very well with the ‘Cava Juice’.

Here is the second installment of the series written by Mr. Stephen “Storyteller” Reid, with the Spring Arona Gran Hotel  as the background. We hope you enjoy reading it….

They sat on the balcony, drained of all humanity by the nightmare journey, for the first few minutes and sipped their champagne kindly given by reception as a ‘Welcome drink’, and welcome it certainly was. The trauma of the journey was unbelievable. Now at long last the endurance travel marathon was over, it was behind them and they just sat quietly together in the late afternoon sun enjoying the view and the tranquility created by the Arona Gran Hotel. Without speaking, they just sat and communicated their contentment quietly as they looked over the little harbour of Los Cristianos in Tenerife.

They smiled knowingly at each other and without a word being spoken they both ran into the room and started to tear their clothes off. It was like a race to see who could get all their clothes off first. His wife had gone to great trouble to make sure she got her décor for the holiday ‘just right’, but he did not really care. He knew as soon as things stared to get really hot all thoughts of style would be discarded and simply discarded, treated as an encumbrance. However for the sake of peace and quiet he told her she looked lovely and everything seemed to match beautifully, but to take it off before they dived into the pool. He could see no place at the moment for a see through ‘wrap’ no matter how stylish.

They tried very had to walk slowly and quietly, with some decorum, from the lift across the lobby area and past the waterfall without looking in a rush. The glass doors hissed open and they walked out to the pool area. It was very warm and the tiles were hot under their feet forcing them to walk faster and faster like long distance Olympic runners with dislocated hips. The place had plenty of sun beds and they tossed their stuff onto the nearest bed and hand in hand slowly walked down into the pool. As the cool water enveloped them in its embrace they felt the trouble and stresses of the last 8 hours of travelling very quickly disappear. “AHHH!! Bliss” was all they could whisper.

After the pool experience, whilst they dripped off to dry out they quietly sat on some cane chairs under a huge umbrella, when a very formally dressed waiter came up and offered them a drink. It was then he suddenly realised that they had no money with them. He would have to drip all the way back to the room leaving a snail like trail of water right across the hotel.

“I know! Charge it to the room” he thought.

The waiter simply asked for his little credit card type room key, which he swiped through a hand held card reader and he was away with the order.

No query, no proof of identity, no hassle or sense of guilt? Nothing!

“The waiter knows and likes what he does,” he thought. “He knows what he is doing and is good at it. Now why should that come as a surprise?” He thought. 

The waiter returned a few minutes later with their drinks order and got him to sign a little chitty.

Before the waiter returned to his quest for thirsty clients he asked him

“Can I charge anything to my room as easily as that?” he asked.

“Of course Sir. All you need is your card. You do not need to carry money with you at the Arona Gran Sir. We also prefer you to use the card. It makes things so much simpler“

That was the rock they would perish on he was sure. The hotel was making it so painless and simple to indulge themselves but then, that is what they were there to do.

They dawdled over their drinks and reluctantly returned to their room to unpack shower and dress for dinner. He was glad that the hotel did something as old fashioned as having a dress code for the dining room. He knew his wife and a number of other women enjoyed ‘glaming up’ for the evening but would not admit it. He also enjoyed rolling up to the bar and having a beer with the other men while they waited for their partners to “Make their Entrance”. It was all part of the fun.

The lift left them quietly beside the little piano bar with its comfy settees and views over the pool and harbour. They took a couple of seats overlooking the waterfall when a tall dark haired waitress came up with a silver tray containing a little ceramic bowl of nuts and a small candle for the table. They ordered two drinks and listened to the silly chat and banter of the pianist as he teased a couple of well dressed women about some musical they had all seen in London. The pianist started to play his own version of romantic melodies on the big black shiny grand piano and they both let out a relaxed sigh. Nothing but a pleasant dinner to look forward that evening in beautiful surroundings, watching the sunset over Los Cristianos and La Gomera. Lifting their glasses it was definitely time for

“Cheers! The Arona Gran”

To read the first part: Love at first sight , please click here

We thought we’d share with you a story sent by one of our loyal customers Mr. Stephen “Storyteller” Reid. This is the first one of a series of four hilarious stories of a holidaymaker, with the Arona Gran Hotel as the background. We hope you like it as much as we have done…

This was the first time since their honeymoon that they were going on a well deserved summer holiday on their own. Whilst he loved kids he preferred them deep fat fried with chips, tomato ketchup and with a salad on the side now that his own had fled the nest.

