Bob Reed (1970-78)

I lived in Torremolinos off and on from 1970 until 1978. I taught swimming at Playamar.

Torremolinos, in those days, was truly a uniquely wonderful place and time. Franco was in power and in the early 70's, everyone respected the Guardia Civil and the law.

The bars and nightclubs were full of people, all from different countries, speaking different languages, and yet there was very little violence or crime. I used to tell Americans who would critize Spain as a Dictatorship that it was true, Spain had a Dictator, but a lady could walk unaccompanied at 3 in the morning in the worst parts of Malaga and not be molested. That was not true in any American city.

Everything was so inexpensive. A gin and tonic would normally sell for about 30 cents American in any little bar or restaurant.  Tina's was THE popular bar. After Tina, who used to sing along with the stereo, left, an Englishman bought Tina's but left it in the hands of Manolo, who was the bartender and could handle crowds of 200 people or more all by himself, or maybe with one helper. Crowds spilled into the street. Later, Manolo bought the "Duke of Wellington" and did well there.

After Tina's we would head over to a Disco, usually Boga Boga, where Juan Tijero was the Maitre'd. Juan died in a car accident in the 80's but his widow, Judith, and their two son's, still live on the Costa del Sol.

The Boga Boga was the cutting edge of Discos in the 70's. I'm sure there was no place finer in NYC or any other big city in the world. The Manager was a man (also) named Manolo who had previously managed the hotel Mamounia in Marakesh. He was a wonderful avuncular man, who loved jokes, and did not marry until he was in his late forties. He was married in the cathedral of Malaga and cried at his own wedding. Later his wife gave birth to a baby girl, Miriam, who was the light of Manolo's life. Unfortunately, Manolo suffered a stroke and passed away shortly after the birth of his adored daughter.

Ah, the stories that can be told about Torremolinos!

I would be glad to supply more little vignets of the life as it existed back then. Cabeza de Vaca, a good fellow that loved the women. Big Mike, a wonderful man who died on San Miguel one warm day. Little Lynn who was adopted by an English family and brought up on The Costa del Sol as one of their children.

Sue White, who had a heart of gold, and whose American husband died just as she was giving birth to there first child. After Franco, times changed and there is the story of the shooting murder in a disco of a pleasant Morrocan man who apparently owed some Germans money.

The unexplained fall of a woman from one of the Playamar towers---she left a 12 inch dent in the ground below. The story of a poor street artist who was paid to do a small drawing but left town. Three years later, he showed up and delivered the drawing.

A man comes to Torremolinos with his family, wife and children, and much to his own surprise, falls in love with a Spanish boy. He takes his family back to Great Britian and comes back to Spain where he and they boy live together and have a successful restaurant. Stuff like that.