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What to Do When Your In-Laws Are Eating a Protected Species

A friend recently sent me a message from Cyprus that began with a photo of a back courtyard at night, cousins gathered around a traditional foukou with souvla turning slowly on the spit, and a bottle of homemade wine catching the glow of the coals. The message ended with another photo, of what appeared to be several small, brownish birds on a plate with the text, “My in-laws just served this. They call it ampelopoulia. It’s illegal.” I zoomed in and knew the friend was not exaggerating. There they were, the infamous “vineyard birds,” a delicacy made from tiny migratory songbirds that are trapped using sticky resin on branches. The millennia-old practice is banned and can cost one thousand euros per bird if caught. So the question that instantly came to mind was not about the birds, or even the fine. It was this: What on earth do you do when your in-laws are eating a protected species?

Thanksgiving is around the corner, which means families everywhere are preparing to gather and politely ignore one another’s ethics for a day. Every table has a hierarchy of moral discomforts. Some people swallow their principles with gravy while an uncle rants about politics. Some of us nod through conspiracy theories about vaccines and elections. You love them, and they love you, but in my old age I’ve learned that some conversations are best replaced with another glass of wine. But what if your ethical discomfort is not just social, it is ecological? What if it comes in the form of a stewed bird with a tiny beak still attached?

Before anyone sharpens their carving knives, I should clarify: neither I, nor SEVENSEAS, nor the person who sent me the message condone the catching or consumption of protected species. We encourage a lifestyle that is close to the land but respectful of it and of biodiversity. This story is not a how-to manual on poaching etiquette. It is an exploration of the moral limbo that appears when culture, love, and conservation collide over dinner.

It is easy to defend wildlife when you are standing at a podium. It is harder when you are sitting across from your partner’s family and they have cooked for you. Person X, as we will call them, was stuck between the rock of moral conviction and the hard place of family peace. The table was full of proud farmers, fishers, and foragers. People whose connection to land and sea goes back thousands of years. They grow their own food, waste nothing, compost, and feed scraps to the animals. They could teach the rest of us a few things about sustainable living. Except that one little problem with the birds.

Twenty years ago, one of my first mentors, Dr. Sheila McKenna, taught me something that complicates all of this. We were working in New Caledonia, where some Kanak communities still practice controlled consumption of sea turtles. It is done for specific ceremonies like weddings, funerals, or the New Yam festival. Sheila, who was way ahead of her time in cultural sensitivity, said something I have never forgotten. “We are here for conservation,” she told me, “and conservation goes hand in hand with culture. Who am I to tell them to stop their traditions? One turtle caught for a ceremony is not what is threatening the species.” She was right. That kind of respectful, limited practice is part of a living relationship with nature. It honors it rather than exploits it.

So when do we draw the line between what is sacred tradition and what is simply outdated? Across the world, there are examples that go both ways. Some people accept that various Inuit-led communities may still hunt whales. Others recoil at the thought. Among the Maasai in Kenya, lion hunting once marked the passage into manhood, but that test of bravery has been reimagined through competitions that honor courage without taking life. Cultures evolve, and traditions can adapt, especially when the environment demands it.

That brings us back to Cyprus and the vineyard birds. Can we say that only indigenous islanders in the South Pacific have the right to keep their ancestral practices, but Cypriot islanders who have lived there for eleven thousand years do not? Does the word “indigenous” have a monopoly on cultural legitimacy? Should we say, “Fine, eat the birds, but use a humane method”? Or does that miss the point entirely?

Click here to see the original bird photo but it may be disturbing to some readers.

When Person X sat down to that meal, the choices were not academic. They could jump up and protest, insult their hosts, and ruin their partner’s family relations forever. They could quietly refuse to eat and explain later. They could report it, though that would probably destroy lots more than the relationship. Or they could do what many of us do when faced with an ethical dilemma in a foreign kitchen: breathe deeply, say thank you, and just eat the salad.

We each have our own invisible lines in the sand. For some, it is factory farming. For others, it is overfishing, fur, foie gras, or palm oil. I know some vegans who will not attend a Thanksgiving dinner where a turkey is present, and others who will sit politely and enjoy the sweet potatoes and corn. The point is that morality has never been served in neat slices. It is messy, emotional, and deeply personal.

