We are never too old to start a new chapter.

“I’ve always wanted to get as far as possible from the place where I was born. Far both geographically and spiritually. To leave it behind … I feel that life is very short and the world is there to see and one should know as much about it as possible. One belongs to the whole world, not just one part of it.”
― Paul Bowles

Making the dream a reality.

We all know the American Dream but what about the Spanish dream?  The American one gave all hope with its ideals of equality and freedom. Well, I know that I am moving closer to fulfilling my Spanish dream. This dream means my personal freedom and happiness rather than a grey and colourless one.

An outdoor life

Outdoor life is a natural consequence of sunny days. It pairs beautifully with sunshine. Life moves outdoors at every opportunity with this tolerant and beautiful weather. The streets of Spain stay active for long hours. Only a siesta seems to bring quiet.

Days are long in Spain. This outdoor life continues even when night falls. This is family life like no other. Babies in strollers, deep in a comfortable slumber at 11pm. Their parents slowly finish their cerveza and tapas at a local bar, gently pushing the slumbering infant. Their siblings race around a busy square, kicking a football, with no concern for tables or wine glasses. Outdoor living is an integral part of Spanish life.

Healthy lifestyle

I remember teaching in Seville and I was alarmed that my adolescent students rarely saw bed before midnight, at first. There again, before I sound sanctimonious, I also recall UK students telling me how they usually slept sometime after 3am. But not until they’d finished playing computer games and updated their social media status one more time. However, Spanish kids spend copious amounts of time outdoors. Adults and children socialise as one large community. Consequently, I know which lifestyle I consider the most healthy for mind and body. Outdoor living!

Siberian winter

This winter ultimately convinced me I wasn’t suited to the onslaught of this savagely cold weather. It wasn’t just one outburst of a near Siberian winter. It was three. Three! Each weekend the Met office warned us not to travel. So, I lived in PJs for what seemed forever. The third freezing event fell in what was officially Spring. It killed the daffodils. These were my one hope that warm weather was on its way. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the outdoors and sunshine. I couldn’t stop thinking about Spain.

English tea shops and coffee places despite their lavish, spectacularly tall, belly busting cakes, brought no joy. Everywhere was indoors. Everywhere was centrally heated to the temperature of a hot, inferno-like oven. Maybe this hothouse was an inviting escape from the artic blasts. Perhaps not. Unfortunately, just to get to the cafes I was compelled to layer up with at least several additional clothing items. I moved slowly as I was carrying the weight of winter clothes on my body. It was a gargantuan effort just to walk along the path. The path that had hidden dangers: snow, black ice and freezing rain. In the UK, the outdoors can be painful whereas in Spain, the outdoors is pleasure!

Simply outdoors

Inside the cafe, I was just sweaty and uncomfortable from the insulated layers of clothes and the intense heat. The whole idea of a relaxing coffee was scuppered by the feeling that I had contracted some type of fever with my clammy skin. The best solution was to strip off. So, I started to disengage my body from my clothes.. However, in a tiny English café, it was hard to find a place to deposit an arran jumper, scarf, hat, gloves, coat and possibly another jumper. In doing so, I made the place look like a jumble sale or TK Maxx.

As a result, I lost interest in the coffee and, more traumatically, the cake! Ultimately, cafe life in Spain was so much simpler. All I had to do was find an outdoor table, read the menu and sit comfortably and happy.

Thus, I pined for a café where I could sit outside throughout the year. I pined for outdoor living. This is a reason to be in Spain!

Marbella offers a plethora of activities to engage in.

Marbella is internationally renowned for its luxurious reputation and attracts visitors worldwide. This European gem has become a playground for the affluent and famous. Surprisingly, it also appeals to numerous Northern European families who decide to settle down permanently in this sunny paradise. Let’s explore the enticing attractions and benefits that Marbella provides to both its visitors and residents.

Situated on the southernmost point of Europe’s Costa del Sol in Spain, Marbella is widely acknowledged for its pleasant and consistent sunny climate throughout the year. While other delightful locations in southern Europe offer similar weather conditions, Marbella is a premier choice for vacationers and families seeking to establish a new life and pursue employment opportunities. Its popularity stems from various factors beyond the weather, making it a highly sought-after destination.

Marbella boasts a captivating cosmopolitan atmosphere, blending the charm of Spanish culture with a thriving ex-pat community. It provides a unique blend of traditional living and modern comforts, ensuring that all family members have their needs met. The city offers an impressive array of options, including top-notch education, a rich cultural heritage steeped in history, a bustling café scene, exquisite culinary experiences that satisfy even the most discerning palates, and many activities suitable for all ages. Let’s explore ten exciting things you can engage in while visiting Marbella.

Enjoying a day by the seaside

Regardless of the season, Marbella’s beaches are an integral part of the lifestyle, always accessible to residents and visitors alike. A beach excursion is particular with its remarkable 320 days of sunshine annually. Whether you seek to bask in the sun and take a refreshing dip in the Mediterranean Sea or savour the delectable Mediterranean cuisine served at beachfront chiringuitos (beach bars and restaurants), where daily fresh catches are the norm, spending a day at the beach is a year-round option.

Marbella offers an abundance of breathtaking beaches that cater to every preference. Both visitors and residents are privileged with a wide selection of chiringuitos to choose from. Whether you desire the vibrant and glamorous atmosphere favoured by the jet-set crowd or a serene and tropical ambience, the choice is yours. One thing is sure: the culinary offerings at these establishments, featuring fresh daily selections, are irresistible. 

El Casco Antiguo

Nestled in the city’s heart, Marbella’s historic Old Town, Casco Antiguo, is a true hidden treasure. Positioned centrally, it lies north of the bustling Avenida Ricardo Soriano; the main boulevard traverses Marbella and faces the charming La Alameda Park.

The Casco Antiguo, adorned with its charming, timeless architecture and labyrinthine cobblestone streets, exudes a picturesque allure. This enchanting district is brimming with unique boutique shops, vibrant art galleries, inviting bars, and delectable eateries. It is a captivating testament to Marbella’s rich history, with remnants spanning thousands of years.

At the heart of the Casco Antiguo lies Orange Square, a captivating Andalusian plaza adorned with vibrant orange trees, lush tropical plants, and blooming flowers. This enchanting square emanates a magical ambience that is both visually stunning and emotionally uplifting. The delicate fragrance of the orange trees wafts through the air, creating a romantic atmosphere. It is the perfect setting to relax and immerse yourself in the serene surroundings. Take a moment to sit in one of the traditional cafés, savour a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and observe the world bustling by.

The vibrant Casco Antiguo brims with captivating corners and intriguing discoveries waiting to be explored. Delve into its labyrinthine streets to uncover ancient ruins and immerse yourself in the rich cultural experience offered by a diverse selection of museums. Indulge your taste buds at various restaurants, ranging from exquisite fine dining establishments to hidden gems serving authentic tapas. As the night falls, the local bars come alive, bustling with activity well into the early morning hours.

