The Learning Curve of Calpe
Thank you for continuing to read all about the Spanish adventures! I appreciate you being here.
After Devante and Paco arrived in Granada, we had a week full of adventures. I went with him to Alhambra; I had already been there with Bri, so it would be fun to watch his reactions to how beautiful it is. I was not disappointed; Alhambra’s history and unapologetic existence is something to behold. You can check it out here. We saw the Basilica again, and then he and Bri went to the Granada Cathedral and the Royal Chapel, (here) where they were able to see the actual tombs where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella are laid to rest!
We also went on an Electric Bike Tour of the oldest locations in Granada! I’ve never been on an electric bike, so it did take a moment to learn. I was thankful for its capabilities when we hit our first extremely steep hill! That being said, it’s scary if you need to stop mid-climb, because to get going again, you’re fighting the steep incline, the obvious backward roll your tires want to do, and the balance it takes to get going. In addition to all of that, I had Paco in a carrier attached to my chest. Our route traced the entire arc of Granada's identity — from the Islamic-era river path and water engineering, through the Roma cave-flamenco culture of Sacromonte, into the oldest Muslim residential quarter in the city, ending at physical remnants (the gate, the modern mosque) that mark both what was lost in 1492 and what's been deliberately reclaimed since. It was a beautiful piece of history and gave the Flamenco show in a cave that Bri and I attended the previous week even more meaning. It was literally all downhill on our return, and my legs were locked in keeping me at a pace that wouldn’t make me feel like I was on a rollercoaster decent. My forearms were working as I gripped the handle bars, gently and consistently applying both front and back brakes so I wouldn’t go careening into the person in front of me. When it was all over, I needed time to just settle down – the whole thing was so incredibly intense. Also, I was sore for days after!
Soon enough, we packed up our things and Devante walked the 15 minute walk to the car rental place. Driving in Granada is not for the weak, and I am weak. Devante drove; I think I held my breath the entire time, and Bri fought the urge to vomit the whole drive out of the city center. This is not on Devante, no – this is because Granada’s streets are extremely narrow, winding, cobblestone, and full of blind spots and pinpoint turns. In addition, we were relying on Google Maps and keeping an eye on the unfamiliar streets full of possible would-be disasters and navigating at the same time was not easy. We did end up with a successful entry onto the highway system that would bring us to Calpe, and of the 4 of us, (Paco included) I am not sure who was more relieved!
We drove for 4 hours and a bit, and then we started the descent to the seaside little city of Calpe. You could smell the sea salt air, feel our anticipation building as we wound through hillside tunnels — and then, between buildings and palm trees, the first flashes of aqua: the Mediterranean. We were no longer tired and weary travelers. Bri perked up in the back seat, I sat up straighter and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as every corner gave us more and more proof that we were finally arriving. Even Paco shifted in my lap to get a better view. I kept saying, “ooh look at that!” and “oh wow! Look over there!” and “NOT YOU Devante,” as the roads were once again narrow and winding and they needed his full attention. Poor Devante.
And then, there we were – backing up into a parking space outside of our apartment building. We had texted our landlord, who was there with his wife to greet us. We were looking forward to meeting Augustin and Paquita, they had been so kind and helpful and accommodating along every step of this planned move. We got out of the car and were engulfed first and foremost by the humidity and the warmth of the afternoon, and then we found ourselves enveloped in hugs and the typical kiss on each cheek from our hosts. We made the long awaited introductions, and everyone was talking at once. They only spoke Spanish, so to be fair, only Devante could truly understand what they were saying, and my head was swimming as I listened to Spanish spoken rapidly – they didn’t even seem to take a breath.
After unloading the car, we followed our new hosts to the elevator. If you have been to Europe, you can attest to the fact that many things are much smaller than we are used to. Elevators are no exception. We couldn’t all go up in one go, so Paquita, Bri and I went up first with what little bit of luggage we could manage. We entered an apartment that was full of bright natural light and breezy, friendly welcoming colors of white, blue and sea foam green. The focal point draws you immediately, and we followed that pull to the jewel of the home – the terrace. Paquita smiled and stood back, allowing us to be stunned by the view of the Mediterranean, the never ending horizon, the cliffs with little white villas jutting forth from its rockiness, the soft sand below, and the sultry, sticky sea zephyr that carried with it the scent of salt, brine and local vegetation.
