With the weather forecast continuing to toll its deathly chimes, and there being no sign of improvement in the abysmal weather of late, it was time to take off once again to Spain.
Benalmadina on the Costa del Sol ticks all the boxes for desperate sun-seeking Brits and (with a credit card straining at the leash) an escape plan was hatched. One swift scroll of a holiday website later and a bunch of us were soon going mad in the Spanish sun.
Benalmadina does rather a nice line in attractive beaches, with a smart boat-infested marina and several enticing bars – so what’s not to like when the weather is hitting the low twenties.
Sitting in the sun, enjoying a spot of people-watching while swirling around a tall, cold frothy one is a heady combination but that’s what multi-tasking is all about.
Fishy flurries of grey mullet darted around in the marina waters and, if we felt land-lubbered, a little trip around the coastline was just the ticket.
Sporty Fuengirola is a few kilometres up the road from Benalmadina, and the less energetic Torremolinas is just around the corner. To folks of a certain age, Torremolinas always brings to mind Monty Python’s famous sketch (which also features Brummies):
Tourist: …and then some adenoidal typists from Birmingham with flabby white legs and diarrhoea trying to pick up hairy bandy-legged waiters called Manuel and once a week there’s an excursion to the local Roman Ruins to buy Cherryade and melted ice cream and bleeding Watney’s Red Barrel and one evening you visit the so called typical restaurant with local colour and atmosphere and you sit next to a party from Rhyl who keep singing ‘Torremolinos, Torremolinos’ and complaining about the food – ‘It’s so greasy here, isn’t it?’ – and you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic camera and Dr. Scholl sandals and last Tuesday’s Daily Express and he drones on and on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country and how many languages Enoch Powell can speak and then he throws up over the Cuba Libres…
…and sending tinted postcards of places they don’t realise they haven’t even visited to ‘All at number 22, weather wonderful, our room is marked with an ‘X’.
Travel Agent: Will you shut up!
Extra Treat Time: here’s the non-PC YouTube clip:
Torremolinas was a poor fishing village before the growth in Monty Python and tourism, and it was the first resort on the Costa del Sol to be developed. Despite being a short walk from Benalmadina, it was nevertheless taxing enough to warrant buying some sustaining pizza and beer whenever we crossed over into Torremolinas territory.
Plenty of older high-rise residential buildings and snappy hotels run right up to the edge of the promenade and, skirting the coastline, the nearly 8-kilometre beach stretches out for nearly 8 kilometres (who’d have thought?)
The little resort town of Nerja is located on one of the most picturesque sections of the coast. The town has a famous seafront promenade, the Balcony of Europe, offering panoramic views of the Mediterranean and surrounding mountains. With neat little plazas packed with cafes and shops, there was no shortage of Cheese and Ham Toasties as we went about sampling the local cuisine.
Allegedly, the prettiest village in Andalusia is Frigiliana – a jumble of bleached-white houses and dwellings set up on a rocky hillside. A little road train rattled us around the new town, but we walked on foot (it’s the best way of walking) around the Moorish old quarter, strolling in and out of the narrow cobblestone streets, which were lined with flower-covered balconies.
Musical Note: Frigiliana gets a tiny mention in a famous Irish song ‘Lisdoonvarna’ by Christy Moore:
“Summer comes around each year, We go there and they come here. Some jet off to … Frigiliana, But I always go to Lisdoonvarna.”
Other resorts within easy reach of Benalmadina are Marbella and Puerto Banús.
The old town of Marbella still has remnants of ancient city walls harking back to the 16th century. At the heart of the old town is the Orange Square (or the Plaza de los Narajos, if you want to get all Spanish about it). The square is bursting with bright flowers and orange trees, topped off with a bust of King Carlos 1.
Hemmed in by the ubiquitous whitewashed houses, shops, restaurants and tapas bars, the square also contains the Renaissance-influenced Town Hall, and the oldest religious building in the city – the Chapel of Santiago. South-west of Marbella is Puerto Banús – the home of the Haves and Have Yachts.
