Bathing the Goats in Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife: Harmless Tradition, Silly & Pointless or Act of Cruelty?

We all have different views, likes and opinions. Life would be very boring otherwise. However, sometimes I struggle to understand what makes people tick.

Take el baño de las cabras in Puerto de la Cruz this week. This midsummer tradition dates back to the times of the original inhabitants and involves giving the livestock a dunk in the magical midsummer waters to ensure fertility and good health – something that the humans do the previous night. It fascinates me and I love witnessing it, but not everyone feels the same.

Not Interested
When I first heard of the ‘bathing of the goats’ it went straight on to my list of things on Tenerife that I had to experience. But a couple of people have commented to me recently that they wouldn’t get up early to watch a load of goats. I can relate to that view up to a point. After a night celebrating San Jan at a beach party, it isn’t easy to drag yourself out of bed and the crowd that gathers at the harbour in Puerto de la Cruz tends to be quite mature, the younger people having partied till dawn. Still pushing out the Zs no doubt.

But you ain’t going to find a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow if you don’t make the effort to look for it. Many times, on the basis of an intriguing sentence on a Spanish web page or something similar, we’ve headed off to events with no idea of what to expect. Nine times out of ten we are rewarded with something special. Like this week at La Caleta de Interian when they lit up the beach with small torches.

It’s Cruel
Then there are the people who don’t like it because they think that it’s cruel to the animals. Our footage of the bathing of the goats probably doesn’t help. These goats bitch when they’re dragged and carried to the sea. Boy do they bitch. Anyone who heard them would think that they were having their throats slit instead of being dunked in the water. But that’s animals for you. They don’t want to go in the water and they let anyone who cares to listen know this…loudly.

But thinking it’s cruel is a misinformed view. I’d make a guess and say probably from people who don’t have any knowledge of what farming involves. Farmers can be firm handed with their livestock, but to think for a second that they’d deliberately hurt, or damage them is way off base. The goats are their livelihood and healthy, happy animals are vital to them. Sometimes we Brits can have too soppy a view of how we treat animals – Andy will tell you I’m the biggest culprit, the cat runs rings around me. But I did spend my summers on a farm when I was growing up and know the difference between being cruel and handling animals firmly.

And Finally ‘It’s a Silly and Pointless Tradition’
This was a comment on a forum and it wound me up no end. What a ridiculous thing to say. Presumably the person who said this doesn’t give Easter eggs, presents at Christmas, light fireworks on Bonfire Night, dress up for Halloween, or possibly even go to church on a Sunday. All might be viewed as silly and pointless traditions.

Let’s look at it another way. Are farmer’s in Britain who dip their sheep every year to rid their animals of parasites and pests indulging in a silly and pointless tradition? Because that is what it’s really all about. The Guanche might have believed the midsummer waters had magical healing powers and local goatherds are happy to go along with that, but clearly salt water is a cleanser. El  baño de las cabras might be a tradition and a fascinating spectacle, but it also serves a purpose.

And anyway even if it was a silly and pointless tradition, so chuffing what? I love silly and pointless traditions – Tenerife has loads of them. They add colour and imagination to the world and life in general.

What a terribly dull and dreary existence it would be without them.

El Baño de las Cabras: Bathing the Goats in Tenerife

El Baño de las Cabras (bathing of the goats) is a tradition that’s believed to date back to Guanche times.The bathing of the livestock is said to purify them and help ensure that they’ll be healthy over the coming year.

It’s one of Puerto de la Cruz’ weird little fiestas. The sight of goats and boats and horsemen and goatherds, some dressed as though they’ve just come from the previous night’s beach party, filling the town’s harbour falls into the surreal category.

After the previous night’s revelry, I was just about compus mentis enough to take some photos, but that was about it, so I’ll shut up and let the photos show you what was going on.

Personally, I'd be wearing body armour.

Somehow I don't think he's jumping for joy

Puerto's 'swim team'

Equestrian Aquatics

Check out more animal antics at the harbour at my San Juan slideshow here.

Fiestas of San Juan in Tenerife: A Magical Night

When you’re going to be sharing a beach with upwards of 17000 other revellers, it takes some serious tactical planning to choose the right spot. We’d been here plenty of times before and knew that a wrong decision can put you in the flight path of the hordes of sea bound San Juan-ers intent on reaching the shore to bathe in the magical Midsummer waters.

As the sun goes down, the candles are lit

This year we got it perfect. A small palm tree with a view of the stage and the bonfire and equidistant from the sea and the toilets (you have to take all things into consideration when planning a campaign of this magnitude) acted as our base.

