Trip to Tenerife
God help me.
Once again, I’ve managed to fool myself...
A few years ago, during what I’d call a “golden streak” of good ideas and solid travel choices, I set my sights on Greece. My wife was pregnant at the time, we had just returned from a month-long stay in Malaysia and... And of course, this time I missed the mark—by about two meters over the fence. I clearly remember I chose April as the month for that trip, too. Cool evenings, cold pool water, cold sea water, and barely any bugs to be found. But of course, there was no shortage of those so-called “nice walks,” because hey—maybe somewhere over that hill, a praying mantis El Dorado awaited. Sure thing.
This year, something pushed me toward Tenerife...
I mean, I knew. I knew very well it was April. Maybe Tenerife isn’t quite Europe... Maybe it’s just a bit closer to Africa... But still, somewhere in the back of my head, a tiny voice quietly whispered the word “Greece.”
I’d say it was almost déjà vu.
But let’s get to the point.
We went to Tenerife in the first half of April. The forecasted temperatures online were in the 18–26°C range. Based on my knowledge, the first half of April should—logically—mean there’s plenty of bugs around. And sure, there is—in Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, Kenya, or Tanzania. In those latitudes, you can scoop bugs up by the kilo.

Knowing all of this perfectly well, I still managed to convince myself that Tenerife would be different. Of course—it wasn’t.
My dear friends, Tenerife is an island where mantis species like Blepharopsis mendica, Hypsicorypha gracilis, Ameles spallanziana, and Pseudoyersinia occur “abundantly.”
I say “abundantly” because there’s a ridiculous number of sightings marked on the website iNaturalist.org.
We stayed in the southern part of the island. I won’t share the exact location—I'd rather leave you with the fun of discovering mantises on your own. I can tell you, though, that our accommodation was just a few hundred meters from some of the marked spots on that site.
Believe me when I say that when it comes to collecting and “mantis hunting in the field,” I’m genuinely good at it—modestly speaking, of course. Over the years, I’ve managed to collect a wide range of mantises across four continents. And yet, here in Tenerife—despite reading up on the sources, checking the weather, choosing what I thought was a good time to go—I almost had another “Greece moment.”

On the first day, early in the morning, I headed straight to the hillside. Estimated altitude—around 220 meters above sea level, though I didn’t have the means to measure it exactly. The slopes are mostly covered with xerophilous plants, species adapted to harsh conditions. My first “find” after nearly an hour of sweeping through the vegetation was a Pseudoyersinia sp.—an adult female found near a male, both sitting on grass blades. I’ll refer to those grasses as “grass” for simplicity—many of them reaching 1 to 1.2 meters in height.
I won’t lie—as far as first finds go, I was pretty pleased to have found anything at all. What did surprise me, though, was the complete lack of other insects. Literally just a few grasshoppers—dry habitat-loving types—and that’s it. No spiders, no flies, none of the usual meadow “plankton.”
On that first day, I didn’t go above 200–230 meters elevation. That’s useful info for anyone considering mantis hunting in Tenerife in the future.

Later that same day, in the afternoon—when the sun was already high in the sky—we took a walk to another location marked on iNaturalist. This spot was noted as a habitat for Blepharopsis mendica.
Altitude: 30–40 meters above sea level at most.
Ground temperature—constantly sun-exposed—was around 26–27°C. Distance from the ocean: roughly 400 meters in a straight line.
About an hour in, and another success. Same kind of grass as before, but this time I managed to “nab” Hypsicorypha gracilis. Within just 30 minutes, I found a pair and one extra female. All of them were two molts away from adulthood.
That little voice whispering “Greece” seemed to back off, and I began to think—maybe this trip won’t be a total disaster after all.

The following days yielded absolutely nothing. Honestly, I didn’t find a single thing. In Malaysia or the Indonesian islands, whenever I changed elevation while searching, at the very least I’d come across small mantis species like Amantis. Same story here in Tenerife—the higher I went, the worse it got, and the fewer insects there were.
At around 300 meters above sea level, I managed to find only a few jumping spiders and a single Argiope spider.

