in Andalucia: Some Evocative Memories...I have lived in Andalucia, near Torremolinos, (Costa del Sol), off-and-on, since 1963. Early Morning Walks on the BeachThe very first time we arrived in Spain - we arrived at night and it was pitch black. Dying to see the surroundings, all we could see, was a darkened horizon, dotted with distant twinkling lights. My father teased, those lights, were moving mountains. None of us knew the ground-layout till morning.The bobbing lights proved to be local fishermen's boats - out since long before dawn. Spilled luminescence from their oil lamps, attracted shoals of silvery Malagüenian fish. Guardia CivilDuring Franco's regime, no-one ventured on the beach after dark. The Guardia Civil patrolled every night, searching for contrabandistas.One was automatically stopped and searched IF you were found on the beach.
Those fishermen's boats were already banked on the shore. There was no such thing, as a mechanical winch, to haul-in the nets. Each boat's male-family member appeared. They hooked part of the net roping under their arms and began to walk, in an upwards line. The men yanked, heaved, pulling with their body weight, bringing the catch onto the shore. This could take HOURS under a 'sol de justicia': boiling-hot sunshine! My children's bucket always accompanied our beach strolls.  Early Morning Fishing in Andalucia Our PatchMy parents' beach flat was opposite the Torremolinos Parador, in Andalucia, Spain.Obviously, our favourite patch was the Torremolinos/ Malaga area. I knew Torremolinos before the train station was underground. My father called it a 'Honky, Tonk Town.' I don't remember that many cars. There were far more over-laden donkeys that stood right in the middle of narrow streets and the horrendously, slow, put-put motorbikes, a synonymous fact-of-life, in Andalucian roads. Near to the Torremolinos, La Nogalera train station, was the street of restaurants. Aligning there, were walls, lined with line-after-line of local artists' exhibiting their daily work. Passers-by admired them endlessly. Most of the art, in my house, dates, from this period. Shoes were another attraction, in Calle San Miguel. My father nicknamed us: centipedes. La Reine Astrid was THE best patisserie! Often we dined in the Carihuela. Personally, I prefer the Carihuela of those days: 1960/70's. (James A. Michener, expertly chronicled that life, in his novel, 'The Drifters'). In Andalucia, the Chiringuitos then, had ALL the charm... allow me to explain. Chiringuito ExplantionsChiringuitos were make-shift sheds (sugar-shacks at best), with some cane roofing for shade, which often blew-off during stormy days. The floor was beach sand. Everything was on a tilt: chairs, tables, glasses, plates. Guests, one-and-all, carefully folded-up paper napkins or fold-up match-booklets and re-aligned the table and chairs. (My first fiance, Rafael, ran a chiringuito. I clearly remember helping, washing dishes, standing on a sandy floor.)The lulling cool sea-breezes broke the torrid day temperatures; the shore gently lapped in the dark background. Air-conditioning, if I remember rightly, simply did NOT exist. in an Andalucian Lifestyle Analogy...Air conditioning, was parallel to living in Andalucia's history, of direct telephone lines...In order to make a call, we had to go to a telefonica centralita and BOOK the call 8 - 10 hours in advance. That was done early morning and then the evening was centered around that 'call' and thus spent in the nearest restuarant. Dining was fun.
News from home combined with exhibiting artists, doing their rounds. Strolling musicians, (the University ones 'La Tuna' were the best) added to the evening's pleasure, especially, the high-kicking, ribboned, tambourine players...(hmmm, there were some really GOOD Looking ones!) Swarthy men would unexpectedly approach and in a cloak-and-dagger attitude, reveal, sporting under their jackets, dozens and dozens of gold watches and other jewellery trinkets - either stolen goods or from the boatloads, the Guardia didn't catch... Little, did I realise, that the same men, we had witnessed bodily hauling uphill the fish-nets, were often the restaurant owners. Fish, was a great item to chose. Living in Andalucia, one Andalusian Gastronomy speciality, is freshly fried fish. Sardine Espetos are often grilled inside the innards of an wrecked fishing boat, filled with sand with a wood-fire burning in its centre. The waft of grilled fish is delectable. Chrissy and I, visited, a super one recently... I can't remember whether I went with my parents; apart from having a proper floor and has been transformed into a real bricks-and-mortar building. Requirements, which, I hasten to add were not enforced by the restaurants, but through the Junta de Andalucia's strict laws. Do you have a favourite restaurant or Chiringuito? Please, share your Andalucian Memories to Treasure with us. This chiringuito gains our seal of approval, as of A Best Chiringuito in Andalucia. Back to Andalucia-Andalusia's Homepage |
