A blue experience, with the sounds of the sea – El Palo Beach, East End 📷 Málaga – Spain

Every part of the city has its own special charm; each one is distinct from the others, and the same goes for the beaches. Each has its own particular and unique style that sets it apart from the rest. Of course, you have to pay attention to the details. I think what makes each beach unique, out of the many there are, is not just the colour of the sand, but the neighbourhood to which it belongs.

I’ll start by saying that I think this is one of the beaches I’ve liked the most, because although it isn’t as remote as Peñón del Cuervo beach where there are no longer any houses and it’s on the outskirts of the city this one is very quiet and family friendly. It’s in another neighbourhood that used to be a fishing village, to the east of the city.

It is very similar to the beach that follows it, Pedregalejo Beach, but in my opinion I think there are fewer people, and the views from the different sections of the beach are more idyllic. The beach I’m telling you about today is called El Palo and stretches for 1,200 metres, although this time I only explored the eastern section, which is next to El Dedo Beach.

That’s why the walk began at the 2013 monument to Emilio Prados, created by the artist Andrés Montesanto as a tribute to the poets of Málaga. It is made of white reinforced concrete, with some colour on the face and the other side of the book.

As I mentioned, every beach seems to have different sand, both in terms of grain size and colour. This reminds me of when I first arrived and my friend who lives in Argentina told me that the sand I was showing her, from La Malagueta beach, was just like the sand in the town where she lives, even though to me they looked very different. That sand was white or very light in colour, whereas the sand at El Palo beach is much darker and, in this case, does resemble the one she mentioned. It’s incredible how, within the same city, there are so many beaches that differ from one another.

It’s a type of sand you can walk on without sinking, which doesn’t hurt your feet because it’s so soft, and where you can spend hours enjoying yourself.

The whole seafront promenade is full of restaurants, some very large, with a village-like feel and, as I said, a family atmosphere, although there are tourists too, though not as many as on the beaches closer to the centre. The buildings are one or two storeys high and each one is different. You can tell they’ve been renovated over time, from simple fishermen’s cottages to more modern homes, yet still simple and beautiful.

There’s something that characterises this neighbourhood, which I’ll show you another time when we take a stroll through these parts: between the houses on the beachfront and those in the second row, there’s a street where no cars pass, as if it were a long, wide pedestrianised street; and furthermore, between each terraced house there are narrow passageways through which you can access that pedestrianised street and enjoy a completely different stroll, where the locals have pots of plants at their doorsteps, tables and chairs, and chat amongst themselves. It’s something I believe is very old, dating back to other eras, and I love that.

It doesn’t feel like a stroll through a big city, let alone a tourist one, but rather like a quieter, more secluded spot, even though there were plenty of beach bars serving fried fish, a great tradition around here.

The sun was shining high in the sky, and another feature of this beach is that it seems to be divided into several smaller sections; there are sort of little beaches because there are paths leading out into the sea, and you can stroll along them close to the waves and far from the buildings. In fact, in this first part, I ventured quite far down one of the paths, leaving the city far behind, and it was wonderful, you can only hear the sea.

Of course, as with all the city’s beaches, the beach huts are always adorned with beautiful murals, in colours that stand out against the blue, white and green of the surroundings, and I love that, because I can find art at every turn.

As I usually do when I visit a beach area, my walk takes me along the promenade, then down onto the sand, where I head towards the sea, because I love it, especially watching the foam caress the sand. Then I return to the promenade and take photos, not just of the sea view but of everything around me, right down to the houses, the restaurants, everything.

Another feature that’s particularly common on the beaches to the east of the city is the number of boats and ships often seen on the sand. There are many places that hire out boats for trips and water sports, and I often spot them on my walks in all sorts of sizes and colours.

Something I’d like to highlight and which I loved was seeing signs with quotes, like this one.
“The sea also chooses harbours where it can laugh, like sailors, the sea of those who are.” Hernández, Gilabert, Miguel. (1910–1942)

And as I walked, I came to a beautiful pergola that provided some shade thanks to the vegetation around it, and right there was another entrance to the sea, so of course I headed there to explore it.

The sand was soft and fine; it felt great to touch it, and above all, it was lovely to see the beautiful things the sea brings to the shore.

What’s more, I spotted a boat on the shore one of the many there and that entrance to the sea struck me as even more beautiful than the previous one. I don’t know how many more entrances there are from here on; the beach seems to be much longer and wider than the signs suggest, and it’s lovely to take it all in.

When I returned from that short walk to the pergola, I noticed a strange monument, if I can call it that, which had some inscriptions on it. If you glance at it quickly, it looks like the writing is upside down, but it could also be in another language. What do you think? I’ve already figured out what it says.

On this occasion, my tour ends here; I’m taking a break to come back another day and continue the long journey. Thank you very much for joining me today; I send you my warmest regards. See you soon.
Amonet.