At first he begrudged spending so much money on a hotel for half board. A many starred hotel at that? The place came recommended as suitable for people at a certain ‘stage’ of life so he reluctantly agreed. Mental note: It better be good. With the car packed the night before they just had to dress and drive the hour to the airport.

It started with the valet car parking, despite taking nearly £100 off him for their “superior Service”, they had never heard of him and it was only by losing his temper and waving his receipt in the snotty little man’s face that they were begrudgingly deposited at the entrance to departures entering BAA’s idea of airport heaven; holiday check in.

The noise hit them like a solid object. In the queue they were surrounded by hundreds of bad tempered people, dressed as if bound immediately for the beach with sun hats and sun glasses, arguing with fractious children, whilst surreptitiously jamming their suitcases tightly to their neighbours in case someone would barge in and queue jump.

The pleasure of travelling without children was spoiled by the hysterical screaming of seemingly orphaned, unwashed, homeless urchins with no concerned parents, which together with a nervous man, constantly jingling his car keys and loose change in the deep pockets of his baggy shorts, was driving him to distraction. His highly tattooed foul mouthed partner, did not help by blowing large bubbles of chewing gum and screaming obscenities at her mad feral children, tearing through everybody’s legs as if it was their human right.

Discovering that he was in the wrong queue and had to start all over again did not help his temper. They joined the tail end of the now huge queue and eventually it was their turn. The head of a bored half slept uniformed teenager asked him

“Have you packed your bag yourself?” Of course he had not packed the bag himself, if he tried that his wife would kill him.

“Could anyone have put anything into your suitcase without your knowledge?”

Of course they have. God knows what she has put into his case this time. He just smiled and said no in all the right places.

He took his wife’s hand and they both headed off to the next airport pleasure ahead. Security. What a joy to look forward to. Like everyone else he understood the need for it but did the sweaty people trained to do it have to be so unpleasant and dictatorial. They joined the endless shuffling queue and inched forward like manacled prisoners condemned to a roadwork squad. Eventually they came to try and get past the security people of indeterminate sex with large stern faces, bulging bosoms, biceps and buttocks waiting for them like something out of Roald Dahl horror story.

This time he was taking no chances. Into the plastic tray went his best leather sandals, belt, posh watch, wallet, car and house keys, loose change, glasses, passport and tickets. He carefully folded his jacket and put it on top. His beloved was now through and glaring at him in the way only bad tempered wives can.

Taking a deep breath he sent his plastic box with all his worldly possessions into the cavernous machine. At their signal he launched himself through the metal detector towards the arms of the security person. Unfortunately someone had spilt some foul smelling liquid onto the floor, which, combined with the residue left by sticky damp feet, now made the surface highly lubricated. Falling into the arms of the asexual security type person certainly saved him form a nasty fall, but it did not save him from personal interrogation by a pimply schoolboy type person in a little room as a result. He just sat and listened as his wife was warned that her behavior of banging on the door and demanding the return of her husband was not conducive to security. She only stopped when they threatened to arrest her.

After forty minutes of interrogation they were both sent on their way no doubt the staff feeling that they had been sufficiently punished and they had justified their salaries. They managed to get two seats just vacated by a couple of foot ball thugs who seemed to have come straight off the football pitch in everything except studs on their trainers. At least they would know each others names as they were tattooed on the back of their heads.

They both sat numb from the experience and thought things could only get better. Their flight to Tenerife was called and his wife, in her now creased and grubby best cream slacks and matching top discovered, that she had sat in something very sticky with an old boarding card buried in which clicked like a faulty false him every time she took a step. They were by now past caring.

