Tenerife’s North West Coast: The Port a Volcano Buried in 1706

The short version: Tenerife is not just a collection of southern resorts; the wild north-west coast offers a dramatic, authentic landscape shaped by 7-million-year-old volcanoes. Rent a car to explore sea-cave villages, swim in natural volcanic lagoons, and visit historic towns like Garachico, which famously survived being buried by the 1706 Trevejo lava flow.

The short version: Tenerife‘s northwest coast is a world away from the southern resorts. If you want natural volcanic lagoons, ancient Guanche strongholds, and towns literally built on top of 18th-century lava flows, this is the side of the island you need to see. You will need a rental car and a decent head for heights, but it is undeniably the real Tenerife.

Over seven million people visit Tenerife every year. It’s a staggering, almost incomprehensible number for an island of this size. But here is the fascinating thing: roughly seventy percent of those visitors squeeze themselves onto the purpose-built resort beaches of the south. They come for the guaranteed sunshine, the all-inclusive buffet breakfasts, and the comforting familiarity of a pint of proper lager by the pool. And look, there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting a week on a sun lounger to thaw out from a British winter.

But by staying within a one-mile radius of the hotel pool, you miss the real island.

Independent travellers are finally starting to realize that the wild side of Tenerife—the side with the colonial history, the indigenous Guanche culture, and the jagged, volcanic edges—is the side actually worth seeing. It’s a visceral, authentic adventure you simply cannot get in a mega-resort. In my latest journey, I decided to pack the hire car and explore the island’s Wild Northwest. I wanted to trace the coastline from the rich agricultural towns down to the ancient cliffs of Teno, diving into the history of a place built by immense mercantile wealth and completely reshaped by volcanic fire.

Here is everything I discovered on the road, including the practical details, the local legends, and the sheer drops you need to know about to do it yourself.

Is San Juan de la Rambla worth a stop on the north coast?

Yes, San Juan de la Rambla is an accidental highlight of the north coast. It features a stunning, well-maintained town centre and beautiful coastal paths where you can watch the Atlantic waves crash violently against the cliffs, making it a perfect, unplanned stop on your road trip.

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Absolutely. It is a beautifully preserved, fiercely quiet town that most tourists drive straight past. The main draws here are the dramatic, crashing waves at Las Aguas and the sheltered natural volcanic swimming pool at Charco de La Laja just along the coast.

The absolute best parts of any road trip are usually the bits you didn’t plan. I was driving along the winding northern coastal road, heading west with a loose itinerary, when I spotted a village clinging stubbornly to the edge of the Atlantic. This is Las Aguas, a small, salty coastal offshoot of the main town of San Juan de la Rambla.

Las Aguas is definitely not a swimming beach. It is a spectacular showcase of raw, unfiltered nature. The waves here roll in across the Atlantic with zero hesitation, smashing against the black volcanic rock with a sound you can feel right in your chest. The air tastes of salt spray, and you can hear the massive basalt boulders grinding together in the surf. It is mesmerizing—though apparently, the locals were much more interested in a classic car parked nearby than the geological drama unfolding in the water. Typical.

If you do actually want to get in the water around here, you need to look for the natural pools, known locally as charcos. Just along the coast is the Charco de La Laja. It’s a natural volcanic rock pool formed by ancient lava flows hitting the cold sea. If you catch it at low tide, the basalt walls act as a breakwater, protecting you from the crashing swells and giving you a safe, clear, saltwater lagoon right on the edge of the wild ocean. It’s bracing, but brilliant.

Just a short, steep walk up the hill from the water is the historic centre of San Juan de la Rambla. I hadn’t planned to stop here, but it pulled me in. It is incredibly well-maintained, ridiculously cute, and feels a million miles away from the neon strips of Playa de las Américas. There is a palpable sense of civic pride here, from the quirky memorial dedicated to local shoemakers (complete with bronze shoes currently undergoing restoration) to the meticulous upkeep of the local church plaza.

It was in this plaza I found a brilliant little chip stand selling both hot dogs and fresh churros. Naturally, refusing to choose, I ordered both. The chap running the stand pragmatically folded the hot dog into a bun like an empanada to make it fit, and honestly, the churros were so perfectly crisp and sugary they could have been a meal on their own. Culinary perfection for under a fiver.