La Alameda

Situated south of Marbella’s Old Town, across the main road, you’ll find the picturesque La Alameda Park. This charming park features a grand central fountain with exquisite Andalusian tiles, towering tropical plants, intricately designed mosaics that pay homage to Moorish heritage, and ornamental benches for relaxation.

La Alameda Park is a beloved retreat for residents and visitors, offering a serene oasis to unwind and recharge. It also serves as a focal point during the Feria de Marbella, the traditional Flamenco fair that draws crowds from near and far. Taking place around mid-June, coinciding with the San Bernabe festivities, the Feria transforms the park into a lively hub. It becomes adorned with BBQ stands, flowing beer and wine, and vibrant music filling the air. The park becomes a rich tapestry of people dressed in traditional Flamenco attire, joyfully dancing, indulging in delicious food, and sharing laughter.

Within the park, you’ll find one of Marbella’s iconic landmarks, Café Central Marbella. This esteemed café, known for its rich history, is among the oldest establishments in the area. It delights visitors with a delectable assortment of treats, including mouthwatering pastries, savoury snacks, sandwiches, and other culinary delights.

Paseo Marítimo

Running parallel to Marbella’s beaches is the Paseo Marítimo, a delightful beachside promenade. Strolling along this promenade allows you to appreciate the scenery, immerse yourself in the atmosphere, and savour Marbella’s magnificent sunsets. As the sun descends to the east, it paints the sky with shades of red, pink, and purple, casting a mesmerizing glow over the glistening sea and illuminating the silhouettes of Africa and Gibraltar. This enchanting and unparalleled vista is a trademark of Marbella’s coastline, which never fails to captivate and leaves you yearning for more.

The promenade presents a magnificent pathway that stretches across Marbella, connecting the city to Puerto Banus and extending further west to San Pedro. It offers a remarkable opportunity to relish the refreshing Mediterranean breeze and immerse oneself in breathtaking scenery, and it is open to the whole family, including pets. Many individuals opt to utilize the promenade for activities such as jogging, walking, or cycling through the three coastal towns of the Marbella region. Along the walk, one encounters a multitude of chiringuitos, restaurants, and cafés, providing perfect spots to pause, enjoy a refreshing beverage, grab a quick snack, or indulge in a satisfying meal.

Parque de la Constitución

Located near the city centre, the tranquil oasis of Parque de la Constitución is a short distance from the beach. This delightful park offers respite from the bustling city, boasting lush trees, vibrant flowers, and a dedicated children’s area. It also features an astronomic observatory, a cafeteria for refreshments, and an open-air auditorium that serves as a venue for opera performances, theatre productions, concerts, and various cultural events. Visiting Parque de la Constitución provides a beautiful opportunity to relax amidst nature and immerse yourself in the vibrant cultural scene of Marbella.

Avenida del Mar

Running parallel to Parque La Alameda and leading towards the seafront promenade, Avenida del Mar is a true haven for art enthusiasts. This charming avenue showcases a remarkable collection of original sculptures by Salvador Dali, proudly exhibited in the open air. The pedestrianized street offers ample seating o

For Foodies

Marbella is a haven for food enthusiasts, offering an abundance of culinary delights. With a wide array of options and access to fresh ingredients, Marbella is the ultimate destination for those who appreciate good food.

Marbella offers an extensive selection of delectable options, starting with an abundance of traditional Spanish tapas and the wholesome Mediterranean diet. Food is central to Spanish Mediterranean culture, reflecting a way of life. Indulge in the freshest catch of the day, delectable seafood dishes, and mouthwatering paella at one beachside chiringuitos. Explore the winding streets of the old town to discover charming restaurants serving Mediterranean and traditional cuisine, or visit the promenade for a diverse range of international dining choices. Marbella boasts a plethora of restaurants to cater to every budget and palate.

Shopping Fanatics

Marbella is a paradise for shopping enthusiasts. The city centre is brimming with artisan boutiques, charming gift shops, art and craft stores, local designer boutiques and trendy brands such as Zara, Mango, and Massimo Dutti. Heading north, on the city’s outskirts, you’ll discover the expansive La Cañada shopping mall, where a wide range of options awaits. The mall has something for everyone, from high-end couture boutiques to renowned brands like M&S, Footlocker, and Dorothy Perkins. Additionally, you’ll find a large food market, a diverse selection of restaurants, and various fast-food joints. Specialized stores like FNAC cater to specific interests, while designer furniture shops, health and beauty salons, and jewellery stores offer a comprehensive shopping experience. Whatever you’re seeking, you’re sure to find it in Marbella.

Family Activities

Marbella is renowned for skillfully juggling contradictions. Despite being synonymous with the lavish lifestyle and allure of southern Europe’s elite, Marbella also caters to various children’s entertainment options.

On the beachfront, you can find various activities for children, including a go-karting track, trampolines, video games, electric bikes and cars, a pool, children’s rides, and a beachside restaurant and bar offering kid-friendly food options.

For energetic youngsters seeking thrills, Aventura Amazonia awaits in the Elviria region, a mere 10-minute drive east of Marbella centre. This park guarantees endless enjoyment for both children and adults, featuring a variety of activities such as tree climbing, Tarzan-like swings, and challenging rope courses, all nestled amidst breathtaking natural surroundings.

Bike rentals and Segway tours have become increasingly popular for families, offering an enjoyable way to explore the city together while having fun.

If you’re open to venturing slightly beyond Marbella, you’ll discover exciting attractions just a 15-minute drive away. The Fuengirola Water Park and Bioparc Zoo offer delightful experiences. Continuing along the coast towards Malaga, you’ll find the Benalmadena Tivoli World, an amusement park, the Crocodile Park in Torremolinos, and, as you head towards Gibraltar, the Selwo Safari Park in Estepona. These destinations can be reached within a half-hour drive from the city.

Thanks to numerous reputable organizations, teenagers can access thrilling adventures along the coast. They can engage in activities such as scuba diving, quad-biking, exhilarating jeep safaris through the National Parks, horseback mountain treks, canyoning in the stunning gorges of the region, and engaging in paintball wars. These fantastic adventures cater to the adventurous spirit of teenagers.

inviting benches, allowing visitors to take a leisurely break and admire both the awe-inspiring sculptures and the breathtaking vista of the Mediterranean Sea.

Culture

While often overlooked, Marbella has a thriving cultural scene. The city has several theatres, art galleries, and museums, offering diverse artistic experiences. During the summer months, Marbella hosts a vibrant cultural program featuring concerts, dance performances, jazz festivals, and theatre productions, ensuring there is no shortage of entertainment options for residents and visitors alike.

