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Floyd on Spain

By Keith Floyd

Published 1992

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The beach at Torremolinos is empty. The colourful beach bars are shuttered and the white apartment blocks are still. The Mediterranean laps gently in this warm early Spanish morning as a huge yellow sun eases itself over the far horizon. The crew are setting up their equipment. I am sitting on the gunnel of a large rowing boat, waiting for the fishermen to come. A yellow pie-dog, a breed thrown back to the time of the Pharaohs, is watching too, hoping for some food. He looks sinister and hi