What do you need to know before visiting San Juan de la Rambla?

• Parking: There is usually free street parking near the church plaza, but it gets tight on weekends when locals come down for lunch.
• Accessing the Charco: Access to Charco de La Laja is via a set of steep, winding stone steps. Crucial advice: Do not attempt to swim at high tide or when the red flag is flying. The Atlantic swells here are unforgiving and can sweep you off the rocks in an instant.
• Best Time to Visit: Mid-morning for a coastal walk, followed by fresh churros in the plaza before the afternoon heat sets in.

What is there to do in Icod de los Vinos besides the ancient tree?

Beyond the famous thousand-year-old Dragon Tree, Icod offers incredible historic architecture funded by the 16th-century wine trade. You can also explore the massive Cueva del Viento lava tube system, and witness an extreme local street-sledging tradition every November.

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The next morning, fully fuelled on sugar, I drove further west to Icod de los Vinos. Built on a severely steep slope tumbling down towards the sea, with the massive, brooding peak of Mount Teide looming in the background, it is a proper, bustling working town.

Most day-trippers arrive on air-conditioned coaches for one specific reason: the Drago Milenario. It is an ancient Dragon Tree (which is technically a massive succulent, not a tree) that is reputed to be a thousand years old. Local indigenous legend says that when dragons die, they turn into these trees, which is why their sap runs blood-red. It is genuinely an impressive piece of flora, but there is so much more to Icod than its famous shrubbery.

Historically, this was one of the wealthiest post-conquest settlements on the island. The money was built on two highly lucrative exports: sugar cane and Malvasia wine. The sweet, heavy wine was so highly prized in the 16th and 17th centuries that William Shakespeare even name-dropped it in his plays (referring to it as “Malmsey”). You can see the remnants of this immense wealth in the town’s architecture, particularly around the beautifully preserved Plaza de la Pila, flanked by grand aristocratic mansions featuring traditional, intricately carved wooden Canarian balconies.

Icod also holds onto one of the island’s most chaotic and slightly terrifying traditions. Inside the excellent tourist information centre, I learned about the Tablas de San Andrés. Every November, to celebrate the opening of the new wine cellars, the locals grease up heavy wooden boards, haul them to the top of Icod’s incredibly steep, cobbled streets, and hurl themselves down at breakneck speeds. It is essentially extreme street sledging on concrete. The sound of scraping wood and cheering crowds apparently echoes through the valley for days.

If you prefer your history a little more geological, Icod is the gateway to the Cueva del Viento (Cave of the Wind). This is a phenomenal labyrinth—one of the largest complex lava tube systems in the world, formed 27,000 years ago during an eruption of the Pico Viejo volcano. It is mind-bending to stand in the sunny town square and realize that right beneath your feet are the hollow, winding veins of a massive volcano.

What do you need to know before visiting Icod de los Vinos?

• Cueva del Viento: You absolutely must book tickets online weeks in advance. I wasn’t organized enough and completely missed out. Don’t make my mistake.
• Getting Around: Wear very comfortable, grippy shoes. The town is built on a severe incline, and the polished cobbled streets are a serious workout for your calves.

Where is the safest place to swim on Tenerife’s north coast?

San Marcos is one of the very few places on the wild north coast where you can swim safely. The deep, U-shaped bay is flanked by high cliffs that naturally block the prevailing trade winds and the brutal Atlantic swells.

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If you look at a topographical map of Tenerife, you will notice a recurring theme along the north coast: historic, wealthy towns are deliberately built a few miles inland, with a separate, much smaller port settlement situated down on the coast. This was a strategic move to keep the wealthy merchants and town centres safe from the very real threat of British and French pirate attacks.

Icod’s port is reached via a steep ravine drive down to a place called San Marcos. For centuries, this was known throughout the Spanish Empire as the “Timber Port.” The massive Canary pine trees—a unique, incredibly dense, and naturally fire-resistant wood—were logged in the high-altitude forests of Teide, dragged down the mountain to this exact bay, and shipped off to help build the ill-fated Spanish Armada.