Marbella boasts a variety of cultural gems worth exploring. The Black Box Theatre presents captivating Spanish and English plays catering to a diverse audience. For a unique experience, the Bonsai Museum showcases an extraordinary collection of Bonsai Trees, making it one of Europe’s most significant collections. The Museum of Spanish Contemporary Engravings is a treasure trove of artistic masterpieces, housing works by renowned Spanish artists like Picasso, Miró, Tapies, and Chillida. Just a stone’s throw away from Marbella, the Sammer Gallery in Puerto Banús stands out as one of Spain’s most prominent modern art galleries, offering a mesmerizing display of contemporary artworks.

During the summer months, Marbella comes alive with the iconic Starlite Festival. This renowned event offers a dazzling array of entertainment, featuring concerts by famous music artists, captivating fashion shows, compelling art exhibitions, cinema premieres, and a prestigious charity gala. The festival occurs in a remarkable open-air theatre in the northern part of Marbella, providing a genuinely enchanting setting to revel in extraordinary performances beneath the starry night sky.

¡Hasta pronto!

Flying back to Spain, Grimble considered their mercifully short UK trip. She was sat in a middle plane seat because she refused to fork out an additional 12€ to sit with her beloved G. He was sat 20 rows back, enjoying the tranquillity of 3 hours grimbleless. He had her iPad and headphones, committing Grimble to a turgid 3 hours of middle seat 2 sided neighbourly chit chat.

Grimble bore her lot patiently as she was partly to blame. She had left G to his own packing. They’d decided not to avail themselves of priority boarding or luggage. Two days of life was in two rucksacks. G had successfully packed underwear, T shirts, his iPad, a sweater and a jacket. Grimble had packed similar, minus any woollens or coats. It was bloody June after all! She’d downloaded Killing Eve series 2 and was ready for her 3 hours of solo travel.

At the airport, G declared his lack of headphones and nothing to watch. He looked forlorn and that expression always brought out the sense of sacrifice in Grimble. Soon a contented G was armed with her headphones and IPad. In his defence, as Grimble shivered on the cold, wet, dismal train platform in Cambridge, he did offer to share his coat or sweater. This was how grown up relationships worked. Clearly, he would have had to remove them from his warm body first.

They were sat apart and going home. G was on episode 6 and on threat of torture were he to reveal any spoilers. The conclusion on the UK? It was fucking expensive and fucking cold.

Wine and a cortijo

After the ferry crossing from hell, began the new life from heaven. This could be taken quite literally as the Grimble’s Spanish cortijo was located quite high up a dusty path. From 2 of their 4 terraces, the sea was just visible. Each terrace was in the process of being named. Grimble’s current location was the Tiki Tiki terrace or was it the Beach Terrace: the names had yet to be settled and their christening toasted with wine.

There had been wine. Naturally, as this was Spain and, if Grimble’s memory served her well (though retirement was putting a strain on it), red wine was an essential on the Mediterranean diet. They had contemplated retaining Keto. Then, one of their elderly Spanish neighbours presented them with a large bag of fresh oranges. Grimble spied the juicer. She immediately decided fuck this lack of vitamin C shit, and juiced away. It had served its purpose. A dress size was lost along with her tits. It was now time to modify.

Salad season

The visit to The supermarkets had presented many new delights. It was salad season. To be fair, it was always salad season. As the area was near to a relatively large ex pat community, in between the display of lettuce and cucumber were Brussels sprouts. Clearly, the Spanish had confused beansprouts with Brussels when scheduling their location. The price relegated this UK farting delicacy to memory. At this point, their diet had become a hybrid of Keto, Paleo and Mediterranean. However, the addition of a very long 12 portion Viennetta ice cream block meant that Grimble renamed their diet: the one meal a day diet.

The wine aisle was like a bargain sweet store for adults. The prices were terrifyingly cheap. They had 2 wine racks that needed something as they looked so forlorn empty. The easiest way to select was to decide a budget and an attractive label. No single bottle was going above 4€. However, where the 70% discount applied to the purchase of a second, there were some encouraging purchases. Their starting budget was a flexible 3€. They did basket 2€ and 2.50€ bottle just to sample with the view that Grimble could always cook with it. As a litre box of cooking Vino tinto was only 99c, this was a bit counter productive.

Their Mediterranean, one meal a day, Paleo diet was working well. They ate their main meals at the relevant Spanish times of 3pm and then a light snack around 10pm. The glasses of wine were largely quaffable though anything less than 3€ was consigned to stock making. The label of Little Red Riding Hood should have been a sign, that just like the wolf in granny’s clothes, the bottle’s contents were not as good as they promised.

Size matters

They paid £3 for olives they expected to get for free. Their meals were tasty enough but Grimble had to wonder how diminutive a Breton chicken actually was when she received what the restaurant claimed to be half of one. Even with a voucher for a free bottle of wine in a French restaurant chain, they still parted with £50. It was lucky that the wine was free as the price ranged from £5 to £8 and you had to decide how much you wanted in your glass before they’d even pour it. Weights and bloody measures. A country confined by wine size regulations.

They’d passed by a Spanish restaurant with a Menu del Dia costing £14.50. At the shock of this, Grimble had taken to social media with a photo. Her Spanish friends did not know where to start with their chagrin. The price, the starter of 1 solitary croqueta, spelt incorrectly or offering breakfast food of churros and chocolate as a desert. It was an offence on every level. It was the equivalent of a restaurant in Spain offering a roast dinner, minus gravy and serving porridge as pudding.

Heading to Nevada

They arrived early at Nevada with only the cafes open. This had been the plan. She knew that a fed G would have shopping mall stamina.

They made a pledge not to be diverted but to focus on the need for swimwear. A one stop shop: Primark, Spain. Given all inclusive check in was 2pm, with a bit of wiggle room, this gave them 3 hours there.

G had a love:hate relationship with the big P. He accepted it was the cheapest place to purchase decent shorts and disposable T shirts. He refused to carry their bags though, meaning Grimble trailed behind him with a large, self destruct paper bag in tow. It was a small price to pay in Grimble’s opinion.

Grimble knew Primark hangers rarely displayed the correct product or size.

Labelling meant nothing. Extra large could be anywhere from size 20 to 6. The trick was to look at the item and to brave the changing room queue.

After 2 hours, they were done. They were well within schedule and battling with a large paper bag, they departed the store and mall.

Not quite all inclusive

They pulled up outside the massive Bahia Palace Resort which overshadowed the tiny cove. The parking garage was not part of the all inclusive deal, so Grimble checked them in and agreed to the extra 9€.

At reception, there was a number of additions to the all inclusive deal: drinks packages, WiFi charges, spa access. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be quite the bargain. They had their lunch included but service ended at 3pm. Check in was from 2pm which left them an hour to park, find their room and freshen up.

The room was not quite what Grimble believed she had booked. It was minus a balcony. She insisted that they lug all their possessions back to reception so she could argue. This made their lunch time challenge more dramatic. Reception suddenly turned Andalusian ignoring any attempt at dispute. The receptionist encouraged them to go for lunch as they were against the ticking clock.

