retiredmartin

Mrs RM’s main target on this Spanish trip, in the absence of Beer Guide ticks, was El Camanito del Rey,

a walkway over a gorge that I guess is almost as thrilling as the bridge over the River Don into Kelham Island.

But for now I don’t know as Mr Rey cancelled our trips on two (2) successive days, so we needed a back up plan.

Well, that’ll be Torremolinos, then. Half an hour along the coast on the “commuter” line,

the gateway to a vast complex of 1970s high-rise hotels services by donuts and coke.

Well, that’s what I thought. But this was a day of surprises.

Starting with the revelation that the Liberal club, also known as the Kamelot Swingers Club,

does NOT serve Thwaites Smooth as required of Liberal clubs in Rochdale.

Never mind, there’s bound to a “British Pub” in the run of bars just north of an unappealing looking beach.

But first of all, let me say, Torremolinos is rather charming and a great place to stroll.

Our tapas target, at the eerily early hour of 12:01, was a tiny place called Secretos Ibericos, where I forgot to ask for the beer list and shared a bottle of Rioja with Mrs RM, which she always loves even though that means there’s less for her.

You choose the tapas from the cabinet, four for five euros, but of course I had to have a calamari sandwich as well.

Now the food was startlingly good, and cheap, and the entertainment was Charlie Chaplin as a caveman,

but the real star of this place were the three ladies working cheerily as a team to serve beer to lads, tapas to tourists and chat to me about their pet home brewing project (kit on the way to the Gents).

“Something like an ale” said the lady in charge. Sadly, it’ll be summer before it’s ready, and the Overseas Territories Branch of CAMRA will probably declare it’s NOT REAL ALE, being meanies.