Cultural traditions deserve respect, but so does the planet that hosts them. And love, of people or of the natural world, requires compromise. It asks for the grace to disagree without condemning, to educate without humiliating, and to preserve relationships while still protecting principles. That is a tall order, especially after two glasses of homemade wine.

I wish I could tell you what Person X did. Did they call the cops? Did they take a polite nibble and change the subject to how unseasonably warm it is this year? Did they wait until later to explain their discomfort to their partner? For the sake of this article, we’re keeping that a secret.

Because the truth is that conservation, like family, rarely offers clean answers. Sometimes protecting what matters means knowing when to fight, and sometimes it means knowing when silence might keep the door open for change later. Thanksgiving, after all, is not only about gratitude but about grace. The grace to coexist, to listen, and to keep a little space at the table for complexity.

By Giacomo Abrusci, SEVENSEAS Media

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A Nature Traveller’s Guide to Tenerife (With a 7-Day Itinerary)

south coast does exactly what it promises. But Tenerife is an island of extraordinary geographical and ecological variety, and the version of it visible from a resort terrace is perhaps the least representative of what the island actually is.

Tenerife is home to Spain’s highest mountain, three distinct rural parks, a UNESCO biosphere reserve of ancient laurel forest, villages perched at elevations above 1,400 metres, volcanic landscapes that look like the surface of Mars, and a western coastline of sheer black cliffs falling 600 metres into the Atlantic. It has colonial cities with 16th-century architecture, cave-dwelling communities, stargazing sites that rival professional observatories, and natural tidal pools carved into lava rock where locals have swum for generations, completely uninterested in tourism. The island has a population of around 930,000 people living real, varied lives, and understanding a little of that life makes a visit significantly richer.

This guide is for travellers who want more of that Tenerife.

Understanding the Island’s Geography

Getting oriented matters here, because the island’s regions are genuinely distinct and travelling between them takes time. The central volcanic massif, dominated by Mount Teide at 3,715 metres, divides the island climatically: the north is wetter, cooler, and dramatically green; the south is dry, sunny, and more arid. The three main rural areas — Anaga in the northeast, Teno in the northwest, and the Teide highlands in the centre — each offer a completely different landscape and character. A rental car is essential for exploring any of them independently, and it is worth noting that many mountain roads are narrow, steep, and genuinely demanding to drive.

Where to Stay: Choosing Your Base

The most interesting places to base yourself are not on the resort strip. Here are four alternatives worth considering.

La Laguna (northeast) is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most beautiful colonial towns in the Atlantic islands. It was the original capital of Tenerife and its historic centre is a grid of 15th and 16th-century streets filled with carved wooden balconies, baroque churches, and a genuinely lively student population from the nearby university. Staying here puts you within easy reach of Anaga Rural Park and Santa Cruz, without sacrificing urban infrastructure. Hotel Laguna Nivaria, housed in a 16th-century mansion, is one of the finest small hotels on the island. 1

Garachico (northwest) was the most important port in the Canary Islands until the volcanic eruption of 1706 destroyed much of it and permanently altered the coastline. What remained was rebuilt thoughtfully, and today it is arguably the most architecturally coherent small town in Tenerife. The natural lava pools at El Caletón, formed in the same eruption that destroyed the port, are now a beloved public swimming area. Boutique Hotel San Roque, an 18th-century mansion facing the sea, and Hotel El Patio, a 16th-century farmhouse set in a 60-acre banana plantation, are both exceptional places to stay. 2

Vilaflor (central highlands) at 1,400 metres above sea level is the highest municipality in Spain, and sitting within it feels genuinely remote. Pine forest surrounds the village, the air smells of resin and altitude, and Teide National Park is just a short drive away. For travellers prioritising time in the volcano landscape, basing yourself here rather than driving up from the coast every day changes the experience entirely.