They agreed. The food was adequate and, at 2.20pm, still plentiful. Drinks were costly: 2€ for a 30c bottle of water and 2.50€ for the smallest shandy ever. Over lunch, they decided that room protest was futile. It would waste time for no result. They had to accept that as overnighters they were not worthy of a balcony or terrace.

All inclusive plus

Grimble tried to purchase a drinks package. 7.50€ for a bottle of wine and 2 waters but these drinks were for the room only. She decided that buying a cheap red to drink in a balcony less room was too sad to contemplate. Instead she placed the 20€ deposit for 2 beach towels which, given their tatty state, she should have been paid to dispose of.

Returning to the room, G was already in the depth of siesta. This negated his need to purchase swimwear. Leaving his towel behind, she set off to locate the adult only sun terrace. This tiny terrace was packed with people trying to avoid, like the plague, anything under the age of 14. Given that the only guests they’d seen arrive were 2 Saga coach parties this seemed quite futile.

Grimble looked longingly from the noisy adult terrace to the deserted beach and the Chirunguito were the sea lapped the tables. Her need to escape was overwhelming. She decided G and her would avail themselves of a sunset by the beach. She was financially savvy enough to know they’d need to be back in time for their inclusive dinner buffet.

They now been in Spain for just over 3 months. It definitely felt like home. They’d taken on the Spanish bureaucracy challenge. So far, so good.

In need of a NIE

G’s NIE was applied for and received within a week of arrival. Grimble already hers, sort of though, carelessly, she’d lost the official documentation. The NIE was more than just a number. It was evidence of existence. Without it, you couldn’t even purchase a SIM card for the phone. Grimble had the number just not the paper. In a country where paperwork had more bearing on life than the Catholic Church this could present issues.

Donde?

The only remaining dispute was which area Grimble had lived In Sevilla, previously. Despite a photocopy of the lost documents clearly stating Alameda and Grimble confirming it, the woman denied any such location existed. The only Alameda was in Malaga, no other existed. Grimble realised it was futile to argue further even though the Sevilla Alameda was known throughout Europe as party central Andalucia and succumbed to the receptionist’s greater wisdom on the barrios of Andalusian cities.

She claimed the town hall would email them when they could collect the papers but Grimble knew this was falsehood. Two weeks later, she used Messenger again and was told of course the forms were ready.

Overall, the official documents had been less onerous than anticipated. Grimble still had to get a new residencia card with a new address. However, even a trip to the police station to do a denuncia, denouncing herself and her stupidity losing vital documents, had been mercifully swift. Her date to meet officials to reissue the papers had been set.

Perplexed by the padron

The Padron from the town hall in Canillas was paperwork challenge number two. Canillas was their district. Why wouldn’t it be? It was further away than the town halls of Viñuela, Velez Malaga or Alcaucin and up a monster hill. It stood to reason it would be here. The Padron was the equivalent of the electoral roll. Being listed allowed the town hall to apply for additional funds for the ever increasing population. That seemed advantageous for all and should have been straightforward.

In the pouring, torrential rain, armed with a poly pocket of all the paperwork they possessed , they arrived at the town hall. The woman behind the desk immediately tried to thwart their plans. She claimed they needed their landlady (currently working in China) with them. Grimble stood fast to no avail. She’d checked the government website. Not that the official rules and regulations actually necessarily applied in small town Andalucia.

Social media everywhere

She stormed out to the local cafe, where G and Grimble had a restorative coffee. Deftly, Grimble commenced a social media Spanish dialogue with Canillas town hall.

The faceless Messenger discussion tried to back up the receptionist. Grimble was having none of it. She wasn’t descending that cunting hill, now akin to a waterfall, without the sodding Padron. She stood her ground, despite the evident language barrier and mentioned Madrid, official forms, the fact that they were still EU citizens. There was a brief Andalucian digression on the subject of work opportunities in China and they were told to return to reception.

Back at the town hall, the receptionist acted like she’d never seen them before. She took all their paperwork and processed the Padron with a smile.

Location

They were half way through their holiday. Grimble was pleased. Bags for men had been bought. G had become the proud owner of two from one market visit.

This purchase had not been without some issues. After their trip to the shopping centre and market, there had been an impasse of sorts. This was not due to G being truculent or diffident. It was due to their remote location: Comares.

Comares was stunning. It was originally an Arabic hilltop fort. It’s white village outline could be seen for miles…and miles. In fact, it was approximately a mile and a half in the air. They had observed its stellar height on their first day when Satnav lady was desperate to journey them down some dirt track, seeming in the opposite direction to this lofty hilltop village. Perhaps this was because she was all too aware of the journey to follow.

They travelled the winding, bending, tortuous road ever upwards. They noted the lack of crash barrier at prime hairpin bends and their ears popped. As they arrived at their holiday rental, they felt dizzy from the thinness of the air. Comares could not be denied it’s status as a hilltop fortress. After this hill was sky. There was no other way back than down the treacherous death defying road.

As a result, all road trips had to be evaluated against a day lazing by the pool. Often the pool won outright, without discussion. Any trip taken had to be of value. There was no purposeless ambling from Comares. They might decide to stagger uphill on foot to the square for a coffee, beer or flamenco night. They would not use the car without good reason.

Good enough reason not to move

Good enough reason to climb to town?

Locating.

G had set his sights on purchasing bags at Torre del Mar Thursday market which luckily coincided with a trip to Sevilla. Their planned trip to Sevilla was no less barking mad as leaving Comares, with it’s recent August temperature of 47. However, they were not planning to stay in Sevilla. The sole purpose was to collect their amiga, the Emster. Charitably they were releasing her from the hellish Sevillian heat for a week of Comares mountain retreat.

After several hours of morning phaffing and dawdling, they left Comares at 11.30. Grimble knew this was not a good time as they would hit Torre at prime beach and shopping hour, just prior to siesta. Grimble, ever knowledgeable about the vagaries of Spanish life, was not far wrong. There was no where to park despite circling the town several times. Huge 4×4 crammed themselves into spaces where a Fiat 500 would have struggled to negotiate. They could almost smell the scent of leather man bags, they were so close. But, finally, it was not to be.

With limited options available, they decided to quit the seaside and depart immediately for the frying pan of Europe. The motorway journey was uneventful, hot and deserted. This was the joy of travelling at siesta. They briefly discussed a short detour at the Sevilla Airport Outlet Mall. But, as the temperature rose steadily through the 30s and into the low 40s, they swiftly dismissed this ridiculous suggestion.

In theory, they were going to bundle the Emster into the car and drive straight out of Sevilla. It might be a beautiful city at other times off the year but in August it was the epitome of a living hell. However, the Emster was not to be rushed or, usually, even ready. After more than a decade in Spain, she had mastered the slow, steady pace of life that meant nothing was hurried. She had fond farewells to say to her mad dog and evil bird before leaving. Plus she still had to finalise packing, eat lunch and double checking her travel arrangements.

