This is the coming coast. From the Portuguese border at dusty Ayamonte to the grim British enclave of Gibraltar, this windswept stretch of Spain’s deep south — a fabulous, scruffy expanse of Atlantic-facing Andalusia, so long neglected and unchanged — is undergoing a dramatic transformation into the coolest costa. Thankfully overlooked in the rush to ruin the Mediterranean and notoriously difficult to get to, this was the domain of those who prefer their Spain Spanish, a beguiling but challenging enclave of baking authenticity and wayward charm. Now, though, aided by numerous new motorways, cheap flights to local airports and a slew of trendy little hotels and restaurants, the coast of light has opened up. Still steeped in the lazy ways and deeply traditional mores that make this as much Africa as Europe, there is a new-found sophistication and élan that is attracting visitors to sample its delights.
The endless, impenetrable expanse of the Coto Doñana, one of Europe’s largest wetland reserves and a paradise for peering twitchers, divides this coast into two. To the west, in the province of Huelva, there are long, fine beaches, but much of it has been marred by repetitive holiday homes and graceless golfing resorts. Inland, though, lies the wondrous El Rocio. This tiny hamlet is the site of a spectacular annual pilgrimage, due to a propitious little statue that bleeds or weeps or some such miracle. When it does, gypsies and grandees from all over the region flock in their painted carts for a few days’ pious partying. To accommodate this, they have constructed an enormous wedding-cake church and a picture- perfect film-set Andalusian village. The rest of the year it sits idle, eerie, mad. You can wander its dusty streets, drink a cold beer in the empty bar and gaze out into the hovering miasma of the Coto. I don’t know whether the statue really has magical powers, but El Rocio certainly does.
And so does Sanlucar de Barrameda. The best of the coast of light starts here, on the eastern banks of the mighty Guadalquivir, in this charismatic estuary town. Combining the straight- backed aristocratic panache of nearby Jerez with the bedraggled ease of a still just-functioning fishing port, Sanlucar basks in the knowledge that it produces the best seafood and the most distinctive wine in all Spain. Salty, parched manzanilla sherry and local crustacea cooked over an open grill on the dishevelled beach of Bajo de Guia have become so popular that throughout August it is mobbed by noisy families from Seville. But the rest of the year it retains a powerful magnetism, especially when the blazing sun fades to white, while local gypsies exercise their horses on the sands and flamenco hangs in the still air.
Cadiz, the ancient city that sits at the centre of this region, is a fascinating, difficult labyrinth, edgy and mesmerising, with a history that seeps from every twisting sailors’ alley. But as a toiling port town of cranes and containers, it’s not really a base for tourists. Better to be just across the bay in El Puerto de Santa Maria, a pretty and jaunty place with a palm-lined promenade, a couple of excellent upmarket hotels, a cute funfair for the kids and a dazzling plethora of bars and restaurants. El Puerto is the most overtly touristy spot along this part of the coast and all the better for it. The ebullient Spanish families who frolic on its beaches all day and stay up wantonly late at night give the bustling streets a joyous, almost saucy seaside air. El Puerto is fun.
As you travel east through low-lying salt marshes now lacerated with motorways, the coast is hidden away behind dishevelled ribbon developments. But there are endless, flawless dune beaches, fairly busy in high season but otherwise waiting for you to pull up and plonk yourself in front of the roaring Atlantic. The sea here is colder and choppier than the Med, with waves big enough to attract clusters of athletic youths on bobbing boards. And the beaches are raw: no sun beds or shade, no real facilities, just miles of empty sand and the occasional lean-to restaurant where you can eat grilled fish just dragged from the deep, and marvel at the unspoilt wonder of it all.
The best coastal base in this stretch is probably Conil, where there are a few decent modern hotels, a magnificent beach and some excellent eateries, but it is a gurning runt of a town. If you want grace and charm, head 10 kilometres inland to the startling white hilltop redoubt of Vejer de la Frontera, a dazzling old Moorish citadel virtually unknown five years ago but now the local hot spot. Restored and polished to a burnished brilliance, boutique hotels and chic restaurants abound, and the population is now peppered with cool and cosmopolitan outsiders. But the austere authenticity of the place has somehow survived, and its slanted cubist streets and bougainvillea- decked squares still transport you to the fabled Islamic caliphate of Al-Andalus.
