The laid back Coast of Light
It’s some years now since I sojourned on the lovely Costa de la Luz in Spain. But over lunch last weekend a friend mentioned how much he and his wife love that part of Spain and how they visit often, staying in a small hotel right on the beach, the Atlantic spilling on to the sands.
It took me back to the many times we holidayed there in the late 1990s and into the early years of the new century, dredging up only the best of memories. And so I have found myself this week right back there, recalling the places and the happenings that so defined many summer holidays there with my son and his stepfather – me and my husband alone on occasion, or all three of us together.
It was a visit to Cadiz that first took me through the lookingglass, opening up that wonderful coastline that runs north from Tarifa, up past Cadiz, and on towards the Portuguese border. Cadiz is a fantastic and often overlooked city. I’m not a huge fan of its modern ‘strip’, but the old town is enchanting and the fisherman’s Barrio de la Vina is a maze of little bars and places of interest.
Try Casa Manteca for its wonderful tapas (the cured pork was always delicious) but don’t expect a plate – a sheet of greaseproof paper is as good as it gets when it comes to such niceties! Then wander through the streets, or along the coastal path, towards the golden-domed, 18th-century cathedral, a real landmark in the old part of the city, and a building that can be spotted in the 007 film,
where Cadiz ‘doubles’ as Cuba’s Havana.
But whatever about this city location, it is the small fishing towns of the windswept and relatively unspoilt Coast of Light that dictate the atmosphere and appeal of this part of Spain. Apart from Cadiz, we stayed over the years here in Conil de la Frontera and in tiny Zahara de los Atunes (the name comes from the Arabic, meaning ‘flower of the tuna fish’). When I think of Conil I remem- ber the surrounding pine forests.f But what is seared in my mind is a memory of a teenage boy, aged about 18, dancing flamenco there one evening as darkness fell, all alone on a makeshift stage, the assembled townspeople and tourists stunned into silence and captivated by the beauty of the boy, and the delicacy of his dance.
Along this coast back then there was a distinctive, laid-back feel that was already long gone from the glitzier, brasher towns of the Costa de la Sol. My luncheon friend who has been back recently tells me this is still the case. He stays in Los Canos de Meca, close to Zahara, in a small, one-star hotel that overlooks a wonderful beach. Straight out of bed and into the sea is his morning routine, even before breakfast beckons.
There’s an African feel to this part of western Andalucia, unsurprising really since it offers views of that continent and of its Rif mountains in the distance. There’s also the attraction of Cape Trafalgar here, between Canos and Zahara, with its lighthouse at the end of the promontory. It was off here that Lord Nelson’s fleet triumphed but he himself perished back in 1805.
This is a magical part of Spain. I have already been checking flights and accommodation for late September. If you’ve never been, you’re missing out. Just go.