By 6pm, they were finally on their way. Making sure that every journey counted, they called off at the large Torre del Mar supermarket for essentials: milk, eggs, chocolate milk, crab sticks, cava and various other irrelevant items. It was dark when they ascended the steep path to Comares. It was hard to say if this was better or worse. It was simply dark and dangerous.

Located

Planning the purchase of a man bag with other pursuits was not easy. Grimble and G had forsaken shopping trips as they were desperately trying to avoid clutter. They wanted to go on a pedalo on Lake Viñuela not shop til they dropped. This was a great way to spend two hours, pedalling for ten minutes and spending the remaining time jumping off the pedalo and safely floating in a life jacket. It hadn’t required a great deal of exertion. All thoughts of man bags were easily forgotten as they floated aimlessly around the still lake waters.

Again utilising the car away from Comares scenario, they visited a supermarket to replenish cava, which seemed to evaporate in the altitude, buy ice pops and cheese.

Their next trip was Torre to join a group heading to the Malaga Feria. This was an overnighter. They departed Torre at 1pm, in theory, though this was a Spanish trip. The coach finally pulled out 30 minutes late. They left Malaga nine hours later. With G still awaiting his ideal man bag, Grimble found herself laden with an awful lot of stuff to cover a protracted adventure. She muttered and cussed to no avail. She also advised that this would be the last such packing of her bag.

Malaga Feria was fun, busy and sweaty. They were able to drink for free as each caseta enticed them in with free beer, tinto verano and paella. Their group was formed from a salsa bar and they were not afraid to take over any caseta and dance salsa to any music. Despite one dance looking suspiciously like the Hokey Cokey, they were rewarded with tequila shots and lots of applause. By 5pm they were half cut. By 7pm, they were hungry and flagging. At 9pm, G, Emster and Grimble had forsaken the others and were drinking strong coffee outside of the Feria.

The trip back should have been quiet given the exhaustion. However, this was Spain and the return was far from silent. Shouting Spanish ladies conducted full conversations from one end of the coach to the other with barely time to breathe. Staggering through fatigue and tentinitous, they made their way to the B and B and bed.

The next day, there was a halfhearted attempt to buy a man bag. G adorned himself with a decent leather bag, slung gamely over his shoulder but he was too tired to commit. They left Torre vowing to return on Thursday for the market. The market which had become like a holy shrine for all things man bag. It was as if this was the only place a man bag of quality could be found.

And that’s what happened. They set off earlier. They found parking. Within the hour, and after a coffee, two bags were bartered for and bought. One brown leather, the other black. They each had a variety of flaps and pockets.

There was one disconcerting moment when Grimble seemed to be carrying her bag and the carrier bag containing G’s bags. However, another café and coffee later, G’s bag was filled most of his items. Grimble would continue to find odd bits here and there for the next few days. He carried it like a man. Well like a British man. Which meant that there was some self conscious moments, a little grumbling and a defiance that stated that neither bag would be used or even seen in Blighty.

In the intervening days, the bags had a chequered life. G filled them with stuff then decided that he wasn’t taking a bag. This resulted his items of importance, namely toothpicks and tissues, being left behind. Grimble grittily held her position. She would not refill her own bag with G’s clutter. It was a war of attrition. Bag training was even more complex than puppy training, it seemed.

Man bag nil: beach bag 1

Grimble had to be very careful how she introduced the topic of a man bag to G. If she simply announced it, G would spiral into inconsolable misery. He would refuse to leave the pool or have a siesta that lasted well into the night. All Grimble’s devious wiles would be required to make this search seem fun and worthwhile.

G had shown a level of unexpected cooperation. He had communicated his needs in terms of a hypothetical bag. Grimble worried that his description might result in a fantasy bag. He itemised: pockets that opened easily, not too big or heavy, could carry a phone, iPad and stuff. It had to be in leather. He also said ideally he’d require two.

Grimble had nipped herself to make certain that she wasn’t on siesta or in a drunken haze at this declaration of a double purchase. The bag would be needed in black and brown to allow for maximum accessorising. This was a hopeful sign.

Their first foray into man bag territory was El Ingenio, a monster shopping mall by Velez. This name, roughly translated, meant ingenuity or wit. This seemed apt given Grimble would need both to keep G entertained and focused in a shopping centre. She motivated him with the idea that they needed a fan for the apartment. Air Con used energy insanely and it made them feel like they lived in a freezer. A manly electrical item would be enough to entice G into El Ingenio. Once inside, if there were coffee breaks and gadget shops, he would not complain too much.

G took charge of all things fan like. In the colossal Eroski supermarket, G located a plethora of suitable fans at a good price. However, they had only been in the mall for 10 minutes and, for G, his work here was done. Grimble showed an unnatural interest in large screen TVs in order to prolong this shopping adventure and keep G busy.

In reality, El Ingenio was a bit of a disappointment. The shops had a rebejas of 70% and clothes that no sane person would wear. Dunnes was filled with overpriced tat. Who, in their right mind, would purchase Irish tea at 5€ for 160 bags? Even the coffee shops were far too busy with abandoned men looking forlornly into their third café con leche.

In terms of man bags, the only offering was a discounted PVC one in Zara Man. Grimble showed it to G to assess interest. He grunted disappointment. Unlike a woman shopper who will touch and try on just for the hell of it, he would not even entertain it. Grimble was not certain if he was selective or uncommitted to a man bag.

Grimble realised that, if the current bag ownership remained unchanged, her bags did not have the space needed for a sunbathing trip. This actual trip consisted of a 10m stroll from the apartment to pool. However, it still required a big bag to house all the usual stuff plus two towels, puzzle books to keep G occupied, cool drinks and different factor suncreams. As they were about to depart El Ingenio, Grimble spied a bag shop with a sale. She emerged seconds later with a beach bag of immense proportions and a cheap price.

As the drove up the terrifying mountain pass back to Comares, Grimble pondered on how a hunt for G a man bag resulted in her owning yet another seasonal bag that had no function outside of Spain.

She had higher hopes of the next trip. A local market at Trappiche. It claimed it was artisan and crafty. She convinced G a trip here would give them a taste of local life.

The location was unusual. It was set alongside a disused airstrip: though planes landing and taking off suggested otherwise. The venue housed the market and weddings. As a result, it was a quite ornate affair. There were white cloth draped chairs, marquees and gazebos, chandeliers and artificial grass bedecked with fake rose archways. In between this opulence were a variety of stalls selling anything and everything.

There was the ubiquitous holiday clothing stall where Grimble got more short season wares. A local farmer selling garlic and eggs which Grimble also decided were essential items. Then there was a very animated and jolly man selling funeral plans. G and Grimble rarely went on holiday to be reminded of their own mortality. Next to him was a chap who would advise you on how best he could spend your pension.

