View Larger Map
April 23 – Alicante to Benidorm, 2557 km
We pack quickly and pause to eat the toast and jam Jacinto has laid out for us before we leave.
Our journey to Benidorm isn’t that far today, but we have to be out early so Jacinto can get to work. Our bikes are thankfully still intact in his parking garage. We bid him adieu with regards and thanks for both him and Burquita, who leaves for work before him.
We follow the coastal highway, N332. There is not much notable scenery on the way to Benidorm. It passes through a smattering of coastal enclaves and two towns – El Campello and Villajoyosa. Benidorm itself is on a rocky point jutting into the Mediterranean with two sweeping, curved beaches on either side of the point. The old town is near the end of the rocky promontory. It is interesting, even charming, and much less commercial than Albufeira and other Algarve towns in Portugal. There are many British, Dutch and Belgian tourists here, as well as many northern European ex-pats. It is also a popular gay resort, though not nearly as popular at Sitges, which is less than an hour’s drive from Barcelona, a major gay hub. In a way, it reminds me of Key West with less charm and character.
We find a pleasant ‘2-star’ pension for only 2000 pesados per night, “very niiiice”, as Mike would say. It’s close to the beach, shopping and bars we’d like to visit, but then the town isn’t very large so anywhere would be walking distance. The food prices are low too, which pleases Mike even more than me. I pick up a copy of Tolstoy’s “Anna Karenin” and read it while lounging on the beach. 
This evening, after a cheap meal out, Mike and I go on a pub crawl through five gay bars near the beach. The first, “Minerva”, has an engaging owner/bartender named Rafael, who is a blond hunk with a fun sense of humour. The other patrons, mostly older, were open and friendly. The second bar, named “People”, is less friendly, but it has a second floor with lots of dark rooms and porn video room where sex was going on. I check it out briefly with Mike but he doesn’t want to stay. 
As the evening goes on I become drunker and hornier. Neither sensation is very pleasing. My little tryst in the sauna in Alicante yesterday has wetted my appetite, not quenched it, because sex isn’t really what I need. Visiting gay bars makes it worse, since even if I am able to meet someone I cannot stay even if I want to. I think it is better to forget about being a “gay” man as much as I can or I’ll just get too frustrated. 
On the way home I stop to gaze at a statue honouring drowned sailors, one sailor tenderly holding a limp drowned man in his arms. I am spellbound by the futility of the care expressed. A Spanish club goer stops at a fountain beside the statue, whips out his large cock and pisses into the fountain in a deliberate display of masculinity. He plays with it a bit as he shakes off the last drops, as though I wasn't there watching. Then he tucks it away and hurries off without looking back, as if he doesn't have he faintest interest in me. And he probably doesn't. I am really enjoying Anna Karenin though. I love Tolstoy’s writing style, his amazing psychological insights into the human experience. I wish I could have met him while he was alive. Apparently he went mad shortly before his death, but not in a good way.
PHOTO 1: Alicante and Santa Barbara Castle
PHOTO 2: coast south of Villajoyosa
PHOTO 3: looking inland to Mt Puig
PHOTO 4: Playa de Torres
PHOTO 5: Dove Park, Benidorm
PHOTO 6: Levante Beach, Benidorm
PHOTO 7: El Papagayo Bar
PHOTO 8: statue honouring drowned sailors
No comments:
Post a Comment