The Noche San Juan celebrations in Puerto de la Cruz are always a major event with families descending on Playa Jardín from around 6pm. We like to get their early to stake out our patch, dig our hole, decorate it with flowers and candles and chill out before the evening’s entertainment hits full swing. That usually means nosy-ing at what else is going on; like the guy in the worst swim shorts ever…I mean Speedos with skulls on them…where are the fashion police when you need them. The oddest person on the beach was a very smiley elderly woman with badly dyed black hair. She wandered up and down the beach pausing to smile at the decorated excavations, ours included. Nothing odd in that except she clearly had an obsession with pink. Pink T-shirt, pink ankle socks and get this, she also was licking away at pink ice cream.

Sunset at San Juan

You’re always guaranteed a good show in Puerto and this year was no different. Somewhere around nine the first of two traditional Canarian bands started and as darkness descended candles were lit all across the beach and the magical night really got into its swing.

With San Juan, the atmosphere heats up as the night progresses. The sand fills up with people around you and laughter and singing fill the night air. There’s always an ‘arty performance’ included and I reckon any savings on this year’s event must have been made here. Whereas last year’s involved an elaborate show and a horde of acrobats suspended above the waves, this year’s offering was one bloke swinging from a high pole above the castle, but it seemed to be the only concession to the ‘creesees’. The firework display to music might not have been on a Tatton Park scale, but it was still spectacular.

Hot night on the beach

Ironically what really ignited this year’s fiesta was the rock band Los Salvapantallas from La Palma. I say ironically, because what usually rings the bell of most Canarios, young and old, is the island’s traditional music, so it was a surprise to see the crowd go wild to the best of 80s rock anthems. By the time the band struck up a rock version of ‘Mamma Mia’, the beach was a bikini clad boogie land.

The band’s electric guitars were still screaming by the time midnight arrived and Andy and I stripped down to our swimwear and negotiated our way through the crowd to the magical waters and another first.

I can honestly say that I’ve never stood waist deep in water at midnight with hundreds of bathers all of whom had their arms in the air clapping a rhythm to ‘We will, we will, rock you…” as multicoloured strobe lights raced across the sea lighting us all up. It was one of those delightfully bizarre little moments.
The water this year was much more temperate then previous years, so a lot less goose pimples and shrivelled bits…which was a bonus.

Rocking the Beach

The band were so popular that they were called back for 4 encores before the official entertainment ended and the bongo drums and guitars were brought out around us. Before we knew it, it was 2 am. The atmosphere was still seductive, but we wanted to see ‘el baño de las cabras’ (goat bathing) in the harbour the following morning and so reluctantly dragged ourselves away.

I had one last thing to do though.  I wanted a shot of the beach from the jetty which reaches out from the Castillo San Felipe. I left Andy and set up my mini tripod and within a few seconds was surrounded by a group of sloshed Gomeran lads who, spotting that I wasn’t Canario, were keen to educate me about the fact that Canarios weren’t Spanish, they were Canarios, which was a lot better.
Funny how having a couple of beers and a few glasses of rosada does wonders for language skills. Whereas I have some days where my Spanish speaking seems to fly out the window, with the lads I had one of those times where I was able to understand and converse easily.
Don’t ask me how, or why…it was them directing the conversation, but in the space of a few minutes we covered La Gomera and silbo, the Scots wearing skirts, Catholics and the use of Durex, homosexuality and finally the English versions of Spanish swear words before they invited me to a party at their house which I declined.

That’s the Noche de San Juan; full of fun and odd little experiences; I love it…but if anyone saw a group of lads wandering across Playa Jardín shouting “mootherfoooker’ at each other it had absolutely nothing to do with me.

The Midsummer waters

Goats and Boats

Although the harbour beach was as packed as Playa Jardín had been the previous evening, its occupants weren’t making much of a noise. The only sound was coming from the protests of the creatures being dragged kicking and bleating across the pebbles to the water’s edge; that and the occasional low rumbling noise.

“What’s that?” Andy asked. I shrugged.
“It’s the goats,” Sue screwed up her nose. “It’s the sound of goats farting.”
Clearly they were very nervous about what was about to befall them.

The San Juan Fiestas don’t stop at the beach party. The following day all the goats from the La Orotava Valley are brought into town and unceremoniously ‘dipped’ in the harbour’s waters. Bleary eyed we made our way to the harbour to watch this strange pagan (Guanche)tradition.

Having been on the beach till the early hours we missed most of the ‘dippings’ and by the time we arrived at around 11.00 am, many of the caballeros (horsemen) and goatherds had retired to the nearest bars to indulge in a bit of business leaving their charges somewhat shell-shocked on the harbour beach’s pebbles.

Still we did get see a few of the hairy creatures get dragged into the sea for their annual swim; some goats being milked on the beach; a goatherd being butted by a large specimen with long twisted horns(ouch) and a couple of horsemen manoeuvre their steeds between brightly painted fishing boats.

It’s a fascinating spectacle and a nice, if slightly surreal, contrast to the more contemporary beach fiesta of Midsummer’s Eve.