Grimble wasn’t sure if there was a route they should follow as clearly pension thieving chap should come before burial bloke. This market was certainly eccentric and clearly not marketed at Spanish folk. There was another offering to set up TVs to provide the best of British. Then, there was another selling miscellaneous manly things: small tools, torches and stuff in metal. He did sell one man bag: a canvas one.

G had shown an interest in the general stuff on display here. Just as Grimble thought she might sneak a man bag into conversation, she was blindsided by a man modelling this very bag. Sadly, this man was not aspirational. He was a lumbering hairy bloke whose breakfast was still clearly visible on both his beard and T shirt. G looked horrified at the combination of man bag and hairy beast man.

This was not good and it would take some effort on Grimble’s part to separate this memory for G. As a temporary solution, she located a nice Irish lady that gave G a decent 20 minute massage. This seemed to have the desired effect and G left Trappiche market slightly less traumatised. This hunt was proving to be more complex than anticipated.

G and Grimble return to Spain

Grimble had been remiss. It had been many months since her last update. Her day job did not help her creative spirit. There was something about an excel spreadsheet that made her soul die. However, work was not the whole story…

The insanely hot UK summer had meant long weekends languishing by the boat with a succession of BBQs and flowing cava. This self induced haze had not helped Grimble’s power with words. Finally, the weather broke and there was the torrential downpour. Gusts of of 50 mph wind made the serenity of the mooring very dangerous.

Grimble had been forced to tackle a low flying wooden table intent on barging her into the Thames. Matrix like, she belted the vicious table from its trajectory as she side swiped a metal chair with her thigh. Sporting several bruises, she realised a UK summer was a dangerous thing. There was a definitive need of an escape to the safety of Spain. The only hazard there was the threat of record breaking heat.

In England, discussions of record breaking heat rarely exceeded a desultory mid 30 range. In Southern Spain an acceptable norm: an almost clement daily temperature. Now, even the BBC reported that Southern Europe was about to get volcano hot into the high 40s. Grimble recalled melting in Sevilla at 44 degrees. She considered these few digits more as almost irrelevant. Anything above 40 was simply fucking hot as hell.

However, G and Grimble had selected their holiday wisely. They had opted for the hills east of Malaga. This was an area they hoped to relocate to. This trip was as much a test of local facilities rather than merely a cava, tapas and sun seeking holiday. Here, temperatures rarely exceeded 33. In England, this would result in a cessation of all public transport, A and E filled to capacity with sunstroke victims and the local CoOp having no ice for the foreseeable future. In Spain, this was functioning weather.

Grimble had taken charge of all the organisation. She had looked at locations en route, documentation and holiday cash.

With almost no time to spare, she had ordered a Halifax infinity card. The lovely, reliable Martin Lewis had advised her to do so. Grimmy loved the advice of Martin Lewis. He was a gem of a man. He took on Facebook, irritating PPI wankers and even looked cross in front of the saintly Philip Scofield and Holly W. Then came a nail biting few days waiting for the card’s arrival. The Halifax taunted G and Grimble with texts to indicate it had been posted and it would arrive within ten days.

It arrived Wednesday morning, two days prior to the EDT of Friday afternoon. So relieved was Grimble that she threw caution to the wind and plans to the recycling. A few deft moments on her iPad and she advised G to gird his loins and sort out his rucksack. They were leaving that afternoon! The were now booked on a lunchtime Le Shuttle on Thursday. Not that this spontaneity was entirely unexpected for Grimble. She had forced G to address his packing on Tuesday night. Ignoring his grumbling of far too fucking early, she had advised him that he would thank her efficiency later.

A note on the packing here. G’s grumbling about being forced to pack was somewhat inaccurate. His packing regime consisted of him lay on the bed as Grimble presented him with various shirts, shorts and other miscellaneous items. He then regally stated yay or nay to these offerings. Whereupon, Grimble rolled and deposited them in a case.

Before the righteous among you demand Grimble cease this level of servitude, consider this. Left to his own devices, G’s packing was unpredictable at best. Briefly, Grimble left the room and then unpacking in Spain discovered irregularities. Neatly tucked in the bottom of the case was a black cashmere jumper and a navy fleece. “Why?” demanded Grimble. “Just on the off chance,” retorted G. The off chance of what thought Grimble. The off chance Satnav lady went temporarily rogue and directed them to Sweden ? Which, incidentally, was also suffering from an unexpected heatwave. Grimble patiently bit her tongue, almost in reality as opposed to literally, at what she had to endure. The winter items remained unpacked in the case.

However, the biggest packing nightmare was the Grimble bag of holiday essentials: documentation, cash in two currencies, cards, licences etc. The Grimble bag had long been a point of contention. Even outside of holiday time, G liked to carry light. Trips to pubs, restaurants or even the boat, consisted of G being item free and Grimble shouldering a bag of epic proportions. At points, so heavy was the bag, that Grimble’s gait resembled Quasimodo. Her chant of the bag, the fucking bag did recall Quasimodo’s bells’ speech.

This year’s bag was particularly stuffed. It exceeded even Grimble’s capacity. Each item that G requested seemed to be located in its Tardis like interior. The usual suspects were present. On request, G was delivered with a toothpick, tissues and loose change. Seemingly, to challenge its never ending contents, G decided that his lips were chapped. A short forage later and a lip balm with SPF factor was located. Rising to the challenge, G then decided his skin was dry. There was a rustling and as if the bag was a magician’s hat, Grimble produced a small tube of extra strength moisturiser.

Ultimately, Grimble knew that this situation was reaching critical bag overload. G continued to pass her more and more items to hold. Lighter, phone, glasses to name a few. She endeavoured to retain bag organisation but the system was imploding. At restaurants, before she could even view a menu, half the insides of her bag had been deposited on the table. Toothpicks, needle and thread, plasters for inevitable blisters cluttered her space before G’s glasses could be located. All his items frustratingly seemed to worm themselves out of Grimble’s hand reach.

There was one request too far and a brave or foolhardy G commented on lack of organisation. At which point, Grimble menacingly looked up from the depths of the bag’s interior. With a darkened and furrowed expression, she revealed her inner thoughts. Bag contents required sharing. They were about to venture to Southern Spain. Everyone knew that here man bags were both de rigueur and on point. In 6 months time, G would need to be adept with such a bag. Therefore, he needed to practice now. She did not expect him to take it truck driving in Swindon. There his rucksack would suffice. But it was going to be the way of all future holidays and, very soon, life.

With this plan firmly entrenched in Grimble’s brain, the hunt for a man bag had begun.

G and Grimble locate Nirvana

Hunting season over

After a year of hunting the Costas, meeting an eccentric range of relocators and paella pensioners, Grimble and G had yet to settle on somewhere they’d both agree to love and live in. They’d tried every season and attempted a range of resorts until they reached a decision.

