The sky was silver today – not blue, not grey, but silver. The Mediterranean was a shimmering haze, so it was hard to tell where the horizon actually was. The cool winds of the last few days were gone, and the marina was a mosaic of picture-perfect mirror reflections. Dressed in t-shirts and jeans, and not a mink coat in sight, we went out for today’s adventure.

The car is parked in a rented garaged some distance from the apartment. The owners of the garage space own at least five bikes, but no car. So whenever we use our rental car, we have to manoeuvre it past the bikes – we haven’t hit one yet!

The route to the car park is lined with shops and cafes. Today we went to ‘Soho’, a little café with pink napkins on the tables and yellow, pink and blue chandeliers. We shared a slice of tortilla which was at least 4 inches high, taking up at least one-third of a dinner plate, and garnished with an entire tomato cut into wedges, drizzled with oil and balsamic. It was fantastic and the abuela (grandmother) in the kitchen nearly cried with joy when Ross praised her cooking. Sufficiently fed, we walked the rest of the way pick up the car.

Today we went to Estepona. It’s a coastal town about 40 minutes away, and despite a population of over 70,000 people, it’s managed to maintain its village charm and character. The Paseo Maritimo (promenade) is wide and tiled, and runs the full length of the beach. It’s dotted with seafront bars, restaurants, flower beds and seats made from brightly coloured mosaic tiles.

Away from the beach, in the old town, the narrow streets are steep and cobbled, lined with cafes and tapas bars. The streets are mostly pedestrianised and are embellished with pots of geraniums hanging from the walls. The real estate is not as expensive here as Marbella – we looked at apartments for sale. We always look at apartments for sale.

Ross decided to get his hair cut while we were in Estepona. The barber was busy, but as his shop was right across from our tapas bar, where we had ordered octopus drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice. The barber gestured that he’d call Ross over when he was ready.

For a man with next to no hair, Ross managed to pay 25 Euro ($36) for a haircut! It involved a shave with a cut throat blade, a trim and a massage (pummelled to within an inch of his life if you listen to Ross’ version). Plus, he walked out with a tiny tube of hand cream (for an extra 12 Euros), which apparently cures every ailment from dry skin, to sun burn and mosquito bites. The barber left his shop and stood next to our table, explaining the many benefits of the cream with an enthusiastic mix of miming and Spanglish. Ross looks very handsome now, but it didn’t stop me from laughing at him for a good 30 minutes or so.

Puerto Banus is a place where people bring and display their cars – big beautiful, expensive cars. I know nothing about cars, but even I can recognise the high-end brands and the enormous price tags they involve. We often stroll around at night and look at the cars – Bentleys, Porsche Spyders, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis. Tonight we saw an S-Class convertible Mercedes – which apparently was very exciting. But my favourite car is a little red Fiat 500. We think it’s about 50 years old. It’s got the original leather suitcase strapped on the back (well it did last night, tonight it was missing – I hope no one stole it). Tonight it was parked in a different place, right next to a new version of the same red Fiat 500. I took a picture. The marina in the background is full of enormous yachts and motor cruisers.

That’s Spain: wealthy tourists, the working Spanish families, the glittering tourist strips against the backdrops of the remote white villages, the enthusiasm, the fashion, the food and the wine. Not to mention the Spanish way of living life on the streets.

I love Spain.