Above us, the snow-capped Sierra Nevada Mountains glistened in the first light of dawn. Alongside, our only companions, the dolphins raced, jumped, and played in the glassy sea.
The run along the Costa Del Sol from Gibraltar to Almerimar, past Marbella, Torremolinos and Malaga, was like crossing a millpond. The Mediterranean was living up to its reputation for wind – all, or nothing. Arriving in Almerimar was like arriving at a sailing club rally. Portsmouth boats, all old friends, lined the quay - Dragonsong, Mayra, Leslie Frank, and ……………….
Avocette’s lift-out was accompanied by much shouting, and animated discussion by the many Marinieros, but the care and attention was excellent, and soon Avocette was settled on the hard. They pressure-washed, scrubbed, and polished, and all for a fraction of the cost in the UK. Antifouled, and another coat of polish (by me this time) and four days later were back in the water. There’s a lot to be said for hot sunny days!
Almerimar doesn’t have an “Old Town”. The marina is big and surrounded by bars and shops, but many of its modern buildings lay empty, victims of the financial crash.
Surrounding the town, and stretching as far as the eye can see, the land is covered in plastic sheet. The Dutch saw the potential. They taught the Spanish how to use hydroponics - plastic tunnels, all climate controlled, and that now grow much of Spain’s vegetables - the same vegetables we see on our supermarket shelves at home.
Seventy-five miles south of the Costa Del Sol is the north coast of Africa, and the authorities are constantly on the alert. Drug smuggling is quite rightly, taken very seriously. The Guardia Civil intercepted this Grandbanks Trawler Yacht. When it tried to out-run the patrol boat a hail of 12mm cannon brought his clandestine run to a dramatic halt. This smugglers drug run had cost him his life!
One of the great joys of cruising is exploring the countryside, unearthing the real country, meeting local people, and enjoying their customs, food and culture. Using the excuse to return Jim to Almerimar I hired a car and we drove up into the mountains, along the coast, and into the old towns. Spanish roads are a joy. Wide empty motorways speed you through the dramatic scenery, winding narrow lanes creep up the hills into old towns, or to cliff-tops and craggy rocks and quiet harbours.
