5 May was the day of the Super Blood Moon. This moon is also called the “Flower Moon” because it occurs in spring, the season of blooms. As Cuong, Didi and I strolled in silence on Dénia's empty beach watching the ginormous orange-pinkish globe, we felt blissful happiness being back in our familiar surroundings. The sea was oily. Lazy and heavy tiny waves were lapping the shore. Tiny rare birds with colourful quiffs were hopping around us tracing zigzags on virgin sands...
Then.
Our peace was shattered by a tsunami of tourists, invading OUR empty beaches, OUR favourites restaurants, OUR secluded walks, OUR free parking spaces. The vast majority of those tourists, interestingly, are Spanish, many from the nearby Valencia. I suppose most foreigners just hop on a boat to the near islands of Ibiza, Majorca and Menorca for their week of raving, boozing, all-you-can-eat buffet hotels or zen nature retreats.
With this, restrictions popped everywhere. The worst of them being NO DOGS ALLOWED on all beaches bar a beautiful-spotlessly-clean-clear water dog beach just 10 minutes walk from our place. Following a very loud argument with a rude Valencian tourist which improved my casual dialect vocab repertoire by ten fold, we also decided to carry Didi every morning and evening on the path from and to our flat so she would not be wrongly accused of weeing on the path running along the pool. Slightly irony : the squillions of kids, teens, parents and grandparents who recently occupied OUR pool on the same property don't seem to have Didi's restraint judging by the saltiness of its chlorine water.
Don't get me wrong, Dénia is still a top place, but now leaning towards French Riviera style. For the weekends, this motivated us to escape to surrounding villages, of which they are many within a fifty minute drive. If you can't escape tourists, might as well join them... To be able to get there, we scooped our car back from the garage, having paid a mere 30 euros for an ABS fluid top up, and 30 minutes labour time for a man to explain that all other noises and blips we detected during our last journey were ailments due to old age. None were life threatening or dangerous, but fixing them would cost ten times our current car's value, so we would be better off with a few lubricating fluids to get the sturdy old mule all the way back to the UK.
We stayed clear of the Nazis and nothing much happened bar the Dog wee argument and this morning, while walking the dog, bumping into 6 police cars with 10 policemen arresting one guy. Probably based here to supplying Ibiza and the islands with unsavoury products. So for this post, I'll just take you for a gentle tour of the neighbouring towns, each with its own special flavour:
Jávea and the 60s
Also known as Xàbia in Valencian. We walked miles to find the old town before realising we were already IN the old town. Instead of the usual tradditional casas encaladas (houses whitewashed with lime, lime as in calcium oxide not as lemon), many aging high holiday buildings were painted various shades of brown, with curvy architectural features and twidly balconies. Very 60s-70s. While interesting to look at, it was a tad depressing. The sea front, a bit more modern, was its best point.
Benidorm, yeah but no but yeah but no, so Altea
Having laughed our socks off watching the Benidorm TV series, famous for nailing British travellers chavness* to a T and capturing the dodgy Latin charm through the very Spanish Mateo (who turned out to be an Italian actor), we were leaning towards driving to Benidorm. But the thought of driving 50 minutes to eat fish and chips, gawp at burnt bodies on the overcrowded beach or watch tribute bands in tacky Casinos didn't appeal so much. So we turned our noses up at Benidorm and chose Altea instead, which also features in the series at the total opposite of the spectrum, meaning a posh, twee, beautiful village built on a hill. It lives up to its image. Lots of white and blue, everything clean, masses of fuschia Bougainvilliers and other flowers contrasting with the whiteness, eco-shops and restaurants, sea views from everywhere, a striking blue-dome church. This magnificent structure was built by a Russian entrepreneur and designed to be a copy of a 17th-century church in Russia. Its materials were imported from the Ural Mountains and assembled by a number of specialised Russian craftsmen. Why not, I guess.
*having spent years with so called "chavs" in London, I give them respect. Watching that series, you can only admire their devious honnesty, their way of simultaneously causing, breaking up fight and tearfully call each other best mates over a pint in the same evening, their solidarity, their family values, their love of dogs, their brutal jokes, and way for grabbing life to the full, be it breakfast or joy. Think Ricky Gervais.
Altea, jewel of the Costa Blanca
Moraira and Yogi dude
This town is perfect for families. Lagoon-like shoreline with crystal clear green blue waters mixing rocks and sand, a safe shallow water beach, fresh water river running into that beach where dogs are allowed so heaps of kids were paddling about petting non-plussed Didi, very touristy streets with lots of independent shops. We arrived in the middle of a medieval party and joyfully overpaid for a mediocre lunch so we could enjoy the picture perfect view then ate a yummy pastry in a local patisserie in revenge.
We took a Spanish siesta under an old pine tree in front of the best statue ever, watching people taking pictures of each other in the crazyest poses you can imagine. Not being too keen on visiting the local hospital, I just about managed to stop Cuong from attempting a head bridge balancing on the hands of the Yogi dude in question.
The nice empty part of Moraira
And the town with a very narrow street. Too crowded but fine if you like that sort of thing
Guadalest and its famous castle that we never reached
The heat reached another level this month so the only time to go on the beach without cooking to a crisp is before 10am or after 6pm. We were also limited on choice because of Didi. So instead, we headed inland to a village in the mountains famous for its castle. A few miles from there is a chalky blue reservoir, where we were hoping to find shade and fresh water to cool off.
