Marbella Club

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Alex Perry
Wed, 8 May 2013

It’s 23 days since my 30th birthday and I’m standing inside the front door of my south west London home, preparing myself for the wretched weather waiting to confront me on the other side.

The sun is nowhere near showing its face and I make a point of reassuring myself that, in just three hours time, I will be in southern Spain.  

Marbella – or ‘Marbs’ as it has become known among the young generation thanks to a certain reality television programme about orange people from Essex – is the destination. Sun, sea and Sangria are the reasons. (And golf, of course – just don’t tell the better half that…)

We step out the taxi and into the glorious sunshine. It’s the early October but the temperature is hovering rather pleasingly around the mid-20 mark. We share a look which seems to combine satisfaction with relief.

As it’s a special occasion, we’ve booked to stay in the Marbella Club – a stunning five-star resort overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

Having settled into our pleasant villa, we wander down to the shore. I dig my toes into the sand. The ocean resembles a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket. On the horizon, the Rock of Gibraltar stands tall and proud. Just behind it, the Moroccan coast glistens in the hazy air.

We stroll along the golden beach glistening in the autumn sunshine, stopping only take in our surroundings. And in this moment, I am happy.

When we reach the town, I’m surprised. In my younger days I went on a couple of what I believe are known as ‘lads holidays’. You know the kind – where you and several mates board a budget flight to the bleakest point of an otherwise pleasant holiday island before consuming more vodka in a week than the whole of Russia combined – usually from a container not built for drinking from.

But despite the reputation, Marbella is a delight. Classy restaurants and stylish bars line the marina, while the kind of people who wear pink sweatshirts slung over their shoulders ponder where to eat, where to drink, where to see out the evening.      

But we’re staying at the Marbella Club, so, full of Sangria, we head back to sample the finest cuts of meat on offer in the resort’s Grill Bar.

Several courses and a dip in the Champagne Bar later and it’s back off to the villa. I do have an 8am tee time, after all…



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