70's concrete hell

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For the 3^rd morning in a row I got the same train to the nearest of all the destinations I wanted to visit, the iconic 70’s resort of Torremolinos. Having had such a pleasant experience of the other 2 towns on the Costa del Sol I was hoping for a similar experience here. However, I was sorely disappointed. Straight away when emerging from the train station you could tell the town was stuck in 1973 and hadn’t even been on trend back then. It was high rise concrete hell with cheap shops and a down at heel feel. I began the slow walk down through the main streets and the winding bends leading down to the sea. It was a huge drop down and I was hoping to God there was a bus back up as it was going to be a killer on the calf muscles otherwise. The seafront was very disappointing, mainly because by this point the sun had gone in and it was overcast yet very sticky and warm. There was nothing to look at apart from endless shops and past their sell by hotels. Having walked along the front for about 20 minutes it was clear that there wasn’t a secret bit to Torremolinos that I was missing so I headed back towards the steep hills considering I discovered there was no bus! However, to my rescue was the lift which is built into the rock which connects the lower and upper town. I had a light lunch before deciding to get the normal service bus back to Malaga as it was frequent and cheap and at least I would see a new way into the city. I was back in Malaga by 1.30pm so walked round the city some more, saw 2 more processions begin and then headed back to the hotel for around 7.pm, all worn out from my Spanish adventure.

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