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Vejer overlooks Cape Trafalgar, site of that battle and a dramatic promontory with a lonely lighthouse. Between here and Tarifa — the last destination before you turn the corner to the Costa del Sol — there are large expanses of virgin pine forest, interspersed with a series of one-time fishing towns that now cater lazily for tourists. Los Caños de Meca is one for the club kids, a trendy naturist beach that throbs with trance music and the waft of Moroccan herbs. Barbate is a rough old place, a little too authentic for some, but the very best for cheap, just-caught fish. Nearby Zahara de los Atunes is a much more benign spot to lay your sombrero, with lots of cheap accommodation, a crumbling old town, a groovy hippie market and an even more resolutely laid-back feel than most. It’s also a good base for exploring Bolonia, with its spectacular Roman ruin right on the beach, where you can combine cultural and sybaritic pleasures.
From here on, the nature of the coast changes as you approach Tarifa, which has become an international mecca for tanned and honed watersport types. A string of trendy hotels catering to windsurfers, kitesurfers and wet-suit wearers of all kinds lines the waterfront, heralding the town itself. And in the old quarter there’s a happening feel, with a mass of sushi bars and boutiques, coffee shops and internet cafes, all busy with the babble of a dozen languages. If you’ve come to the Costa de la Luz for a taste of authentic Andalusia, this is probably not the spot, but it is extremely popular.
From here, you can gaze across the narrow divide to another world, or board a ferry for the short journey to Africa. Morocco lies just minutes ahead, but behind you, all along this coast where the light really is like no other, and Spain is on the fascinating cusp of old and new, is one of the most remarkable parts of our own continent.
Getting there: Ryanair (www.ryanair.com) flies to Jerez, less than an hour from the coast, and to Seville, 90 minutes down the AP4 (pay motorway) to Cadiz. Iberia (www.iberia.com) also flies from Heathrow to Seville. British Airways (0870 850 9850, www.ba.com) and Monarch (0870 040 5040, www.flymonarch.com) fly to Gibraltar. Malaga is served by almost everybody and is now just two hours from Tarifa along the motorway.
Getting around: you need to rent a car. Holiday Autos (0870 400 4461, www.holidayautos.co.uk) has inclusive weekly rates from £85, with pick- ups from any of the region’s airports. Or try Europcar (0845 758 5375, www.europcar.co.uk).
Where to stay: in Sanlucar de Barrameda, Posada de Palacio (00 34-956 364840, www.posadadepalacio.com; high-season, room-only doubles from £55) is an elegantly converted Andalusian palace up in the genteel old part of town, which is now a quietly cool place to stay.
In El Puerto de Santa Maria, Hotel Monasterio San Miguel (956 540440, www.jale.com/monasterio; B&B doubles from £68) is a grand, 18th-century monastery made into a swanky but still laid-back hotel with a lovely garden and pool.
In Conil, Hotel Fuerte Conil (952 861500, www.hotelfuerteconil.com; B&B doubles from £88) is a large, slightly bland family hotel with all the facilities and a perfect setting above a splendid beach.
In Vejer de la Frontera, La Casa del Califa (956 447730, www.lacasadelcalifa.com; room-only doubles from £47) is a funky Moroccan-style hotel right on the main square: it’s beautifully done and has a good restaurant, but can be noisy during feria in April. Or try Casa Cinco (956 455029, www.hotelcasacinco.com; B&B doubles from £75), a tiny but lovely hotel in a restored courtyard house up a blind alley. No children.
In Zahara de los Atunes, Hotel Gran Sol (956 439309; B&B doubles from £77) is a fairly standard but very reasonable hotel, wonderfully situated right on this marvellously bedraggled beach and just yards from the old town.
In Tarifa, Hurricane (956 684919, www.hurricanehotel.com; B&B doubles from £92) is actually about five kilometres outside town, on a straggly beach. It’s a very trendy hotel with basic rooms, but it has a wonderful garden and a cool pool. Or try Posada La Sacristia (956 681759, www.lasacristia.net; B&B doubles from £92), a boutique hotel, right in the heart of the whirlwind of the old town.
