On our way from Granada to the Costa de Sol, we could not keep from stopping yet again to visit a village with but a few homes on what seemed to be a long forgotten roadbed. Entering this borough, first through a suspicious old tunnel, and then over half worn stone roadway, we came upon scattered dwellings that would seem to be unoccupied were it not for occasional laundry hanging or recently tended flowers. I can only imagine that most of the inhabitants were farm hands at work in nearby fields. We spent but a few minutes there. Just enough time to imagine the struggle that many must endure to exist on this regions unforgiving ground.
Again focused on finding the Costa de Sol, we selected Motril, the first city we found to enter on the coast, found a grocery store, bought some meats, cheese and their wonderful bread, and set out for the beach to have our lunch. Following our leisurely meal we set forth along the coast until we came upon La Herradura. Feeling we had better find lodging for the night we weaved our way to the shoreline to see if this small community had accommodations. The Hotel Los Fenicios (a TRYP hotel) is a four star hotel that had quite reasonable pre-tourist season rates (2 or 3 stars are usually our limit).
La Herradura is on the seashore some 40-50 miles from Malaga on the N340 coastal highway, and marks the western tip of the Province of Granada's Costa del Sol. Sparkling clear water washes upon a rather dreary gritty shoreline making for a contrast of beauty and beast. Flanked by a dramatic mountain range, Sierra Almijara, to the east, the town has, fortunately, managed to avoid being blighted by the concrete high-rise explosion that has been an inevitable result of growth in the larger coastal resort cities. It is one of the few coastal towns we saw, that, whilst providing tourist facilities, maintains it's original charm and character.
Directly across from the TRYP, on the beach, is a delightful little shack of a restaurant whose interior walls are mostly windows and whose ceiling is draped in vined foliage. Tables had plants, some of which had to be removed depending on the number of patrons placed at that table.
While walking the coastline that evening we came across an Italian restaurant highly recommended by our hotel receptionist. Some wine, some pasta and we were ready to wind down for the night. We spent the evening visiting friends from Canada who we had met as we checked into the hotel earlier. Sharing travel notes we gave each other advice on where to go and what to see.
After a hardy buffet breakfast the next morning we again were on our way along the coast. It was Sunday and we desired to experience a traditional service in a very old Church. Getting advice again from our host we set out for Frigiliana which is just a short distance north of Nerja. Discovering that services were held only in the evening at the old Church we opted for the new. We had ample time before the service to enjoy our surroundings and meet some English speaking towns people. Albeit temporary citizens as they were, we met couples from England, Germany and Canada who, for a few months each year, come to this peaceful villa to - - - just sit and enjoy the tranquil air, with nature determining their pace of life.
The rest of that day we drove along the coast with an intent to find lodging on the coast - but as close to our next destination, Ronda, as was practicable. In the city of Puerto Banus, near Marbella, we came across the PYR, a three star hotel well within our means and within a block of the pier area where most of the attractions and life of the city was to be found.
Possibly the ultimate in coastal charisma Puerto Banus is located just west of Marbella. Here was a place where we could be pampered yachtside and ogle those fabulous luxury yachts while eating and drinking Sangria at one of the many open-air restaurants and bars. The setting is close to ideal, with its impressive mountain backdrop and ocean. Along the walkway that fronts the pier there stands a multitude of shops, restaurants favoring a variety of ethnic foods, ice-cream coves, and boutiques to entice the hoards of visitors to this busy area. Cool evening breezes found us opting for the Picasso Restaurant. Not only did it serve excellent food but it had strategically placed propane heaters to ward off the evening chill that would penetrate the open frontage of its cafe.
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