My journey to Spain and arrival in Torrox

Tues 27 & Wed 28 Sept 2016

View of Torrox

Daily blog time

Found out that one of the authors I most admire, Christopher Fowler, does a daily blog – read it here. That has made me think – why don’t I do that rather than concentrating on a weekly one? So I am going to attempt to produce a short daily or two day blog starting from now onwards.

Early start but still pessimistic

Up ridiculously early on Tues morning, 3.50am! I wanted to be sure that I could get the 4.30 Gatwick Express. These used to run every 15 mins. However following the Southern train problems, they are now more spaced out such that the next one was at 5.15. That would get me into Gatwick at 5.52 with my plane going at 6.50. I like getting to an airport and chilling, thus the earlier train. Good news that Hillary seemed to have done well against Trump in the debate. I’m still pessimistic though. We seem to live in a ‘post-truth’ time where anything said is counted as true, lies don’t matter, experts can’t be trusted, and decisions are based on emotional appeal.

Rich and old

Gatwick itself was packed. But I found a quiet place for coffee and a croissant (Comptoir Libanais upstairs – suspect lots of Brits don’t like ‘cos it’s foreign’). My bag was pulled going through security because I had forgotten to take my kindle out (never happened before and I had removed my computer) plus I had forgotten to put my nasal sprays into a separate plastic bag. Doh! No problems boarding and the plane to Malaga was packed. Primarily full of old people. Tis clear that wealth in modern society really does sit with those in the older age bracket and not with young people. The same rich and old people who mainly seem to read the Daily Mail and vote Brexit – bastards.

Philip (don’t call him Phil) and to Torrox

Hot sunny weather on arrival. My former work colleague Philip met me at the airport.┬áHe looks good still for 55, with a great body and not carrying any excess weight. Puts me to shame. He drove us back to where he lives at Torrox. This is a wonderfully traditional Spanish village situated inland on the Costa Del Sol. The houses in Torrox are all made of stone and white whilst the streets are narrow and winding. It feels like being in what I think an Arabic town would be like. 45 mins to his house and very hilly. His house in Torrox is a traditional Spanish one built into a hill. Such that the lower rooms are half caves. That is the room I am sleeping in – wonderfully weird.

Fiesta time

Turns out tomorrow the feria (big fiesta) starts in Torrox and goes on for about 4 days. The sunny weather made it possible for us to go to the village square and have a coffee. They were putting up the tents and decorations including one seriously sexy Spanish workman in just a pair of short not that me and Philip sat staring at him… Potter around the village then back home to chill. Later that evening a meal out sitting in the open, a massive salad con atun (tuna) and then chicken escalope. Crashed out about 10.30 though not before checking work emails and doing some very quick, light responses to urgent stuff that demanded immediate action.


Slept well and up around 7.30. Out for coffee to a very Spanish cafe with a wonderfully grumpy waiter. Then with Philip driving to Nerja. A nearby town on the Mediterranean renowned for being a pleasant place to visit. His gym is there and whilst he worked out (I’m having a week off), I walked along the balcon – the area overlooking the sea. Pleasant though a wee bit touristy. Lunch then back to his place so he could siesta and I write up this blog. Also spoke to mum and Dave, they are both fine which is excellent news.

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