Today, that natural, historic harbour serves a much more peaceful purpose. The bay is shaped like a deep, sheltering ‘U’, flanked by high, protective cliffs. Because these sheer rock faces block the prevailing trade winds and take the brunt of the huge Atlantic swells, San Marcos is one of the very few places on the wild north coast where you can swim comfortably without feeling like you’re in a washing machine. It is a proper local’s beach: glittering black volcanic sand, calm water, and blissfully free of neon signs or promoters trying to sell you happy-hour cocktails.

Is the drive to San Juan del Reparo dangerous?

Yes, the drive up to San Juan del Reparo requires navigating severe, first-gear switchbacks on an incredibly steep mountain road. The route up from the coast feels like scaling a vertical wall and is genuinely terrifying for nervous drivers, but the panoramic views over Garachico make the stress completely worth it.

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To explore the Garachico region properly, I decided to base myself high up on the cliffs above the coast in a village called San Juan del Reparo. On paper, the location is undeniably stunning. Look one way, and you have sweeping, panoramic views of the entire northern coastline falling away into the sea; look the other, and the peak of Mount Teide towers silently over you.

However, getting to my “great value” accommodation was an absolute white-knuckle experience. It was located on a road called Calle El Monte, which literally translates to “Street of the Mountain.” That really should have been my first warning. The drive up felt less like navigating a public road and more like attempting to scale a vertical wall in a 1.2-litre hire car. It involved first-gear switchbacks and praying nothing was coming the other way. But once I reached the top, stopped sweating about the smell of burning clutch, and my heart rate returned to normal, the view from the terrace made every terrifying hairpin bend completely worth it.

Why was the wealthy port of Garachico buried by lava?

Garachico was buried by a river of lava from the Trevejo volcano eruption in 1706. The lava flow slowly descended the cliffs, destroying the harbour—the city’s commercial heart at the time—and crippling the local economy overnight, though most of the town’s residents managed to escape.

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In 1706, the Trevejo volcano erupted, sending a slow, grinding river of lava straight over the cliffs and into Garachico’s booming commercial harbour. It wiped out the local economy literally overnight, though the elevated old town miraculously survived the destruction.

The real reason to stay up in San Juan del Reparo is the view looking straight down over the cliff edge. From up there, you get a God’s-eye view of Garachico, sitting on a peninsula of black rock jutting into the sea. You are looking at the site of the most dramatic and devastating event in the island’s recent history.

In May 1706, the Trevejo volcano erupted. It didn’t explode violently with ash like Mount Vesuvius; instead, it sent a slow, unstoppable, grinding river of aa lava pouring over the cliff face directly into the town of Garachico below.

At the time, Garachico wasn’t just a quiet village; it was the commercial engine of the Canary Islands. Wealthy Italian bankers from Genoa had settled here to control the highly lucrative sugar and wine trades, creating a booming port that helped finance the Spanish empire’s expansion across the Atlantic to the Americas.

The lava flow buried the harbour entirely, pushing the coastline out into the sea and destroying the local economy literally overnight. Garachico is often referred to as the Pompeii of Tenerife, but because the lava flow was relatively slow-moving, no lives were lost, and the locals had time to grab what they could and flee up the hills. Furthermore, because the old aristocratic quarter of the town sat slightly higher up from the port, it narrowly escaped the worst of the destruction.

Walking through Garachico today is a strange, beautiful mix of triumph and tragedy. The stunning Convent of San Francisco and the Santa Ana church still stand as physical proof of that immense, lost 17th-century wealth. Down by the waterfront, you will find the Castillo de San Miguel. Built in 1575 to defend the rich port against pirates like Sir Francis Drake, the small, stout stone fortress faced a much tougher test in 1706. When the molten rock hit the coast, it physically split and flowed around the thick stone walls. The town burned, the harbour vanished forever, but the little fortress survived.

Just offshore is the Roque de Garachico, a large, sheer volcanic sea stack. Centuries ago, ships heavily laden with goods sailing back from the Americas used it as a visual landmark to navigate into the bustling, wealthy harbour. Today, it stands guard over a ghost port.

Where the 1706 lava finally met the freezing Atlantic sea and violently cooled, it created a series of jagged natural rock pools known as El Caletón. They have been adapted with walkways and ladders, making them brilliant for a unique swim, but they are frequently closed off by lifeguards when the Atlantic waves decide to get aggressive.