Anaga villages (northeast) — in particular Taganana, the oldest agricultural settlement in Tenerife, set in a steep valley running down to a black-sand beach — offer a different kind of immersion. Accommodation here is small-scale and basic, but the location inside the biosphere reserve, with walking trails directly from the door, is hard to match.

The Three Landscapes You Must Understand

Teide National Park and the Volcanic Interior

Teide is the obvious centrepiece, and it deserves its reputation. The national park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most visited natural sites in the world, but it is large enough that you can find solitude if you walk beyond the car parks. The caldera, known as Las Cañadas, is a 17-kilometre wide depression formed by the collapse of a previous volcanic edifice, and the landscape within it — lava rivers, ash plains, volcanic cones in shades of ochre and rust, and the extraordinary Roques de García rock formation — is unlike anything else in Europe. 3

The summit of Teide itself requires a permit to access the final 200 metres to the crater rim; permits are free but must be reserved well in advance through the national park website. The Telesforo Bravo trail, when an entry permit is obtained, is one of the most extraordinary hikes on the island, ascending through multiple volcanic zones. For those without a summit permit, the trail around Roques de García is an accessible and genuinely beautiful alternative, taking roughly ninety minutes and offering Teide in full view throughout.

After sunset, the altitude and absence of light pollution make Teide one of the finest stargazing locations in the northern hemisphere. The Mirador de Llano de Ucanca and the Portillo area are good spots for amateur stargazing; guided telescope tours depart from various operators in the park. 4

Anaga Rural Park: The Ancient Forest

Anaga is, in a very literal sense, one of the oldest living things in Europe. The laurisilva — the laurel forest — that covers much of this UNESCO biosphere reserve is a relic of the subtropical forests that covered much of southern Europe and North Africa before the Pleistocene ice ages. When those forests vanished from the continent, pockets survived in the Canary Islands, Madeira, and the Azores. Walking through Anaga’s mist-covered ridges and moss-draped trees is not merely walking through an old forest; it is walking through a landscape that has not fundamentally changed in millions of years. 5

The trails here range from gentle ridgeline walks with Atlantic views in both directions to more demanding descents into the deep barrancos (ravines) that separate the Anaga massif’s many ridges. The trail from Punta de Hidalgo up to the cave village of Chinamada — where several families still live in traditional cave houses carved into the hillside, some of them inhabited for centuries — is one of the most culturally and scenically rewarding hikes on the island. The coastal walk from the hamlet of Benijo to the Faro de Anaga lighthouse and back through Chamorga is longer and more demanding but offers one of the most remote feelings achievable in Tenerife. 6

The Cruz del Carmen visitor centre, at the main road through the park, is a useful orientation point and has staff who can advise on trail conditions.

The Teno Massif: Cliffs, Gorges, and Masca

The Teno Rural Park in the island’s northwest corner is geologically the oldest part of Tenerife, and it looks it — angular, layered, deeply eroded by millennia of wind and rain. The main road through the Teno mountains to the village of Masca is one of the most dramatic drives in Spain: a single-lane road that clings to cliffsides above thousand-metre drops, with a viewpoint that looks out across the Atlantic toward La Gomera.

Masca itself is a small village of stone houses that seems to cling to the mountainside by force of will. It has become increasingly popular in recent years, and an early start is strongly recommended to avoid the worst of the crowds. From Masca, the descent into the Barranco de Masca gorge to the black-sand beach at its base is one of the island’s iconic hikes, though it requires an advance permit and careful planning; boat collection from the beach rather than the return ascent is the standard approach. 7

Elsewhere in the Teno, the Chinyero Special Nature Reserve protects the site of the last volcanic eruption on Tenerife, which took place in 1909. The lava fields here are still raw and largely unvegetated, and the circular trail around the Chinyero cone gives a visceral sense of the island’s ongoing geological life. 8

Cultural Touchstones

Outside of nature, several experiences offer genuine insight into Canarian culture. La Laguna’s historic centre merits at least half a day of unhurried walking — the cathedral, the convents, the narrow streets of the Casco Histórico, and the Aguere cultural space. La Orotava, a town in the Orotava Valley on the northern slope of Teide, has some of the finest examples of traditional Canarian architecture anywhere in the islands: carved pine balconies, stone mansions, cobbled streets. The Casa de los Balcones is the most visited building in the town, though the whole historic centre is worth wandering. The valley below, filled with banana and potato terraces and still farmed in traditional strips, is a reminder that Tenerife had a complex agricultural life before tourism arrived.