Puerto Banús was only built in 1970 by a local property developer, and mooted as a luxury marina and shopping complex. It has since developed into one of the largest entertainment centres in the Costa del Sol.
Propped up on a granite pedestal in the coastal centre of Puerto Banús is La Victoria, a huge statue sculpted in bronze and copper. Created by the famous Georgian sculptor Zurab Tsereteli (no, me neither), it was a gift to the town from the Mayor of Moscow.
Brighton Rock at the Birmingham Rep
The tag line for Birmingham Rep’s production of Brighton Rock was: Romeo & Juliet meets Peaky Blinders in this gripping tale of crime and romance.
Love Midlands Theatre’s review of the performance:
Graham Greene’s 80-year-old story takes on new resonance in Bryony Lavery’s dark and thrilling adaptation of Brighton Rock at The Rep.
This brooding tale of the criminal underworld follows teenage sociopath and gang leader Pinkie Brown (Jacob James Beswick) as he attempts to cover his tracks after a brutal murder, leaving a fresh trail of destruction in his wake.
In a demanding anti-heroic role Beswick owns the character of Pinkie, his exaggerated mannerisms work perfectly and he captures Pinkie’s tortured nature, dominating arrogance and inner struggles with great skill.
Sarah Middleton produces a beautiful performance as naive waitress Rose, whose blind devotion sucks her into Pinkie’s dangerous world. The tragically abusive nature of their relationship is portrayed with power and sensitivity. Meanwhile Gloria Onitiri is superb as the unwitting detective and good conscience of the piece, Ida Arnold, who won’t settle until she learns the truth.
A simple but striking set allows for slick changes of location to help the story move along at break-neck speed and a two-piece band playing in the shadows adds cleverly to the constant sense of foreboding.
Pilot Theatre delivers a dark and thrilling reboot of Greene’s suspenseful story of the criminal underworld with bags of substance to match its considerable style.
This month’s Nature Notes comes from Woolston Eyes, a small series of islands and reed beds rising out of the deposit grounds of the Manchester Ship Canal – and a mere loose tyre nut away from the M6 motorway (I’m not really selling it but it is a remarkable setting).
The Eyes have it that the name derives from the Saxon word ‘Ees’ meaning land near a looping watercourse. Our early Germanic settlers must have thrown their beach towels on the banks of the Mersey sometime around 700 AD.
Black-necked Grebes are the poster boys of the reserve, and several pairs were settling into their breeding plumage, fluffing themselves up nicely for a bit of courtship displaying.
There were warblers too – Willow, Chiffchaff, Blackcap – all pretending that spring has sprung when really we are still experiencing winter, which began way back in July.
Burton Mere Wetlands is on the border between England and Wales, a wetland (clue’s in the name) and woodland reserve with an excellent Visitor Centre overlooking acres of shimmering water.
There was lots of gull on gull action, some insouciant Spotted Redshanks lurked amongst the Avocets, and the usual full complement of waders, gulls and ducks ticked past at regular intervals.
Striding out further afield, there were Grey Partridges hunkering down in the bracken, and a few Wheatears flitted about in the top meadow. A confident Whitethroat rasped away in the bushes, and a Great White Egret was spotted out on the Wirral Peninsula, staking out the best places for fish.
Meanwhile, at the Film Club…
16th April 2018 would have been Spike Milligan’s 100th birthday and to celebrate, the Flat Disc Society theme was an evening dedicated to Spike by screening one of his forgotten works and two short films.
First up was the music video to Cat Stevens’ Moonshadow, which tells the tale of a young boy and his pet cat as they try to rescue the moon and put it back in the sky.
Next was The Running Jumping & Standing Still Film by Richard Lester and Peter Sellers, featuring Spike. A surrealist tale in a field in just one day. The film was not originally intended for commercial release but became an unexpected hit and was even nominated for a Live Action Short Oscar in 1960. This short film became a particular favourite of The Beatles, and as a result they chose Richard Lester to direct their films A Hard Day’s Night and Help!
