Mijas…

Yesterday Darren, Vince, Stuart and I took a break from partying and headed to the hills.

Mijas is a delightful mountain town lightly floating way up in the hills with a view back down towards the heavily built-up coast.

Painted white the town is chiefly a tourist destination. Music was drifting from the main plaza as we arrived, a smattering of partially filled restaurants were serving tapas to order, charming narrow streets gentle lead the curious up to equally charming little squares. Gaily coloured flower pots, pretty little blue doors, and delightful alleyways completed the chocolate box vibe.

Less delightful were the line of exhausted little donkeys waiting to pull tourists round. Flicking flies away with their ears they looked sad and uncared for. Some looked on their last legs. Literally. Shaking to stand.

At the top of the town was a small bullring. Seeming now used for symbolic dance shows with pictures outside of women dressed in fine black dresses being bullish and brightly festooned matadors going through their prancing motions. Red flag if ever I saw one.

After a few hours we hopped on a bus back down to the coast stopping in Fuengirola. We’d taken the hour long journey up to Mijas direct from Torremolinos by bus so thought Fuengirola would make a nice pitstop for some sundowners on the way home. How wrong we were. Fuengirola is a dump. The worse version of Brits abroad. Sports Bars blaring out rugby/footy at full volume. Drunken gangs of men. Gammons sitting outside The Irish Bar or The London Pub moaning about the Spanish and the heat. We couldn’t get out fast enough. Well, after a cocktail in Lola’s. After all she had lost her youth, her Tony, and her mind; she wasn’t going to lose our custom too.

Boarding the train back to Torremolinos we noticed how basic some of the tower lock hotels were in Fuengirola. Many even had barbed wire fences. We played the game “Prison or Hotel?” Yes, that bad.


Back in Torremolinos we looked around with fresh eyes and thought, actually it’s quite nice here.

Torremolinos Pride… “slightly chaotic, crazily loud, wildly enthusiastic, and delightfully unregulated”

Pride was great fun. It all kicked off about 6pm. 

The parade consisted of a dozen or so floats. Festooned lorries over-packed with revellers with water pistols, skimpy outfits and buckets of good cheer.  It was slightly chaotic, crazily loud, wildly enthusiastic, and delightfully unregulated. We saw one police man. And 10,000 spectators. The Spanish pretty much know how to have fun unsupervised. 

The jamboree snaked its way around the town and ended up in the celebration car park. The main stage had the usual mix of miming drag, worthy speeches, and low list dance acts. It was fab. 

The voucher system for drinks meant we couldn’t get too plastered. But we danced and chatted and laughed. People-watching at Pride is always fun. Some of the costumes, and some of the bodies attempting to fit into them, had us screaming with laughter. 

About 11pm we headed back into town and settled at Aqua bar to nurse some epically strong free-poured G&Ts, singalong to the tacky disco songs, and chat to all the passers by. I think I could pass an A Level in Spanglish now. 

We retired to our hotel about 1am. Weary after a fabulous evening. Some of the boys headed to an all-night disco party but we were content with our beds. 

Tomorrow is another day. And Sunday Pride is another bucket of glitter and rainbows to be upended. 

Torremolinos Pride : Those first impressions …

It’s Torremolinos Pride today. So it’s all about the partying. Of course. And it started in earnest last night. 

This morning as I lie in bed I’m somewhat relieved I’m not too hungover. I cut my losses about midnight. Some of us didn’t. ….  More on that later.

Things started well yesterday. It was our second day here in Spain. The first had been largely spend acclimatising with the use of the open bar at our hotel. We’re staying at the Melia Costa Del Sol which is lovely. We’ve paid a bit extra for something called The Level. 

Juggy, Vince, Stu and I had a nice walk along the front yesterday morning. But boy is some of it tacky. Broken down hotels. Some with barbed wire fences. White plastic chairs seem to litter the seafront populated by wall to wall cafe/eateries for mile after mile. Some do look quite nice. But others look positively rank. Everyone sells egg, bacon and beans. Very slanted towards Brits Abroad. 

Three miles along the front was the Marina which got noticeable smarter. We stopped for refreshments there. 

We then meandered back to our hotel slowly as the temperature rose. The sun is fierce here. 

The rest of our gang were by the pool drinking already. We all spent the afternoon sunbathing together. And splashing about in the pool and the jacuzzi. The Level at the hotel is deffo worth it. Great views. Not packed. Food and drink all day. Huge breakfast until noon. Nibbles from then and then tapas from 7pm. Free towels, lovely pool. Even lovelier pool boys. 

In the evening we headed into town to see the Pride kickoff party. It was in a big car park(!) packed with Spanish gays. Very easy on the eye. The stage had a succession of local ‘talent’ ; miming, prancing about “Hello Torremolinos!” All very amateurish but good fun. Lots of rainbows and beers stall. Voucher system. €4 a beer.

We also met up with two Spanish guys Tim, Andy & I had previously met in Seville in March. Ivan and Juan.  They had driven 3 hours over from Seville to see us. Well, to see Tim I suspect. 

After what seemed like the 28th local act we all decided to head back to the main gay area about half a mile from the car park. Wall to wall gay bars. Seemingly under a shopping centre. It was very busy - being the night before Pride. I only managed one small beer before heading home. All day drinking and then 6 beers at the car park - I was done. The rest of the gang stayed out much later. Stu crawled in and crashed about 4am. He’s still fast asleep. 

So I imagine today will be a slow start. Todays Pride parade starts from 6pm. But being in Spain that probably means 9pm. 

As they say, it’s a good life if you don’t weaken. But it’s stamina counts in the end. 

Torremolinos with the boys….

Off on holibubs…

So we are heading off to Spain for a week.  Torremolinos if you please. 

Cambridge….

Lovely day out with Charlotte and Joanna yesterday in Cambridge. We had a laugh.