What do you need to know before visiting Garachico?

• Parking: Do not even try to drive through the narrow, one-way old town streets. There is a large municipal car park near the football pitch just outside the historic centre. Park there and walk; it takes five minutes.
• Festivals: If you happen to visit during the annual Fuegos del Risco festival, you are in for a treat. The locals recreate the volcanic eruption by rolling flaming barrels and fireworks down the sheer cliffside at night. It is brilliantly chaotic and spectacular.

Is Los Silos the quietest village in Tenerife?

Nearly. Los Silos is the quiet neighbour of Garachico and Icod, so quiet on the main path that I felt I should whisper, and it only really wakes up every December for its international storytelling festival. The one place on this trip that beat it for silence was Buenavista del Norte, further west, which is the quietest town I’ve been to.

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Just a few minutes’ drive further west down the low coastal road from Garachico is Los Silos. Driving here, the landscape flattens out entirely into vast, green, intensely cultivated banana plantations.

If Garachico is the famous, dramatic, historically tragic sibling, Los Silos is the quiet, artistic one. The contrast is jarring. It revolves around a beautiful central plaza dominated by a striking white church and a charming old music school, but the overriding feeling here is absolute, pin-drop silence. After the roaring waves and bustling tourists of the other towns, you feel like you need to whisper here.

There isn’t a huge checklist of tourist sights to tick off, and that is exactly its charm. It is a place to sit with a coffee and just be. It is worth noting, however, that every December, this sleepy town completely transforms to host the Festival Internacional del Cuento (International Storytelling Festival), drawing artists, writers, and performers from across the globe, filling the quiet streets with art and theatre.

Where is the geological boundary between Tenerife’s old and new volcanoes?

The geological boundary of Tenerife sits at Santiago del Teide, separating the jagged, volatile lava fields of the east from the ancient, seven-million-year-old Teno Massif to the west. This dividing line marks the exact spot where the island’s modern volcanic backbone meets the deeply eroded remains of the original island.

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From the low coastal plains of Los Silos, the only way forward is up. Driving up the winding, increasingly dramatic mountain roads brings you to Santiago del Teide. This town is geographically fascinating because it sits right on the “scar tissue” of Tenerife.

It marks a massive geological boundary line. To the east lies the younger, volatile part of the island—evidenced by the jagged, pitch-black lava fields surrounding the town that date back to the Chinyero eruption of 1909 (Tenerife’s most recent eruption). But to the west, the landscape changes entirely. You enter the ancient, green, deeply weathered peaks of the Teno Massif.

Crossing the high mountain pass into Teno means entering the ancient Menceyato of Daute. Before the Spanish arrived, the indigenous Guanche people—tall, fiercely independent islanders who famously communicated across valleys using a whistling language—divided the island into nine kingdoms (menceyatos). Daute was the warrior kingdom of the west.

When the Spanish conquistadors invaded in the late 15th century, they took the flat southern beaches relatively easily. But the Guanches used the sheer, vertical ravines and impenetrable mountains of Teno as a massive natural fortress, and remote places like the Masca gorge held out against the invaders for a remarkably long time.

Following the dizzying road down into the gorge brings you to the famous village of Masca, an ancient Guanche settlement sitting on a rock pinnacle surrounded by sheer drops. The view is amazing; I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But a word of warning: as with everything highly photogenic on Tenerife, it gets absolutely packed. When I got there the queue of cars waiting to park was long enough that it turned into a drive-by visit, and the narrow, single-lane access road becomes a stressful, logistical nightmare of terrified rental car drivers gripping their steering wheels in pure panic.

What do you need to know before visiting Masca?

• The Hike: The famous hike down the Masca gorge to the sea is incredible, but you can no longer just turn up in your trainers. You must book a permit via the official Tenerife national parks website months in advance, and you need proper footwear.
• The View: If you don’t have a permit, the view from the village at the top is still well worth the motion sickness required to get there. However, aim to arrive before 9 AM or after 4 PM to avoid the absolute worst of the midday coach traffic.

How many volcanoes formed Tenerife?