Eventually they boarded sitting with their knees jammed up so high on the seat in front that their toes barely touched the floor. This did not really matter; as the seats were so tight they could not fold down their table anyway to put anything on it. He was convinced the airline never changed the in-flight meals. as nobody, except mythical dwarfs and children, could get the tables down so they just kept recycling them with each flight.

The state of everyone coming off the aircraft could not be believed; pushing and shoving to queue up at passport control, pushing and shoving to get to the front of the baggage carousel to watch the aimless meanderings of the bags on the carousel, and the scrum to find the coach miles away in the hot sweaty car park was surely more than humanity could endure.

They staggered out into the natural light after claiming their bags to see a cool looking, smartly dressed man holding a card up with their name and the two magical words “Arona Gran” on it.

“Of course, I had forgotten the Arona Gran would send a car for us!”

It was their “Eureka” moment. The man smiled reached out and their bags discreetly disappeared and they gratefully followed him to a large black, and above all, quiet and cool limousine.

Within fifteen minutes they pulled up outside, what can only be described as an architecturally non descript hotel with a glass front right on the road. No sweeping gravel driveway, palm trees, exotic flowers just a very business like building.

The car doors opened and the hot air of Tenerife swept in. The driver now glided through the glass doors carrying their suitcases and by the time they had extracted themselves from the cool limousine a young uniformed bell boy was standing at a small reception with their cases on a trolley and their jackets on hangers swinging together quite happily. They staggered up to reception with very dry throats and parched tongues. He could hardly even remember their name they felt so traumatized. A gentle tap on the shoulder made him turn and there was a cool looking uniformed woman with a glorious happy smile, offering them a glass of cold wet champagne

“This woman actually likes her job” he thought as he lifted the cold glass to his lips. He raised his eyes and nearly fell over. Before him was two of the biggest glass chandeliers he had ever seen. They must have been fifty feet in length hanging from a ceiling seemingly forever high. The walls had cascading tiers of exotic greener hanging down from open corridors, which made the place feel cool. The floors were a white and earthy coloured polished marble and highly polished brass rails lined staircase. This eased itself down past a beautifully furnished open lobby and bar, towards an twenty foot high internal waterfall overlooked by another intimate little bar and music area with a grand piano. This drew the eye to the bright light coming in from the pool and private patio area outside. His “Gob was truly Smacked” and he could not understand how he managed to stagger in here and not see this. A voice beside made him tear his eyes away from what was a true spectacle.

“¡Buenas tardes! Señores, ¿Como se llaman?”

He told the receptionist their name in a state of shock. The tall man smiled and took their passports to copy, giving them a little card to fill in.

As he returned he called to the bell boy,

“ Habitacin n´´umero tres, cuatro, siete.”

With that he wished them a happy stay and told them to follow the bellboy. They took their champagne and quietly followed him to the lift ,which silently deposited them on the third floor lobby with armchairs and settees and a little table with some books on it. They opened the door to their room to discover it was nearly in total darkness.

“More bloody rows” he thought as he groped his way through the gloomy room looking for a light switch.

“This will have to be changed. I paid for a sea and harbour view and we are staggering about here in darkness.”

The bellboy pushed past and pulled open the curtains.

The bright light poured into the room exposing a clear cloudless blue sky. They walked towards to window and pushing open the sliding doors walked out onto the balcony. Before them laid out like toy town was the intimate harbour of Los Christianos with a busy ferry discharging it cars. Just across the little harbour were cruisers and yachts chaffing at their moorings. A lovely beach full of colourful umbrellas and sun beds were set out neatly overlooked by little restaurants and a long level pedestrian walk full of people dressed I bright holiday clothes and laughing.

Below them the clear, blue, cool looking pools, snaked around the complex with the hotels little casual restaurant and bar overlooking the sea, all in bright sunshine.

The one thing they did notice was the lack of noise. No background music, no screaming kids or drunken footballers. The hotel had created a relaxed happy atmosphere effortlessly without using any modern ‘in your face’ or trendy fads. It was the epitome of civilised peace and quiet, with attentive waiters attending their customers, which promised a wonderful holiday.

