A Family Portrait in Las Portelas
The large picture window in Rosa Martín Díaz’s house offers a view of almost the entire neighbourhood. Las Portelas is divided in two, a distinction that seems to matter a great deal to Rosa’s grandson, Daniel León León. “There’s Upper Las Portelas and Lower Las Portelas,” points out the young man from Buenavista, who chose the calm and his family’s roots to settle down, leaving behind the tourist-centric universe of southern Tenerife. “I went to the South once to run some errands with my mother and, no thank you. I don’t want that,” he adds, laughing alongside his grandmother and his mother, Delia León Martín.
Where Time Moves Gently
In Las Portelas, nestled within the Teno Rural Park, time stands still peacefully. The hamlet is painted green by the abundant rains falling this winter. Behind the glass-enclosed balcony of Rosa’s house is a small three-seater sofa. The corner invites you to sit, chat, and have coffee. She, at 88 years old, sinks into the comfortable armchair and crosses her legs with great dexterity. She is small, but her smile makes her grand. She looks tenderly at her grandson: “I raised him as if he were my son,” she confesses. Their genetics betray the relation: all three have light eyes, the colour of ‘green Las Portelas’. The León Martín family is synonymous with tradition. They are known and identified in Buenavista del Norte as the core of Las Portelas.
The Memory of ‘El Rubio’
Rosa’s husband was Alberto, better known as ‘El Rubio’ (The Blonde). He passed away three years ago, and tears still well in her eyes when she remembers him. “He was very well-known and loved by everyone,” she says with pride. ‘El Rubio’ remains present on the neighbourhood walls in the form of a mural. He was honoured in 2025 for, among other things, always lending the plot of land where the community celebrates the potato sowing at the start of each year.
A Crossroads for Walkers and a Lack of Services
Las Portelas is an obligatory stop for hikers. Throughout the morning, several groups can be seen, all foreigners, climbing the steep slope of the hamlet’s main street, heading towards the Bolico area. There lies the hostel, a true oasis for spending a few days amid the laurel forest. There are two circular routes in the area, one short and one long, which also connect to other paths crossing to the south side of Tenerife.
Tranquillity reigns in Las Portelas. About 150 people live here, with few young residents. Daniel lists them, pointing out where each one lives, and clarifies one of the biggest problems of the place: “Here, if you don’t have a car, everything is very complicated.” The bus passes through on its way to Masca, but the service is infrequent if you don’t catch it specifically to go down the recently regulated ravine. As for services, there is “a good doctor every day,” Rosa specifies, and a supermarket, but in El Palmar, about a ten-minute drive away.
The Mesón del Norte and Community Spirit
Furthermore, Las Portelas can boast of having the Mesón del Norte. It is one of the restaurants in Tenerife where you can eat quality grilled meat. Thanks to this establishment, many people put Las Portelas on the map. The visit to eat breaks the usual calm of the neighbourhood, but so does the festival committee. The festivities in honour of the Virgin of Carmen and Santo Domingo de Guzmán are celebrated at the end of August, and although these dates are typically hot, the family assures in unison that in recent years “the weather has been terrible,” while at the end of December the sun shines gloriously.
The group that organises the Las Portelas festivals opens the neighbourhood’s cultural centre every day from 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm. “That’s why there’s some movement here. Thanks to the committee, people have somewhere to go in the afternoons,” assures Delia. “They play dominoes there or go for a drink after mass,” Daniel adds. “Otherwise, there wouldn’t even be a place to buy a box of matches,” points out the family’s grandmother with astonishing serenity, despite the wry comment.
A Bygone Rural Life
“Before, there were more people here and we raised cows or goats. There isn’t a single one of those animals left now. Only two goats remain,” laments Rosa. Speaking of this, Daniel remembers that as a child he would always ‘take down’ the animals to San Antonio Abad, in the town centre of Buenavista del Norte, a livestock tradition he inherited from his grandfather. He no longer has animals to take. Although Rosa’s life was in the countryside and at times hard, she misses it. “You also went out and had a good time. People on those mountain paths singing and talking, they laughed,” she says with a smile on her lips. She reaffirms that they were good times: “The food was better. Boiled potatoes, kneaded gofio, cheese, sardines…” she lists. Her grandson joins in with the memories and encourages her to talk about how they ate: “Everyone from the same earthenware bowl with a mixed stew,” he narrates.
Martín Díaz has never lived anywhere else. Her mother was from Las Portelas and her father from Erjos, in El Tanque. There is a path, a bit below her house, that connects to the El Tanque area by crossing through the Monte del Agua. “I’ve been to La Gomera a few times, there and back in the same day, at most,” she laughs. Her cheerful and jovial character speaks of a happy life that contrasts with the depopulation of rural areas like this one. “People leave because there’s no work here either, just the fields, the fields, and more fields,” she reiterates. She remembers going to get brambles to chop and also going to collect firewood. They speak of a young neighbour who is dedicating himself to agriculture. Something that seems like an endangered species.
Health, Happiness, and a Chosen Calm
Despite being on the verge of turning 90, Rosa is well. “People from here keep very well. I don’t know if it’s because of the food or the quality of life,” Delia wonders. She also highlights her childhood, which she “wouldn’t trade for anything.” The mother supports her daughter’s testimony by confirming that “my girls certainly enjoyed themselves. They would gather outside there to play. You don’t see any of that now. Now it’s mobile phones,” she says. Delia goes back in time and tells how every weekend they would go on walks to Masca, for example. “We’d grab a cassette player and go walking through the hills,” as if going out onto any asphalt street.
Life is about making decisions. In Las Portelas, the León Martín family, with Rosa at the forefront and the memory of ‘El Rubio’, chose calm to continue boasting of tranquillity, greenery, and potatoes.
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