Tenerife didn’t originally exist as a single landmass; it was formed by three separate, ancient shield volcanoes—Teno, Anaga, and Roque del Conde—that rose out of the Atlantic Ocean over seven million years ago.Over millions of years, a massive central volcano erupted in the ocean gaps between these three separate islands. This colossal eruption flooded the spaces with lava, effectively welding the original three volcanoes together to form the unified, duck-shaped island of Tenerife we explore today.

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How do you get to the restricted lighthouse at Punta de Teno?

Access to Punta de Teno is strictly restricted to protect the fragile environment. You cannot drive your own vehicle to the lighthouse; instead, you must park in Buenavista del Norte and take the official 369 public bus, which runs regularly to transport visitors to the tip of the island.

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Because the cliffside road is incredibly dangerous and prone to rockfalls, private rental cars are heavily restricted during the day. The easiest and safest way to get there is by taking the local Titsa Bus 369 from Buenavista del Norte.

The deep ravines of Teno eventually open up onto the coastal platform of Buenavista del Norte. This flat, triangular shelf of land, known as the Isla Baja, was created millions of years ago by massive amounts of lava flowing off the Teno massif and rapidly cooling in the sea. The town itself dates back to 1513, and because it is tucked away behind the imposing, isolating mountains, it completely escaped the mass tourism development that swallowed the south of the island in the 1970s. It feels like stepping back in time.

From Buenavista, I wanted to reach the ultimate goal of this road trip: the absolute western tip of the island at Punta de Teno.

Because the cliffside road leading out there is so notoriously dangerous (prone to rockfalls) and the area is an ecologically sensitive marine reserve, access for private rental cars is heavily restricted during the day. The simple, stress-free solution is to jump on the local Titsa Bus 369 from Buenavista. For a couple of euros, a very relaxed, highly skilled local bus driver will give you an absolute masterclass in cliffside driving, navigating a road blasted straight into the rock face with terrifying, barrier-less drops down to the churning ocean below. Just don’t look down if you suffer from vertigo.

When you step off the bus at Punta de Teno, the wind hits you instantly. It feels incredibly wild, remote, and elemental. There are two lighthouses sitting on the barren rock here—a modern, candy-striped red and white one, and a much older, stout stone one.

Fascinatingly, the old stone lighthouse was built using rock brought over by boat from the neighbouring island of La Gomera, which sits clearly visible, looming on the horizon. Before the current terrifying road was blasted through the cliffs in the mid-20th century, it was actually easier, safer, and cheaper to sail heavy building materials across the open ocean from a completely different island than to try and move them over land from Buenavista.

Standing here, leaning into the wind and looking out at La Gomera, is to stand at the very birthplace of Tenerife. Millions of years ago, three separate, massive shield volcanoes rose out of the Atlantic Ocean. Teno was the very first to break the surface. Over millennia, subsequent massive eruptions in the centre of the island eventually bridged the gaps, joining these separate islands together to form the duck-shaped Tenerife we know today.

It is a beautiful, harsh, wind-swept place. Looking at the unspoiled, raw landscape here, and across the water to the similarly wild peaks of La Gomera, you can entirely understand why local residents are increasingly pushing back against unchecked over-tourism. When you have a landscape this ancient, historically rich, and pristine, it is absolutely worth protecting.

Final Thoughts

I started this journey with an accidental discovery and a cheap hotdog at a chip stand in San Juan de la Rambla, and ended up standing at the jagged, wind-whipped edge of the world at Punta de Teno. In between, I walked through a wealthy colonial city buried by a slow-moving river of fire, stood beside a fortress that physically split the lava, and crossed the geological scar tissue separating the new island from the ancient kingdoms.

The Northwest proves that if you are willing to leave the all-inclusive sun lounger behind, brave a few terrifyingly steep hills, and embrace the Atlantic wind, Tenerife has a wild, authentic, and brilliantly resilient soul just waiting to be found.

In my next video and blog, I will be heading East to find a modern ghost town built for a terrifying disease that never arrived, and a coastal village that looks like an exploded rainbow. Make sure you are subscribed so you don’t miss it.

Have you ever braved the driving to explore the north coast of Tenerife, or do you usually stick to the comforts of the southern resorts? Let me know your favourite hidden spots (or your scariest hire car moments) in the comments below!