So we walked about in this small village which is very scenic. We went up and down and around, ate on a nice plaza, came back to the parking and realised we completely forgot to visit Guadalest's famous castle. By then, we felt too smelted to walk back up, so with some serious guilt (this would never happen if my mum had been with us), we skipped the climb to the castle and headed down to the lake.
In our defense, the reservoir/lake looked like it should be in a fairytale. It was also huge and we had the whole place to ourselves, just spotting a couple of families peppered on opposite folds of its shore. There weren't 'beaches' as such given that it is not a natural pool of water, so getting to the water was tricky especially with a very thirsty dog eager to tumble down for a dip. The water gets very deep about a metre from the shore which is a bit nerve-racking knowing that noone would be able to fish us out if we sank, but it was fresh and lovely.
Cuong swimming over deep waters and the famous castle of Guadalest
A very typical street in Guadalest
Villajoyosa, the joyful and colourful city with fierce granmas
Way less tourists here. We both loved the colour palette of the old town which reminded us of Isla Mujeres in México. The houses were not too big, not too small, not to shabby not too fancy, with warm colours and plants everywhere. I was starting to picture myself spending my old age in those cool streets when, at lunch, we made the tragic mistake of sitting in a cafe next to a group of 8 granmas. They spent the next 2 hours gossiping and criticizing each other, their neighbours and the world VERY LOUDLY, half of them systematically disagreeing with the other half just for the sake of talking louder. We had sat there to rest in peace but being in a chicken coop would have been more relaxing. I literally thought it would come to blows when one of their 'friends' passed by and greeted them in Spanish instead of Valencian!
So abstraction made of the positive points, we'll pick our quiet and friendly Cambridge Albert Street neighbours. On top of this, the nice old town seems to be owned by fierce locals only and the rest of the city is meh.
Joyful colourful Villajoyosa. In case you're wondering why I'm posing next to two portaloos, that's because 'Toi Toi' is what Cuong always calls me, says Moi Moi. I feel honoured my name is honoured on Portaloos, which are useful when you need one, and even better when you get two.
And back to our favourite Dénia
It is probably best to come here between September and May to enjoy Dénia at its fullest, but none of the towns around won our heart like Dénia did, since it has literally everything the other towns have and more: a huge sand castle, whitewashed and colourful houses, and among many other things:
The best Beaches, sandy or rocky, with funny birds
I'm saying that with a heart twinge, because I can't help wondering if I'll ever be able to share again such beautiful walks and swims in a magical place like this with aging Didi.
Sounders, the best place to boogie: we've been strolling to Sounders every friday evening since we came back. It is at a beautiful location on the port's pier. Entrance is free, the age-range of venue-goers is between 17-70 years, you can dance on two floors, sip a cocktail in a posh lounge overlooking the boats and night crazy panoramic view of Dénia's cliff, castle and city or just sit on white wooden steps on a purple light alcove as we did in the pic, you can get in with shorts/baggies/hoodie and Nikes (all tested for you) or a Versace gown and Louboutins (seen, not tested) if you prefer, it's outdoors with a tent roof in case it ever rained so really breezy, the drinks are reasonably priced and not diluted with toilet cleaner, you can start dancing from 7pm to 4am, there are 4 DJs, and we had live flamenco/techno guitar band too. We didn't witness any heavy drinking or tumbling from stairs, no fights (you wouldn't though with those bouncers), and the stroll back felt very safe with all Spanish people choosing nightime to stroll and eat in the night coolness. During the day, Sounders turns into a lounge bar with lofi beats, and as you can see from the back it's right next to the dog beach. Once, a stocky bouncer with more muscles than neck grabbed Cuong, smiled and shouted "Bruce Lee!" (that's the third time it happens in Spain, including a Spanish Grandma walking her dogs and a Chinese restaurant owner who was very excited about his Lee-likeness). We'll miss Sounders!
Gorgeous Cova Tallada Montgó caves
The caves, located on the edge of Dénia can be accessed via a steep walk on the cliff or by Kayak, we chose the latter. They go quite deep under the cliff and are partly artificial, as since the XII century, in the Muslim era, they were used as a quarry to extract stone for the construction of Dénia's castle and other buildings (perhaps even since Roman times). The tour included a little skin-diving jolly where our Guide proceeded to explain which fish was what and what jellies were poisonous or not. We couldn't remember whether the toxic ones were the ones with purple or the blue lining, so we were glad we only saw lots and lots of huge jellies when we were back on our Kayak!
Jolly paddling with jellies
El Baret de Miquel best of best restaurant, which we both agreed was the best we'd ever been to. We had to book it 3 months in advance so aren't the only ones with this opinion! "Miquel Ruiz gave up the Michelin star he had in Moraira and set up a bar in Dénia with his wife. He wanted to change his way of life, feel calm, away from the formalism of a star, in short, be happy, he said." He managed a perfect combo of home cooking and Michelin quality (yes, it beat the other Michelin restaurants we tried in previous years!). The food is so good you forget to talk. The food is creative but unpretentious, starters, savoury dishes and deserts are equally good. The portions are perfect and the home decor with mistmached furniture, with waiterswearing T-shirts and trainers, feel super friendly. Customers are unfussy people wearing normal clothes, and best of all, the total bill was the same as any average restaurant in Spain!
Below, incredible cheesecake that has nothing to do with its British homonym, and ceviche of rare pink shrimps specialty of Dénia. Their Orange homemade Vermouth was something too, you can see the huge selection here!
A Mexican barber: giving Cuong its crispest haircut to date
And Dénia's pretty plants... as promised in my last post!
Voilà for now, we're off tomorrow to Cagnes-Sur-Mer in France going to my mum's place!
Bye for now!
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