Reporter David Nowell is holiday in Tenerife with his partner Karen where he has found himself confined to his apartment as beaches and restaurants close. He tells his story
This is surreal.
I have been to Tenerife many times in the last 30 odd years.
I have seen it busy.
I have seen it quiet.
But I have never seen the streets and seafront so deserted. It feels empty lifeless and cold even though it is 20 odd degrees.
I'm reminded of the film 28 Days Later when the guy is on a deserted Westminster bridge. It's that eerie.
We are now in a lockdown in our apartment complex.
We have been told to only go out for essential food and medicines.
The pool is taped off and the pool bar has been shut.
The bar's English owners are baffled as we are a gated community and I have to say I agree.
Myself and my partner Karen had enjoyed five superb days before the lockdown.
The beach was noticeably quieter on Saturday.
Normally it would be full of locals .
Some flights from the UK had been cancelled.
Saturday night was also quieter.
After a superb steak we called in for a nightcap at the Wigan Pier (where else?) and had a good laugh with other punters.
Elvis is indeed alive and well here. As is Freddie Mercury.
But Sunday was odd.
We caught the bus to nearby village La Caleta.
It was deserted. Everything in this little fishing village was closed.
A handful of tourists wandered around looking lost.
Checking my phone, I then saw the notice from the authorities.
All public spaces were closed.
Bars and restaurants were shut down.
On the long walk back to Playa de Fanabe we passed hardly anyone.
A police car was driving around making a public address.
The officer inside seeing us heading for the beach confirmed we should go back to our hotel.
I walked into our local supermarket to get essential supplies and I was the only customer.
The streets were empty with little traffic.
Last night we ate on the balcony with lots of wine and music.
No big deal really. There is plenty of food around.
But I feel so sorry for the businesses that are losing vital income.
And I hate not being able to swim.
But this crisis will pass and we will return to this wonderful island soon.
That's assuming we can get home!