The Costa Blanca had been discounted almost immediately as they’d driven past Benidorm. In addition, where they’d stayed had residents so old that some seemed to be on the verge of fossilisation.

The Costa Alhazar was a clear contender. Peñiscola was stunning with a castle and soft sand. Vinaros was practical as a thriving port town. However, as the summer sun distanced itself, Grimble and G had found their thoughts more critical. Numerous people informed them that this coast line became a spectre in winter. Everyone left and it could be a lonely place. Plus airports were not exactly nearby, unless they counted the white elephant airport of Castellon which seemingly had not been built for actual flights.

Costa del Sol…finally?

The Costa del Sol had always held a special place for both G and Grimble. G had spent a few years there as a young blood doing various tasks in the 1980s. From what he elucidated to Grimble, he’d spent quite a bit of time in discotecas no doubt dressed in the brutal fashion of the time. It was somewhat vague and, as he was a Cockney geezer, Grimble decided to leave prying and just envisage him in tight speedos or a white suit.

For Grimble, the Costa del Sol had been the escape route from the blistering heat of Sevilla in summer. It was also a chance for her and her mates to eat passable Indian food, acceptable Thai and shop at the ridiculously over priced Spainsburys for items they could really live without.

The people watching was entertaining and one happy memory was of a woman rather pissed and staggering down Fuengi prom, grasped onto her bloke, with her exceptionally short skirt tucked into her knickers. Sadly her knickers were G strings (no relation to Grimble’s G) and the abundant naked flesh wasn’t an image anyone could unsee.

This area had a sense of nostalgia and romance for G and Grimble. It was their first time away together. They’d booked two weeks starting in a lovely sea front hotel. They were on a top floor with a magnificent view. To maximise this balcony vista, Grimble had suggested lunch of her own creation there. She’d offered G bread and cheese and was decidedly put out when he claimed it reminded him of prison food. As he’d never been an inmate, Grimble found his comment churlish. They ate out.

However, much as this coast held memories, Grimble struggled with the heavy commercial nature of it and it’s wall to wall party people.

Taste the Costa

Exploring this whole sweep of coast seemed their only option. They spent time in Conil. A wonderful low key Spanish beach town with a wide expanse of beach. It had history being the site of the battle of Trafalgar. It had charm. The only disadvantage was the Atlantic location. With that ocean came strong wind. They often departed the beach looking like they’d been rendered.

Rota was briefly talked about. Rather quaint and lively too, it was a possible choice. However, the huge naval Base which dominated the town wasn’t quite to Grimble’s taste. It gave rise to a male drinking culture especially when ships from the UK or USA moored up.

Then there was autumn in Nerja. It had a decent vibe. Once again their total commitment to relocation was tempered by a lack of beach, a predominance of English shops and Urbanizations that stretched for miles. These housing estates were odd. Built into hills, and filled with elderly Nordic people they seemed disconnected from the Spanish life of the town. Although, Nerja had stayed a likely possible along with Peñiscola, they both hit about 80% of the G and Grimble judgement spots.

Benahavis triumphs

The municipality of Benahavis had been booked the way that Grimble booked everything: well situated and exclusive. They had booked Javier’s one bedroomed apartment, one hundred metres from the sea.

Grimble had always claimed that when they found Nirvana they would know. Within 24 hours of arrival in Torre, their conversation turned to a life there or in the hills nearby. It was sudden and mutual and quite surprising.

Why Benahavis?

Why indeed? As they reflected on their time there, there’d been inauspicious moments. Javier’s friend Antonio offered to collect them from Malaga airport as the late evening flight made public transport impossible. He didn’t do this out of charity and some euros changed hands though he was significantly cheaper than a taxi service. And more lethal.

Given the formula one nature of the average Spanish taxi driver, this was impressive. G took a front seat and endured a white knuckle ride where Antonio weaved lanes with mad abandon and cussed drivers who had the temerity not to use lights at 22.30.

Antonio guided them round the apartment and stressed the self locking door on the balcony. Two nights later, G recalled this as he shivered in the 2am chill trying, and failing for an hour, to alert his spark out Grimble as to his plight and rescue him. G also realised that water on the parquet Spanish floors could be hazardous as he exited the bathroom at some speed and performed a most splendid example of a break dance for Grimble. This included several bum rotations, a strange but edifying leg kick and a resting position that would have excelled on Strictly Come Dancing.

Even the weather was inclement. It varied. There were sunny days with breeze blasts so strong that their stroll down the promenade (allegedly Europe’s finest) became a wind accelerated power walk with Grimble’s little legs scampering alongside the striding G. Then there was rain, torrential bloody rain, which formed mini lakes around the apartment and did not support the wearing of flip flops. Instead of languishing miserably in the apartment, they cleared off to a local immense shopping mall, El Ingenio, where rain coats were purchased.

The future looks Marbella.

Now with a place in mind, a date was set…a date in the very near future. Suddenly, the clouds of doom, grey and misery were lifted from Grimble. She felt such contentment that G nearly had to drag her by the ankles back to UK. They had a plan!

4. Siesta & mañana: from rat race to no race.

Lifestyle

There’s really no contest when it comes to a Spanish lifestyle. Forget time obsessed Germans, workaholic Brits, Scandinavians spending half a year in the dark and snow. Spain has lifestyle just right with siesta and mañana.

Other nations may mock a country where afternoons are spent in slumber and repose. But, trust me, don’t knock it until you have tried it. Even Spanish people will try to claim that siesta is now a thing for the elderly. If that is so, and I very much doubt this, as shops, banks and services in Spain all cease for a lengthy afternoon sojourn, I am content to be classed as elderly to embrace this lifestyle.

A perfect siesta. A perfect lifestyle

So what constitutes the perfect siesta? Firstly, it doesn’t have to include a coma like sleep. In fact, it might just be quiet, personal time, possibly lay down on the bed, emptying the head of work, stress, noise and social media. I’ve paid good money, and spent many an hour, for a British counsellor to suggest I adopt something similar in UK to prevent my heart racing with stress and suppress the murderous thoughts that I have towards my co-workers.

Here in Spain there’s no need to employ a lifestyle coach to advise on something that is patently obvious. Saving some time to concentrate on me isn’t selfish: it is necessary for mental well being. No wonder the Spanish population are near the top when it comes to longevity.

G and Grimble have a brief interlude in Blighty

Gilbert Grunt vs Grimble

In a ideal world, Grimble would have liked to have cut her own grass but this mooring had no power and she only had a set of shears. She could have purchased a scythe or a sheep but neither would have been as proficient as humans with a petrol mower. So, begrudgingly, she paid them the annual fee of £50. What made G and Grimble different to all the other boaters was that they actually sailed their boat…a lot. The Gilbert Grunt boat wankers didn’t particularly sail but they did seem to reside there. In fact, the only time they’d been seen sailing, they oversteered their mooring and anchor hanging off the bow, they effectively speared their neighbour’s boat like a kebab. Their authority clearly didn’t extend to actual sailing. What was evident was that they were used to having the whole 500 foot mooring to themselves as most boat owners bought their sailing craft and then let it languish in the water, unattended and unloved.