I couldn't help it — my face contorted, tears rising before I could stop them. Every difficult minute of this whole journey seemed to resurface at once, and it all came down to this: the moment we'd been waiting for, entirely worth it. “Pardon,” I said to Paquita, embarrassed of my sudden lack of control. She smiled and drew me into an embrace, telling me “No pasa nada, no pasa nada. No te preocupes.” (It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t worry.) Of course this did not make it easier to get it together. By then, Devante and Augustin had made it upstairs, and Devante joined me on the deck. He also got a bit watery in the eyes as Augustin kept speaking, his Spanish flowing and expressive, his arms and hands animated with his speech. I can only guess that he was praising the view we now had and was feeling extremely proud of this place that had once been his parent’s.
(Views from our terrace below)
Paco surveying the kingdom Morro de Toix Little homes nestled hillside Moody post-storm sea Morning arriving to Calpe Beach Days
Soon, we were left to ourselves in our new delightful home. We started unpacking and setting up as much as we could with the one suitcase we each had brought with us. It didn’t look like much, but we didn’t care. We had what we needed. The apartment was furnished and had the basic things that one would need for cooking. We opened up all the windows and discovered a lovely cross breeze that instantly cooled the place down. Then, once we all felt a bit settled in from the drive and the excitement, we went downstairs with Paco and found something to eat. It was so incredibly hot and humid, you perspire just sitting there. How did the beautiful server look so crisp and clean and unbothered by the heat? We were sweating, I know I had a shine and Devante definitely had beads of sweat on his forehead. Bri was glistening as well, and we all sat in the little sea-side restaurant wondering if this was typical for Calpe evenings. We were itchy, uncomfortable, and so very warm. But we reminded ourselves that we were living the dream, and it was worth it.
After a hot and confusing trip to the grocery store that is 2 blocks away, we came home and put our treasures away. We were all in need of a shower, and just wanted to get some rest as well. Tomorrow would be a new day. As it turned out, the bed was extremely firm and it had a mattress protector on it, which I could hear and feel through the night. The pillow was one long pillow for two people. I don’t think I need to explain why this wasn’t going to work for us. We did end up closing up the place and turning on the air, the night was just too sticky and warm for any peaceful sleep. Bri discovered right away that she needed to keep her door open at night as her room had no air conditioning. Air conditioners here blow from a big unit hanging on the wall in each space. Our bedroom had an air conditioner, and there were two in the rest of the space, so we were able to close our door. Thankfully this apartment had two bathrooms as well, so no one was waking everyone up in the middle of the night should the need arise.
Over the next days, we were on a strict learning curve of all things Calpe. We were unprepared for the heat and the high humidity – completely unprepared. No one told us about this. Now, I realize when you stop and think about it, maybe some of you would know this right off. We are not those people. Every oceanside place I’ve been to has had a cool breeze and was even chilly at times. Devante, although from Sydney, Australia, said it didn’t even occur to him that this place would be humid. But here we were, getting our asses kicked by the humidity and the heat that felt insanely much like what I would imagine the Devil’s breath would be like. This kind of heat is exactly why siesta exists, it’s just unreasonable to be out in the heat if you don’t need to. Oh sure, the beach is full during this time, but even then there are about 1/3 of the late morning crowds that pack it in and venture toward home around the 2 or 3pm mark.
We learned that we needed one of those cart things that the old ladies wheel back and forth from the grocery store. Like I mentioned regarding Granada – grocery store visits are every other day or every 3rd day occurrence. We purchased a little cart that gets pulled behind a person, it looks like a little dolly with a bag on it. You will buy the groceries and bring it home like the locals do, knowing you’ll go again in the coming days. You will climb the cobblestone hill for 20 minutes to reach the Mercadona near the Old Town, because the one closest to you is up priced for the tourists. You will buy the milk and eggs off the non-refrigerated shelves, and you will go early, because by late afternoon, all the vegetables are picked over or non-existent.
We learned that like Granada, dinner here doesn’t begin until 9pm. We learned to pace our meals so that coffee was around 7am, breakfast was around 9, lunch is around 2 or 3pm and dinner is around 9pm. If you eat a heavy lunch, dinner can be light and easy. If you have the wine at lunch, you can snooze during siesta. Cafes and restaurants are busy at lunch, and if you want paella, this is the time to order it. Only tourists order it for dinner. (Which we did whilst in Valencia. Big mistake – it was not fresh.)
