My inner child loves to revisit a guilty pleasure
I’VE travelled to many memorable places.
I could tell you about the devastatingly beautiful sunsets of Santa Monica, the dubious pleasure of sleeping in a yurt in the Mongolian desert, the vertiginous thrill of helicoptering over the Grand Canyon, or lathering myself in hot mud from New Zealand’s volcanic rocks.
But the place that sticks in my mind the most is somewhere much closer to home – Benidorm.
Made (more) famous now by the TV show of the same name, you’d be right in thinking that there are lots of real-life characters frequenting the sunbeds of the town’s many hotels.
Yes, there are bars where you can have a fry-up and a pint for far less than a fiver and there are streets filled with late-night revellers taking plenty advantage of the cheap (and strong!) drinks.
But Benidorm is much more than this. My family went there many times during the ’80s. May and October. Quieter, cooler months than the peak of summer, but still perfect for catching some sun.
I still managed to get burnt a few times. I remember the relief of cool Nivea slathered on scorched skin.
I have vivid memories of having my first Burger King in Benidorm. I think it was the first time I’d eaten a gherkin.
We made friends there, my parents with the locals who ran our favourite bar and restaurant, me and my siblings with the many children we met at the pools of the various hotels.
I remember going to the indoor market to buy sliced ham, the bakers for hard rolls and strange pastries with an unidentifiable filling. I remember a patisserie on the Avenida del Mediterraneo, with chocolate cakes so good I can still taste them.
I remember the sand sculptures on the beautiful beaches (where some ‘urchins’ nicked my pocket money), wandering the streets of the old town, and of course Europa Park and Aqualand.
I took my husband to Benidorm a few years ago. It was a bit of a pilgrimage for me. I wanted to see what it was like to go there as an adult.
I wasn’t disappointed. Although some things had changed, the feeling was still there.
A home from home.