Along came the Grimbles, accompanied by friends, and loved the whole boating thing. They had BBQs, camping trips, picnics like they were in an Enid Blyton story. They always incorporated a good playlist which they happily sang along to. The boat wankers had a guitar to which they strummed indecipherable folk sounding music. There could have been an uneasy peace and a mutual tolerance of folk versus Sinatra but these Gilbert Grunts had to stamp authority and when Grimble continued to ignore them, they tried another method. They complained to the mooring manager. Apparently, Grimble once kept them awake with a powerful rendition of ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ at 22.30. Three weeks later, they erected a huge marque, several portaloos and camper vans for some sort of shit folky Glasto but Grimble just ignored their constructions, knowing that weekend in June had a severe storm warning which was revenge enough, especially as the weather delivered what it promised.

Grimble fury

However, as mooring renewal approached and, despite it being mid winter and not exactly boating season, the Gilbert Grunts sent several January texts to request the following summer’s gardening fee. Grimble responded politely that all mooring fees would be settled in due course. However, when the mooring invoice arrived by post, the manager added a note about tidying the area and there was another letter from the Gilbert Grunts requesting the fucking money once again. Grimble saw red. The mooring manager had issued her private address to these boat wankers. Plus, he’d the affront to demand they tidied a water logged, inaccessible mooring when he’d left dismantled jetties everywhere and, more dramatically, he’d abandoned a bloody boat in a farmers field. Her immediate thoughts were, “Fuck this shit!”

When Grimble got into a fury, there was little that could stop her. As G slept after a long work night, she contacted another mooring right by a pub and arranged a viewing and reserved a space. It was twice the price but it had a pub, and therefore pub toilets, a summer festival, their own jetty and an awesome garden. With their Spain trip taking a week of time, and the old mooring invoice due the last weekend of February, they had one opportunity to move the boat: the final February weekend before the UK was being plunged into an Artic Winter. Her decision to move moorings would be communicated to the manager in a scathing and savage letter posted straight after they’d shifted their boat.

Termination

Thus, accompanied by their friend CB, who’d assumed she was having a weekend of prosecco and PJs, and all dressed like Scott embarking on his trip to the Pole, they waded through fields, past the abandoned boat, to their mooring. It was cold and breezy and not conducive sailing conditions. They were amazed to see the Gilbert Grunts aboard their own boat. Bloody hell thought Grimble. She knew from their letter that they resided in Stroud, which was marginally less of a shit hole than Swindon, but no one would want to be on a small summer cruiser in this weather, unless they were fucking insane, which sort of explained it. There was no communication but there was close observation of the Grimbles. It looked like the Grimbles were finally compliant, tidying up the mooring when actually they were buggering off. Smugly, Grimble knew she had dedicated an entire paragraph of her termination letter to the Grunts.

They loaded their boat with their bits and bobs. They endeavoured to stuff a pop up tent, that had never fully popped down into a large storage box. As G attempted to place something nearby, the tent, caught by a draft of wind, bounced out like a giant jack- in- the- box, startling him. Grimble found this excessively amusing even when it happened a third time: G less so. Finally, tent secured with pots of maritime paint, they were ready to set sail, still spied on by the boat wankers. Luckily, it was a bright day even if it was mercilessly cold as they bade farewell to their first mooring.

Ten reasons to invest in Marbella real estate:

1. A remarkable variety and exceptional quality characterize Marbella’s gastronomy. Marbella offers diverse dining options if you prefer cosy, traditional tapas bars or Michelin-starred restaurants, quaint wine houses, or vibrant nightclubs.
2. Marbella caters to a wide range of lifestyles, yet the prevailing aspect among them is a sense of tranquillity and security. The region boasts comfortable, luminous properties adorned with vibrant gardens, all located within a few minutes from the Mediterranean Sea and driving distances typically ranging from 5 to 10 minutes. Marbella offers various amenities like healthcare centres, beauty treatments, hospitals, international schools, and an idyllic climate.
3. Marbella is a melting pot of cultures, with over 120 nationalities residing or visiting the region. This vibrant mix of languages and cultures is reminiscent of that found in many international capitals, yet set against the backdrop of a privileged, natural environment.
4. Marbella is home to many exclusive boutiques, particularly in Puerto Banus and the Gold Mile, where one can find the most renowned international luxury brands.
5. Investing in Marbella real estate is a wise and secure choice, given the region’s strong and expanding brand and consistent, year-round tourism guaranteeing long and short-term returns on your investment.
6. Marbella boasts excellent access and communication links, with international airports in Malaga, Gibraltar, and Jerez located within proximity. The high-speed train (AVE) from Malaga provides quick and easy access to Madrid, Cordoba, and Seville, with under two and a half hours of journey times. In addition, the A-7 Coastal Road connects the entire coastline with the rest of Spain.
7. Marbella’s favourable climate and beautiful natural surroundings make it an ideal paradise for maintaining good health and positivity.
8. Marbella enjoys a micro-climate with an average annual temperature of 20º Celsius and 325 days of sunshine yearly.
9. Marbella’s cultural diversity is reflected in the presence of over 120 nationalities among its residents and visitors, resulting in a vibrant blend of languages and cultures that rivals that of many international capitals, all set against a privileged, natural backdrop.
10. Marbella is a sports enthusiast’s paradise, offering various activities, including golf, sailing, tennis, jogging, cycling, swimming, horse riding, stand-up paddle, personal training, yoga, Pilates, and many other indoor and outdoor sports.

LuxuryForSale.Properties Real Estate.

The heart of our business is marketing property in Spain. Our specialty is property in Marbella and other prime locations of the costa del sol, including Sotogrande. With many years of experience, We are able to offer the most extensive range of new and resale Costa del Sol villas and apartments, plus a wide variety of other Costa del Sol property. In our “property search” section you can view more than 1,000 Marbella villa examples, and other Marbella property for sale. There are Spanish country homes and country estates, as well as Marbella penthouse apartments. You will find a full selection of Spanish property and the very best styles of your dream villa in Marbella. The “Dream Homes” section offers quite special Marbella real estate, including villas in Zagaleta and plots in Sierra Blanca. The “new promotions” are the new developments in prime locations offering apartments for sale right on the ocean, as well as the typical villa Costa del Sol style on a golf course. We believe we offer the best real estate in Spain, and can fulfil any Spain real estate purchase requirement. We also offer Marbella property rental, specializing in villas to rent, in our Marbella rental available section. Our blog gives you broad range of articles of Marbella from a guide to the golf courses, schools, and restaurants in Marbella.