We learned that comfortable beach visits required an umbrella, an umbrella anchor, a low to the ground beach chair, and beach towels. We learned that everyone here wears bikinis. Everyone. I think since I’ve been here, I have seen about 3 or 4 one piece suits. It does not matter here if you’re tiny, in-between, fuller figured, much fuller figured, toned, flabby, both, average build – you are meant to wear the bikini. The bikini doesn’t judge, and neither does the beach crowd. We also learned that going topless is a thing amongst women of a certain age. It is common to see a woman strolling down the beach or sitting in her lounger without a top on. After some research, I learned that this is a very Spanish thing. Please do read this, I found it so fascinating:
“The historical piece — this is a generational cohort effect, not current rebellion
The women going topless today were likely in their teens, 20s, or 30s during the 1980s-90s peak of topless sunbathing in Spain. Spanish sociologist Dr. Patricia Soley-Beltrán points to that era as when going topless became widespread across Europe as both a gesture of freedom and a way of asserting ownership of one's body — arriving in Spain specifically on the heels of Franco's death (1975) and the end of decades of enforced Catholic modesty codes. For a generation coming of age right as that repression lifted, going topless wasn't shock value — it was a genuinely felt liberation, tied to a specific historical moment of Spain rapidly modernizing and secularizing (this period is often called La Movida).
The unabashed body language you may notice isn't defiance — it's more likely just an unselfconscious, deeply normalized habit formed 30-40+ years ago, when this was simply what freedom and bodily autonomy looked like for their generation. It became their baseline, not their statement.”
So seeing these women in their 60’s go topless gives me a whole additional reason to respect them, to wish to feel that free one day even. However, your girl won’t be going topless any time soon, at least not today.
We learned that the Old Town of Calpe is a jaunt uphill, and you really just need to focus on the forward motion of yourself, especially if it’s hot out, which it is, all the time. Calpe's Old Town (Casco Antiguo) is a small, tightly woven maze of whitewashed houses, cobbled streets, and flower-draped balconies tucked inland from the marina, feeling worlds away from the beach promenade despite being a 20 minute walk from it. Its most famous feature is a set of painted Spanish steps splashed in bold, colorful murals, alongside quiet plazas, tucked-away tapas terraces, and glimpses of medieval remnants from the town's Moorish and Christian past — a compact, walkable pocket of history that rewards wandering without much of a fixed route. It’s best to just go and explore, without having a plan in mind.
You know that massive rock in some of my photos? It’s called the Peñón de Ifach. We learned that the Peñón de Ifach is made of limestone, it juts straight up from the sea, rising 332 meters and visible for miles along the coast. Its sheer cliffs and near-vertical shape making it one of the most striking natural landmarks on the Costa Blanca. The hike to the summit is moderate to challenging: the first half, through a tunnel carved into the rock in 1918, is an easy, paved, family-friendly climb through pine forest, but the second half turns genuinely technical — steep, exposed, sometimes slippery rock requiring sturdy hiking shoes and some light scrambling with chain assists — making the full round trip (about 5km, 3-4 hours) rewarding, but it is a real physical effort. We learned that it’s best to start before the heat sets in, and it requires advance registration due to a daily visitor cap. It’s a free hike, and I’ll let you know what Bri thinks of it when she does it. Haha that’s right, I’m not there yet.
We are learning that Paco is a different dog here. Initially, we were concerned how he would be in Spain, with it being such a dog friendly place and dogs would be everywhere. Back in the States, he was the most barking, growly, gremlin dog ever when it came to interacting with other dogs. We took to calling him “Séamus the Irish” (pronounced "Shay-muss") as everywhere we went, he would “shame us” by being extremely unfriendly-like toward other dogs, whether provoked or not. He would even “go after” them when he was on a leash for walks. We are baffled every day here by his shift in behavior. He now sees dogs often while he’s on his walks, and he couldn’t care less. He notices, but he usually doesn’t make a peep. He sits in restaurants with us, and if dogs walk by, he just watches them calmly. He has adopted this whole chill persona; it’s like night and day. I read that because he constantly hears the crashing of the waves on the shore, it could be regulating him and reducing cortisol levels. He probably picks up on us being more relaxed also. In any case, we couldn’t be more thrilled with this new development.
We learned that family is everything here. People love to go for walks with their families, they eat with their families, they really spend the time. Young people Bri has met, talk about their families. Everyone loves to be surrounded with the people they love. They speak highly of their families and where they’re from. This is something I find lovely, and am taking in to myself.
And so, we are learning so much and being exposed to so many new things. I suppose we will start feeling at home and settled in, right about the time we leave for Albania in late October...
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