It was a week of upsets in Benidorm for one of the biggest sporting events in the UK tourist hotspot’s calendar.
First there were torrential downpours when I’d packed budgie smugglers – and then Inothewayurthinkin clinched the Gold Cup. That’s horse racing, that’s the weather, that’s life. There’s a fable in there somewhere, but while I was there I also learned a thing or two about the place, and why the Costa Blanca resort remains so popular.
Benidorm is a town full of contrasts. Winners celebrate next to mates who have lost stacks, and boisterous Brits rub shoulders with Spanish retirees. On Wednesday night, before the rain that soaked revellers on Thursday and much of Friday came, the air was warm and Spaniards milled through the Old Town.
(Image: HUMPHREY NEMAR)
Some ate at tables outside restaurants in winding, narrow streets, with others sat breathing in the warm night air.
There were joggers along the waterfront and earlier in the day there had been a salsa class at the Parc De Foietes, where older Spanish people had stepped and spun in unison.
The British are harder to spot here and for a moment it could be any other well-sunned coastal town where time moves slowly and the air feels like a warm embrace.
(Image: HUMPHREY NEMAR)
It isn’t, it’s Benidorm, and very quickly you’ll spot an Arsenal fan in a Declan Rice shirt meandering across the coastal path.
The one I saw found a port in the storm-for-one by leaning against a lamppost, swaying, hopelessly thumbing things into his phone which didn’t seem to be turned on.
The drunk Arsenal fan is only ever a lost scout for the British quarter, like the first snowflake landing gently on your palm before a blizzard. Walking east along the waterfront, which looks south towards Algeria and in the evening lights up in a surprisingly-beautiful marriage of Florida and a quaint seaside town, the Square the Strip’s boom comes into earshot as hoards of Brits and Irish drink themselves into oblivion.
(Image: HUMPHREY NEMAR)
While Benidorm is one place, the enclosed British section feels almost like a children’ s creche and has earned itself the name of “Little Manhattan” or the “Manhattan of Spain”.
While this part of town no doubt influences all of Benidorm, the town is big enough and lived in by enough Spaniards to make it feel a place of two halves that come together to make one thing greater than the sum if its parts.
This feeling is, I think, also the reason Benidorm remains so popular with Brits – it feels like somewhere.
(Image: HUMPHREY NEMAR)
For so many of us from the UK, our day to day lives can feel mundane, and while an English town or village may be the envy of people around the world, those of us who grew up in this environment have created a cliche by ‘wanting to get out of this dump’.
For people sick of the day to day slog, Benidorm is like a real life version of the Pirates of The Caribbean’s Tortuga, that lawless, thrilling place where anything is possible and each person who goes there stands a chance of being at the centre of a grand adventure.
Benidorm has long held a reputation, especially among the snobbier parts of British society. It’s not a perfect place – and Brits there could on occasion do well to remind themselves they are a guest in someone else’s country and behave accordingly – but the appeal of it is a moment of escapism. A sense of freedom and possibility that doesn’t break the bank, and doesn’t push people too far out of their comfort zones.
I learned a lot while I was there: about Benidorm, about Brits, and that there was not point in bringing my swimming trunks whatsoever because, it turns out, you ned to go further than Spain to escape the British weather in March.