It Was Spring 1970

By Bob Reed

I  first came to Torremolinos in the early Spring of 1970. I had just graduated from University and was
on a project to see the world.

I had worked as an extra on a film in Mexico and later in Austria and was told that I could work on another film starring Mick Jagger to be filmed in Almeria (Jumping Jack Flash).

I, and my girlfriend, Kristi, hitched hiked down to Spain to wait for the movie because London, where I had gone because the movie in Austria had paid me to return a vehicle from Austria, was too expensive.

We settled in Granada, very close to the Alhambra. I used to do my runs (something ("Footing") that the Spanish thought very strange in those days) around the old palace. The proposed movie was eventually cancelled, and although I did travel to Almeria where the Film "The Horseman" was being filmed, but it was almost finished.

We returned to Granada, and I looked for work. I could find a few hours teaching English, but it wouldn't have been enough to keep me alive. Kristi and I used to have tapas at some little bar where there were a couple of American gay fellows who lived in Granada at the time. We became friends, and when they heard of my predicament they suggested I go to the Costa del Sol, because that is where they said, the English language was valued.

Welcome to the Costa del Sol

So, early in March 1970, Kristi and I traveled down to the Costa. We stayed in some poor little hotel in Malaga close to the train station. I soon learned that if there was any employment to be found, it was not in Malaga, and we would take day trips out to Torremolinos.

I walked up and down the carretera, knocking on any door that looked like they might want some help. In those days, no one, no extranjero, could work in Spain without a work permit. So, I didn't have much luck. Eventually, I applied at the Berlitz language school at the bottom of San Miguel near the tower.

The lady who ran the school was a sweet French woman, Jeanine?---can't remember her name, sorry. She offered me a couple of hours a day teaching English, but once again, I had to tell he that the 150 Pts an hour would not support me. She asked, what else could I do? I said that I had taught swimming in the USA.

She happened to know a Michelle LaCour, a French Moroccan fellow who ran Las Barcas, the beach club in front of Playamar that was just building it's second stage.

She yanked me out of the language school, got into her Mini and we sped down to Playamar. I waited at als Barcas for awhile before meeting Michele and watched as girls and women walked about wearing "Braun" bikinis. These were made of a sort of cheese cloth, almost transparent.

I saw the patrons having lunch at tables, speaking several different languages as the conversation went around from one to another. I knew that If I could do it, this was the place for me! I met Michelle and he was OK with me and introduced me to the American fellow who was the Playamar manager at the time, Richard Kirshman.

Richard said he would hire me for the next season as a swim teacher, but I first had to supply him with some documentation that he could show the Spanish government that made me more hireable than a Spanish citizen, AND that he couldn't hire me at that time. I would have to come back in May, before the season began.

Kristi and I returned to Granada. In May, Kristi got on a train to travel back to London for her return flight. The weather in Granada had been cold and rainy, but the following day was sunny and warm. I checked out of the hotel, walked down to the road to the Costa, bought myself a nata helado, stepped out onto the road and stuck my thumb out.

Take Two: Welcome to Torremolinos

Bob Reed - Swim Races at Playamar 

The ride I got was with some 'suave' guy who wanted to drive the back roads to Marbella. Interesting. I took a bus to Torremolinos and got dropped off in front of the Plaza Gamba Alegre. It was late in the afternoon and hot when I walked into "Harry's bar", then located on the Northern side of the square. Marge, an American woman of maybe late 50's in age was in charge (although Marge being a free spirit and a wanderer, may have been younger).

After months on the road and living in Granada, American music played on a 38 RPM record player was very welcome - the age of Der Kinder von Torremolinos! I only had about 200 Pts but indulged myself with two 15 Pts San Miguels.

Later, I looked for lodging. I found a place on kind of the Western side of Torremolinos, sort of up the hill, calle Huespuedes Antonio, 50 Pts (1 dollar = 70 Pts) a day. 15 Pts extra if you wanted a cold shower.

The next day, I walked down to Playamar and checked in with Michelle LaCour. Oddly, I thought he was surprised to see me. Not good. I had obtained the documentation that Kirshman had requested and presented it to him. He said there was going to be some day's delay as they had to apply to the Govt.

Days led onto a couple of weeks. I had no food. There was a pretty Swedish girl who lived at the same pension and had very blond hair and clear ceylon-sapphire eyes, that would go out at night, eat, and go to bars and later come back with some bread and goodies from her meals, and she would stay the night. Youth!

Eventually, I ran completely out of money. 

I did keep one Peseta as sort of a luck charm. I haven't seen it in years. I talked to the lady who ran the pension, showed her my application papers, and she agreed to wait till I got paid, but showers were out of the question. Further, the bed began to be infected with bed bugs. I went down to Playmar and talked to Kirshman, explaining my eating predicament. He hooked me up with LaCour who had a work crew replacing the palm fonds on top of the casitas and umbrellas. I did that and didn't get any pay but I could eat one mid-day meal with the workers under the Las Barcas swimming pool restaurant, big MF'n 5 gallons of red wine, all you wanted!

So then, one glorious day in late may, the permiso arrived. I walked around the Pool at Las Barcas and explained to the families there what I could do. A German family, although skeptical, agreed to hire me for their 7 year old tall straight daughter, Elisa, I think, who didn't swim. This little girl was not only very athletic but followed instructions to the letter. Lots of residents - potential clients - watched. She swam the 25 meter pool after 5 days of lessons! I never looked back.

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One time some guy comes by the pool at Las Barcas and asks if we---my American roomate, Don Morrison, and I---would like to be in a movie.  Of course, we said 'yes', and this is the result.  (I'm the first fellow, Don is the guy with the elastic thingy).

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