Torrox Rest Day

September 12, 2017 - Torrox, Spain

Because today was a designated rest day we didn’t have to worry about the lightning-quick pickup in the square. So we slept in a bit longer then put on some washing before meeting Chris and Jenny at Paco’s; two years ago we had discovered that Paco served bacon and eggs for breakfast. So three of us had scrambled egg and bacon with toast (ordered separately as is the custom, it seems, in any country other than an Anglo-Celt one) and Margaret had toast and jam. When ordered this way, the toast, instead of being wafer-thin, is a halved baguette. Very satisfactory. Then Caffe con Leche all round.

While we were having breakfast we saw Debbie, Karen, Sue and Peter heading off for the beach. I would have gone with them except that if they had decided on a taxi instead of the bus, there would have been too many of us. So instead I went back ‘home’ for my swimmers, camera etc and walked around on my own to the bus-stop. When I got there, there was no sign of a bus or a timetable, so I asked a man, obviously, as it turned out, from north London, who was sitting outside a little general store. He was waiting for the bus to Malaga and he explained to me that I could get the local blue one in about 20 minutes, or the one to Malaga for a few extra cents.

I wandered about for a bit, then tried to get on the bus at the drop off stop, was redirected by my friend, waited for the bus to disappear and reappear, and in due course paid my one euro 80 to Torrox Costa.

The bus stop was only a few hundred metres from the beach, and when I arrived there, I negotiated my way around the serried ranks of sun lounges shaded by coconut fibre umbrellas and found someone to whom to pay my 5 euros for use of same. There was a tiny little bathing box in which to change, but there was a short queue for it, so having selected my spot, I wriggled out of my clothes and into my swimmers, modestly covered by my sarong.

The water was surprisingly cold, although there were intermittent warm patches on the surface. However, it was lovely and clear, with very fine, smooth sand on the bottom, and I enjoyed myself while trying to keep an eye on my abandoned belongings.

I nodded over ‘Homage to Catalonia’ for about 3 hours, with my legs in the sun, then had another swim. Although Vicki had warned us that the sun would burn us to a crisp in 10 minutes, my legs showed total disregard for the Torrox sun – Vicki’s remarks were obviously directed to those accustomed to virtually sunless summers. I decided to get dressed again in the bathing box – wriggling back into clothes out of wet swimmers was not a manoeuvre I was prepared to try.

Back at the bus stop, I dithered about again before asking, and even after asking, but eventually recognised the blue Torrox bus I was looking for. As I was walking back through the square in Torrox, I missed a call from Max, and a few minutes later when I arrived ‘home’ I found him, with Karen and Peter who had just arrived, all looking concerned. It turns out that Peter had been robbed of 300 euros on the promenade at Torrox Costa by a woman who had apparently been trying to tuck a flower into his belt. Karen shooed her off, but too late. Poor Peter was obviously distressed – it was all the cash he had – and the rest of us of course were very concerned for him.

Debbie and Sue arrived home shortly afterwards, and there was much commiserating all round before we settled down to do some journal writing and photo editing.

Max told me he had been down to the supermarket at lunchtime for juice and bread but had otherwise stayed home writing and editing. And forgetting to hang out the washing, which we did when I arrived back.

At 6.30 we met Chris and Jenny in the square and managed to put away a gin and tonic before catching a taxi back to Torox Costa to meet Kevan, our former photo tutor, at the Chinese restaurant he had taken us to last time. Once again we left it to him to order – dim sims, sizzling beef, chicken and vegetables and rice to share. Beer for the men, and more G and T for Jenny and me. It was good to catch up with Kevan who told us that, while he had greatly enjoyed his photo tutoring, he felt it was time to enjoy ore travelling especially since his sons and his ‘lady friend’ (his description) are in England. He is planning a tour of Route 66 in America next year. All in all he seems very happy with his life, which is nice.

By the end of the meal poor Jenny was feeling distressed with an upset stomach, and was quite happy to get a taxi home reasonably early, if that’s what 10.30 is. The taxi dropped us all as close as it could get to Chris and Jenny’s place, although still leaving them with quite a long flight of stairs to climb, and Max and I walked the short distance home from there.


A day at the beach
Among the crowds at the beach
Change rooms
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