Calpe

At: Calpe, Spain

We spent the day in Calpe. It’s the city closest to Belgium on the more or less south-facing part of Spain. As such, it’s literally overrun with Belgian pensioners looking to relieve their aching rheumatic joints. We encountered more Belgians in one restaurant (“Dracula” — complete with menus set in Comic Sans) than in the previous two months. That is including Charleroi airport.

Calpe is an ugly amalgam of high-rise apartment blocks, aimed at stowing pensioners most efficiently while still giving them a view of the sea. Much like neighboring Benidorm, although that city is even uglier if possible. Both are a sad reminder of what happens when real estate developers are allowed to run wild.

The crack in Vite & Rêves’ window frame is most probably cosmetic. I checked from the inside and it doesn’t seem to go all the way through. I patched it up with some Sikaflex. That should keep the water out, which is the main point of a boat.

The Calpe marina had a nice bustling vibe to it because there was a rowing competition going on. What makes people go sit in a boat in freezing wind and being yelled at by the guy at the rudder, I will never know. I’ll ask Barbara, perhaps she can enlighten me.