Spain - Trouble in Torremolinos

After the solo trip to Spain and a couple of days in Valencia, Jim was eager to meet back up with Tom and explore Spain together. While traveling alone offered a certain level of freedom, it could also get extremely lonely.

Separating for a day or longer in Europe had been different, since there were fellow, English-speaking backpackers everywhere you went. But in 1977, Spain was not on the list of “must-sees” for backpackers. Neither Tom nor Jim heard even the most seasoned backpacker say, “Going to Spain! Don’t miss the Alhambra!” Few of the people in the pensione, restaurants, or shops spoke English, and Jim’s rudimentary Spanish produced little more than puzzled looks when he attempted conversation. In one journal entry, Jim complained that he couldn’t even eavesdrop on nearby conversations, since they were all in rapid Spanish.

Tom seemed eager to reunite as well, for when they unexpectedly met on the train platform in Valencia, waiting to catch the 1:08 AM train to Granada, they nearly hugged. Guys didn’t do that back then. The gods apparently approved of this early reunification, for the boys found an empty compartment and were able to stretch out and sleep during the overnight trip.

They spent the next morning in Granada, mostly exploring the aforementioned Alhambra. Tom resumed his tour-guide ways, reading aloud about how the Alhambra became a beautiful symbol of the flourishing  Islamic period on the Iberian Peninsula in the 13th century.  This was a rare period of time of tolerance of religions as Muslims, Christians, and Jews were able to contribute to this high point of the Moorish world until the famous year of 1492 when Spain's Isabella and Ferdinand conquered Spain.  But what remained, the Alhambra, was a wonderful combination of courtyards filled with pools, fountains, and intricate carvings. This beautiful palace dominates the Granada landscape still today!

Eager for warmer weather, the boys decided to take an afternoon train from Granada to Malaga, on the Costa del Sol. Today, you can make the trip in under two hours. Back then, it took five.

For Tom, the trip was another welcome opportunity to let the scenery speak for the country. He had expected Spain to resemble much of Mexico—dry, dusty, maybe a little rough around the edges. And there was a stark beauty to the land, even more rugged than southern Italy. But then the magic happened: the railway curved right along the Mediterranean coastline. On one side, the endless blue sea; on the other, the Pyrenees rose majestically.  Totally unexpected. Totally unforgettable. As he read in Let’s Go, the rocky soil, their major crops were not from the ground but from trees, as olives and oranges were dominant in village markets.  The local architecture reflected the harshness of the soil with large stone blocks covered with adobe plaster, apparently the best protection from the brutal sun, which even in December was making an impact.

The Spanish countryside offered plenty of time to reflect on whether to end the trip... or somehow keep going.

Both Tom and Jim found the Spaniards to be warm, kind, and appreciative of the boys’ pathetic attempts to communicate in Spanish.  And best of all, Spain was easy on a backpacker’s wallet, as they discovered when they reached Malaga. As they searched for lodgings, they met two Canadian girls, Jackie and Shelly, who told them to push on to Torremolinos, only a half-hour away, where the rooms were cheaper and the nightlife more… existent.

On the beach, Torremolinos

This turned out to be an excellent suggestion. The boys found a large room, complete with a full bathroom, kitchen, and fireplace, for only 275 pesetas a night—about $4 back then! They were also close to the beach, and the town’s vibe was young, carefree.

Tom and Jim, though, were not feeling particularly carefree. They were now just days away from the expiration of the Eurail passes—and their savings. While Tom had made up his mind to take a chance on finding work in Garmisch, the German ski resort, Jim was still vacillating. He wanted to stay. Tom encouraged him to stay and go to Garmisch with him. Jim was torn.

He made up his mind the next morning at 2 am. He’d had trouble sleeping, knowing that a decision had to be made. To try to tire himself, he went into the bathroom so as not to disturb Tom, and continued reading “The Onion Field,” by Joseph Wambaugh. It wasn’t Shakespeare or Hemingway, but the writing was so clear, so captivating. At one point, he read a passage so moving that he closed the book sharply. He’d made up his mind.

The next morning, as he and Tom walked through town to find a breakfast place, he told Tom that he felt compelled to return to the States and attempt to write a novel.

“I can’t explain it,” he said. “It’s just something I need to do. Something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid.”

Tom didn’t react. They walked on in silence. Finally, Jim said, “Well?”

Tom hesitated. “Okay,” he said. “I just hope your ego can take it.”

Jim stopped, not sure he’d heard correctly.

Tom turned. “You’re a good writer. But you have a big ego. Not sure you can handle it.”

There was more, and it got uglier—at least, for Jim. Tom covered a lot of ground: Jim’s stubbornness, his inflexibility, his seeming inability to let people get close to him. Tom predicted a very lonely future for his friend.

Jim was too surprised to respond. It was so out of character for Tom to be even the slightest bit confrontational. And here he was, jabbing away at Jim like Muhammad Ali. The best counterpunch Jim could muster was, “Well, I’m surprised you had the guts to say all that.”

A cool-down period was needed and taken. They set off in different directions, both wondering if they’d be able to stand each other during the final days of the trip.

###

 That was the "Then." Watch the Video below for the "Now" reflections on "Trouble in Torremolinos."

Comments? C'mon, tell us what you think. We'd love to hear from you!