Plaza de La Nogalera, July 2016. It would be an understatement to say that the Spanish resort of Torremolinos doesn’t have a great reputation. Disparaged by many as the grottiest of the Costa del Sol towns, I arrived here with staggeringly low expectations. After all, this is a resort that’s picked up unwanted nicknames like Torrid-Molinos and The Armpit Of Spain. Imagine my relief then when I exited the train station out into this sleepy little square. Ok, there was a Dealz pound shop and some tattooed bottom feeders leaning against a lamppost discussing how amazingly pissed they’d got the night before. But other than that the overall vibe seemed rather… pleasant.
Calle Mercurio, June 2016. I’d only been living in the city of Malaga for a few months when I decided to kick off my explorations of southern Spain. With so many of the country’s major highlights lying in wait throughout Andalucia, I decided to begin my wanderings gently with the perhaps unspectacular and often maligned resorts of the Costa del Sol. With Torremolinos, Fuengirola, Benalmadena and Marbella all easily accessible on the train from Malaga’s central station, I simply picked one at random and set off! On arrival I took the escalator up to this long main street stuffed with cafes, shops and bars.