They looked at each other and realising they still carried their champagne glasses toasted, ‘The Arona Gran, Love at first Sight’.

IV Spring Hoteles Golf Tournament will take place on Saturday 10th September, and will be held once again at the Golf Las Américas Course.  Here, at Spring Hoteles, we are so happy to celebrate  this Tournament for the fourth consecutive year, as on previous occassions this has been a great success between the players.

The Tournament will be played in Single Stableford and will be divided into 5 categories. There will also be a prize for the players without a Spanish Federation license.  The price for the inscription  will be 50 Euro. This price includes a welcome present for the golfers, and a presentation and raffle event in the evening at the  Arona Gran Hotel.

We have also prepared special golf packages at the Arona Gran Hotel for the players who wish to spend their holiday or even just the weekend , at a the very special price of € 50  per person and night on half board basis. 

During the Tournament, and on hole 9, there will be a  refreshment tent, where the players can have a drink and snack to continue with the game  

In the evening,  the prize giving cocktail  will be held at the Bar La Palapa at the Arona Gran Hotel  where players will be able to enjoy he gastronomy of  Spring Hoteles. In addition to the main trophy,  the winner of each category will also receive a Tag Heuer watch .  The other winners will receive a throphy and a selection of prizes. During this coktail there will also be a raffle between all the golfers and the prizes will include a Tag Heuer watch, return flights to UK, golf equipment and other presents supplied by our sponsors.    Our sponsors this year will be: Coca Cola, Freixenet, Montesano, Fuentealta, Bodegas Torres,  Estrella Damm, Sorted Sites and Thomas Cook.

If you want to have a look at our Flick gallery of last years golf tournamente , click here

For more information about our Special Hotel packages for this Tournament, click here , or telephone + 34 922 78 77 53

For the inscription  in the Tournament , click here  or telephone + 34 922 75 20 05

In less than a month the new Tenerife Ladies Match Play will be held at Golf Las Americas, , between 9 and 12 June 2011 . Tenerife, a destination with strong ties to golf for many years, made a new commitment by creating the Tenerife Ladies Match Play. This is a professional tournament sponsored by Turismo de Tenerife, integrated into the Ladies European Tour, whose formula of game does not exist currently in this Professional Women Circuit.  

The Spring Arona Gran Hotel  will be co-sponsoring of the Tournament as one of the official hotels of the competition. Situated just one kilometer away from Golf Las Américas, this is a one off opportunity to attend the Tournament and stay at our hotel at incredible prices that been specially prepared for this important event.

The Tenerife Ladies Match Play which forms part of the 2011 calendar for the Ladies European Tour will be played at Golf Las Américas in the south of Tenerife from the 9th to the 12th June. The format of this annual tournament in Tenerife (previously known as the Tenerife Ladies Open) will be a match play event where 32 of the top 50 professionals from the order of merit are invited to participate.

The program for the tournament will be as follows:-

9th June – Pro-am day

10th June – 16 matches of Match Play with the winners going through to the next round

11th June – 8 matches of Match Play with the winners going through to the next round

12th June – 8 players playing a medal format to decide the winner

We look forward to seeing you at the Spring Arona Gran Hotel to enjoy this unique event.

For reservations and information about this event please call +34 922 78 77 45

Last Thursday, the first French Boules Tournament between hotels Vulcano and Bitacora took place at the court of Hotel Vulcano.

Our animation team managed to assemble a large gourp of clients who had no hesitation in participating.

Here the players are showing great concentration while they wait for their turn.

Melinda, our entertainer,  is checking out the position of the boules.

Here you have three  members of our great animation team, Tania, Romy and Melinda, happy in their work as always.

The table was set up with sangria and fresh juices to welcome the thirsty participants after a hard day’s competition.

Our Head Barman, Manolo,  is serving up sangria after the tournament was finished.

On this occasion, Hotel Bitacora was the winning team, but for sure Hotel Vulcano is going to fight back next time. Maybe on your next visit you will be part of the winning team!!