Finally, The Bed Sitting Room – an absurdist, post-apocalyptic, satirical black comedy based on Spike Milligan’s 1962 play of the same name. The story is set in London after World War III (referred to as the “Nuclear Misunderstanding”) which lasted two minutes and twenty-eight seconds “including the signing of the peace treaty”.
“I’m not able to tell whether it’s funny any more.” (Richard Lester)
The Manic Street Preachers were appearing at the Arena Birmingham so obviously there was only one place to go on Friday night.
The Manics are dead good – in fact, they are always deceasingly brilliant (this is why I don’t write for Classic Rock Magazine).
James Driver-Fisher does a much better job of it for the Express & Star and here’s some of his shamelessly-purloined review:
I’ll be honest. This was the first time I had ever watched the Manics.
I knew most of classics, I’d researched the new album – which from a novice’s point of view is brilliant – and then headed straight to Arena Birmingham.
The Welsh rockers have just put out their 14th album, whilst celebrating 30 years making music. Bassist Nicky Wire had questioned in interviews prior to last night’s gig whether the public still thought traditional rock ‘n’ roll was still relevant.
If the crowd at the Arena last night was anything to go, it’s fair to say the answer was a resounding ‘yes’.
It’s easy to get carried away with all the rap, pop and dance music that tends to fill the charts – but the simple fact is there is nothing better than a rock gig. The Manics strolled on stage behind a chorus of violins and then blasted out their latest smash-hit single, International Blue.
Their new album, Resistance Is Futile, which I’d been listening back-to-back for the last few days, ticks all the boxes.
How they manage to stay original after all these years is a mystery, but I suppose their four-year hiatus probably helped. As Wire put it himself, they knew they had some great songs for a new album, but it was International Blue that screamed ‘this is the Manics’ next single’.
One of the most impressive aspects of the whole gig was how clean, precise and in tune the band was from the opening chord to the last lyric – it sounded exactly the same as the CD.
To be fair, the crowd had been very-nicely warmed up by support act, The Coral, who seem to be going from strength to strength having roared back on to the music scene in recent years.
But back to the Manics, it wasn’t long before they belted out one their classics – And, If You Tolerate This, Then Your Children Will Be Next. And without hesitation, Your Love Alone Is Not Enough followed. Whether or not you’ve got the Manics albums, the hits are hits – and that was rammed home when No Surface All Feeling was played.
As lead singer and guitarist James Bradfield explained, it was the 20th time he had played Birmingham – perhaps tongue in cheek, but he couldn’t have been far off – before breaking into Your Love Alone.
If you’re novice fan, like me, it would be easy to miss how good the Manics are live. The whole band just gelled from the opening riff. It’s good to support new bands but there is nothing better than seeing an established group playing at the top of their game. It’s just effortless. And then we were given a breather…but only while we waited for 4 Ever Delayed to strike. It was another chance to simply sway, nod and appreciate the music, before more of that driving guitar came back to the fore.
Next up, it was arguably the highlight of the entire set. A sublime tribute to former band member Richey Edwards. Bradfield was on point, as the band thrashed out another of their all-time greats. Once the crowd had settled, they were treated to a slow, mellow, groovy and beautiful build up for Horses Under Stairlight.
If You Tolerate This was next, and it was impossible not to wave your arms in time to the beat – especially when a huge blast of streamers exploded from the ceiling. A nice touch.
Bradfield then got everyone to settle down, pulled out his acoustic and serenaded us, leaving just enough time for Wire to reappear dressed in an all-white suit – he was modest enough to admit he had nice legs, and put his slim physic down to drinking Ribena and eating Kit Kats.
But that was enough of the niceties – because it was time for the all-out rock track, You Love Us. And just when you thought the Manic couldn’t rock any harder, the light shone on Wire as his driving bass made way for Walk Me to the Bridge.
Bored Out Of My Mind? Hardly, as there was no let up right up until encore, the song the Manics are best known for. It was obvious, for some of the hardcore fans it might have seemed a bit repetitive – but there is no denying A Design For Life is one of the best tracks ever recorded.
With more streamers, more cheers and more applause, the gig was over. And, if I wasn’t before, I’m now a fully-fledged Manics fan.