Ever journeyed along Spain’s southern coast, suncream melting in your bag and ambition-pounding sandals, and stumble upon Benalmádena.
It’s one of those Costa del Sol towns that looks like it was designed by a human who could not choose between a sleepy coastal fishing village or a glittering holiday playground. The result is pleasantly baffling, where you can sip sangria by a marina, full of yachts you’ll never afford, and then wander uphill to find old ladies hanging their laundry outside whitewashed houses, as though the 1970s never left. Benalmádena itself is organized into three sections: the beachy, sunburn-friendly Benalmádena Costa; the marginally more gleaming Arroyo de la Miel; and the old village up in the hills, Benalmádena Pueblo, which feels like a postcard somebody forgot to update. Every single bit has a personality of its own. Most tourists are engaged in the meaningful task of perfecting the art of doing nothing in the Costa. The Pueblo, by contrast, gives honor to the bold (or just the right kind) with cobbled streets, Mediterranean views, and tapas bars that will still treat you as a local even if you’re obviously not. You have to work a little more if you come for culture, but it’s there. The Castillo de Colomares is the kind of thing Walt Disney would have built after spending a night out in Torremolinos. It’s an absurdly charming tribute to Christopher Columbus that melds styles from every European age known to man. Nobody seems to know why, but it’s a wonderful spot for photos and existential disarray. Then, of course, there’s the Buddhist Stupa, a full-on Buddhist monument resting on a hill contemplating the sea, nearly as if it got lost on its journey to Nepal. Locals use it as a reminder that peacefulness and enlightenment can be found in even a place renowned for 2-for-1 mojitos as well. But when talking about mojitos, Benalmádena’s nightlife is a curious beast. Puerto Marina, all curves and lights and overconfident seagulls, becomes a catwalk of people who have just clearly overpacked. The bars there spew music that challenges your life choices and leads you to make a few more. It’s loud and a little tacky and yes, undeniably fun, the kind of place where you’ll swear you’re only having something to drink before you find yourself dancing to something you haven’t heard since your cousin’s wedding. Families adore the place too. There’s Tivoli World (well, when it’s open), a bit of a rumbled, slightly chaotic amusement park with a nostalgic twist, and the Sea Life Aquarium, where children can gaze at sharks while parents look at their phones. Another highlight: the cable car to Mount Calamorro — gorgeous views that dwarf the sweaty line you just sat in. At the top, you can enjoy the sight of birds of prey doing their thing or just sit there and pretend you climbed it too. Benalmádena isn’t ideal, and that’s part of the fun. It’s an amalgam of old Spain and modern tourism, with peace, chaos and low cost beer within walking distance. It’s gorgeous, faintly bizarre and undeniably touristy, the sort of place that reminds you sometimes the best trips aren’t ones that make you feel cultured, but the ones that make you laugh at yourself for trying. |
