Torremolinos is a tourist town further down the coast. It is filled with English, Irish, German and Scandinavian visitors taking in a bit of sun and still eating their native food of beans on toast, etc.
Joe and I took a short train ride to the town and got off the train with no idea of where we were going to stay. We dragged our bags to a nice small Irish bar and asked the owner (a woman from Dublin who had lived there 20+ years) where we should book into. She recommended a little hostal called the Red Parrot. In Spain, hostals aren't like what I imagined, 10 people crammed into a room with a dirty bathroom at the end of the hall. Instead, they have private rooms with bathrooms--they're just a little bare-bones and usually stink of cigarettes. But, for 45 Euro a night, you can't complain.
We booked into the place and headed out to the town and the beach. The beach was immaculate and Joe kept askiong if we had to pay to be on it. You don't, but if you want a lounge chair, you usually have to pay 5 Euro. We then went to a tourist trap for lunch across the street. I will say that the food was good and Joe could have a bit of his fave food, too. I had grilled calimari and the price was right, too. We met some American tourists from Virginia and Joe found it amazing that we didn't have much to say to eachother. He thinks that if I run into any Americans, that we should have a long conversation, etc... These women were actually annoying. They were probably in their 50's and asked way too many questions, "How do you like it here?" "Where are you staying?" "For how long?" When I told them that Joe and I were thinking about staying here forever, then one woman said, "Oh, that's what we said the first time we came!" I said, "No, really, we're thinking of staying." and then one woman asked, "Well, where will you live? Where will you work? What will you do for money? Aren't you far from home? It can be expensive to live here..." So then, as rude as it was, I stopped talking to them. They still tried to ask me questions, and I shut them out.
The woman Joe and I met earlier at the Irish pub was really nice. She and her husband had lived in Spain and owned that pub for a long time. There teenage son also works there and he was very pleasant to talk to. They even offered Joe a bartending job there! They were both really nice and helpful adn provided us with useful info when it comes to owning a bar.
Other bits about Torrie (as the tourists call it) is that they have a really neat town to go exploring around, much like Malaga with winding streets and small shops. The nightlife is quite lively with small scale night clubs and promoters (usually English 19 year olds) dragging you into their pub for a free shot and a drink.
Oddly enough...there was one night where there was an American Indian doing a show. How the Hell did he find that town??
We stayed in Torremolinos for two days and then headed further down on the train to Fuengirola...
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