On the fifth day—and here I’ll share a specific location—we headed to the area known as Malpaís de Güímar (you can find a more detailed description here: https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valle_de_G%C3%BC%C3%ADmar).
To summarize—very dry terrain, a post-volcanic landscape full of parched vegetation.
Air temperature ranged between 28–29°C. Humidity was hovering around 50%.
Malpaís de Güímar is a documented location for Blepharopsis mendica, which, by the way, was the species I was most hoping to find. Finding the darn thing in those local shrubs, however, is borderline miraculous. Especially if the insects aren’t fully mature yet—then they’re even better at hiding between tightly packed, dried-up twigs.

Anyway, at the foot of the Güímar volcano, at an altitude of roughly 20–30 meters above sea level, I managed to find one—yes, just one—female Blepharopsis mendica. A sub-adult female.
Reminder: we’re still in the first half of April.
No other insects in sight. I really don’t know what these large mantises are supposedly feeding on, because the sheer absence of potential prey insects was quite baffling.
My guess is that their main food source could be grasshoppers—every now and then, a few lone individuals would dart out from underfoot.
We did spend a bit more time searching that area, but to no avail.

The trip to Güímar wrapped up with a scenic (read: scorching) 5-kilometer walk back, during which my wife got thoroughly sunburned :)
I have to admit, we weren’t expecting the sun to be this intense in April.
By around 2 p.m., the thermometer read 32°C.

My idea for that lovely little walk, the sunburn (let’s not forget—the sun does shine differently depending on latitude, and the angle of sunlight really does matter), and the fact I found exactly one mantis earned me a full suspension from any further hunting plans.
Well then... “Greece,” once again.

At night, between 11 p.m. and midnight, I went back several times with flashlights to the same spot where I found Hypsicorypha on day one. Over the next few nights, I managed to find just one additional female—barely a few meters from the original location.
Conclusion: this species seems to be communal, and after hatching doesn’t have a tendency to disperse far.

Nights in Tenerife, at least in the area we stayed, were relatively warm—temperatures close to forecasted: about 17–20°C, although it could get quite windy.
For Blepharopsis mendica, that didn’t seem to be a problem, as the vegetation they cling to wouldn’t be flattened even by a storm.

As for rain and access to freshwater:
The theory that misting Blepharopsis mendica with water will kill them is absolute nonsense. I agree that they’re thermophilic and don’t need frequent misting—but given the weather, I’m inclined to believe that during their growth phase (probably around L5–6), it’s worth misting and increasing humidity—even briefly.
For example, misting the enclosure and raising humidity to 70–80% for just 2–3 hours should effectively mimic their natural environment.
From December to the end of May, the island actually gets a decent amount of rain.

Tenerife is a large island, and you have to take into account the influence of Mount Teide on the local ecosystem. Even though the southern part of the island receives less rainfall, it’s still part of the ecological cycle.
All the mantis species living on the island are exposed to roughly the same weather patterns.

In conclusion, my short holiday in Tenerife...
It was this close to becoming another “Greece”—a complete disaster, failure, and trauma for my wife.
On the other hand—I know for a fact that a few German colleagues were also on the island during the same time, and they only managed to find Blepharopsis mendica, also in the Güímar area, by the way.
I collected three species. Point for me.

Unfortunately, I forgot to take into account the moon phase—a big minus on my part.
When it comes to insect searching, this really matters—during a full moon, you’ll barely find any mantises.
I’ll also deduct a point for not packing sunscreen—the sun in Tenerife, even in April, is strong.
And for Blepharopsis mendica and Hypsicorypha, that’s also a very important environmental factor.

All in all, it didn’t go too badly—but it definitely could have gone better.

If any of you ever feel tempted to head to Tenerife in search of mantises, I encourage you to consider looking (without the Wife/Husband—whichever one tends to complain more) in the Barranco del Infierno area.

Best regards to all lovers of creepy crawlies,
B