The Drago Milenario in Icod de los Vinos — a Dracaena draco, or dragon tree, estimated to be between 500 and 1,000 years old — is one of the botanical landmarks of the Atlantic islands. The species is endemic to the Canary Islands and Madeira and was sacred to the indigenous Guanche people; its red sap was known as dragon’s blood and had ceremonial and medicinal uses. The tree in Icod is the largest specimen known. 9

For an encounter with the island’s pre-Hispanic past, the Pyramids of Güímar in the east of the island are a genuinely puzzling site: six stepped pyramidal structures of uncertain origin, oriented to the solstice sun. They were brought to international attention by the explorer Thor Heyerdahl, who believed them to be of pre-Columbian significance. The on-site museum presents multiple interpretive perspectives with appropriate caution.


Suggested 7-Day Itinerary

This itinerary is designed to move through the island’s distinct regions at a pace that allows genuine engagement with each. A rental car is essential throughout.

Day 1 — Arrive, La Laguna Check in to La Laguna. Spend the afternoon walking the historic centre. Evening in the city’s restaurant and bar scene.

Day 2 — Anaga Rural Park Full day in Anaga. Morning: drive the Anaga mountain road with stops at viewpoints above Taganana and the Cruz del Carmen visitor centre. Afternoon: hike the Punta de Hidalgo to Chinamada trail (roughly 4 hours round trip, moderate difficulty). Return to La Laguna.

Day 3 — Santa Cruz, then drive north to Garachico Morning in Santa Cruz: the Tenerife Auditorium, the Mercado Nuestra Señora de África, and the seafront. Early afternoon: drive to Garachico (roughly 1 hour). Check in. Explore the town and swim at El Caletón tidal pools before sunset.

Day 4 — Teno Massif and Masca Early start. Drive the Teno road to Masca (arrive before 9am). Walk the Barranco de Masca if booked in advance, exiting by boat; otherwise explore the village and hike the Santiago del Teide to Masca ridge trail. Afternoon: Chinyero lava field walk.

Day 5 — Drive south via La Orotava, ascend to Vilaflor Morning in La Orotava: Casa de los Balcones, the old town, the valley viewpoints. Drive through Icod de los Vinos to see the Drago Milenario. Continue south and upward to Vilaflor. Check in to local accommodation. Evening: early night ahead of Teide day.

Day 6 — Teide National Park Full day in the park. Morning: Roques de García circuit (1.5 hours). If summit permit held: Telesforo Bravo ascent. Afternoon: explore the caldera floor. Stay until after dark for stargazing at Mirador de Llano de Ucanca.

Day 7 — Anaga coast or rest day, return Optional: drive to Taganana for a walk down to the beach, or return to La Laguna for a last morning in the city. Depart.

Sources

  1. The Hotel Guru: Best Places to Stay in Tenerife, thehotelguru.com; Hotel Laguna Nivaria listing
  2. Secret Places: Boutique Hotels Garachico, secretplaces.com; Hotel El Patio and Boutique Hotel San Roque
  3. Our Wanders: Best Day Hikes in Tenerife, ourwanders.com, March 2026
  4. Tenerife Excursions: Tenerife — stunning nature between Teide, Anaga, and unique landscapes, escursionitenerife.com, October 2025
  5. Hiking Fex: Tenerife Hiking — 30 most beautiful hikes, hikingfex.com, September 2025
  6. Moon Honey Travel: Hiking Tenerife Mountains, moonhoneytravel.com
  7. Charlies Wanderings: The 7 Very Best Hikes in Tenerife, charlieswanderings.com, August 2025
  8. Our Wanders: Best Day Hikes in Tenerife — Chinyero section, ourwanders.com
  9. Let Y Go: Itinerary of the 6 Little-Known Villages of Tenerife — Icod de los Vinos section, letygoeson.it, July 2025
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