I stumbled across Casa Andalusí in Córdoba inadvertently when looking for things to show my parents one scorching hot day in July last year. We had been around the spice- fragranced and leather draped markets all morning but now, at mid-day, it was time to seek refuge from the fierce Andaluz summer sun.
Torre del Mar photographed from the Paseo Marítimo
Dear Torre del Mar,
I admit it. I had never heard of you, two years ago. You, the quaint, quiet fishing beach-town on the East side of the Costa del Sol. And how I wish I had done! You had never appeared in holiday brochures or on the type of TV programme which brings shame on the drunken Brit abroad archetype… no.
When I was a child, if anyone ever mentioned Spain, my mind would instantly be filled with images of whirling dancers, red skirts swishing round and castanets clicking, with onlookers clapping and shouting “¡Olé!”.
When I was 27, I moved to Spain. Andalucía, to be precise- the birthplace of Flamenco. I soon realised that my young imaginings were not as naïve as they seemed; rather, the culture of Flamenco penetrates the ground and the air here.