My short break in Alicante [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Gallivanting in Alicante…

As I drove into Alicante, I gave a happy sigh of relief. This was just what I wanted to escape to, a beautiful, relaxing, city. As a travel writer for the ‘Around the World in 80 Days’ magazine, I was often gallivanting around different parts of the world. In the last two months I had been to Sydney, Marakesh in Morocco, Bruges in Belgium, Amsterdam, San Francisco and my last stop had been New York. As much as I love New York, after a straining nine hour flight to Spain, all I longed for was a relaxing city to tour around for the day. So after spending the night at a hotel in the small town of Santa Pola, I headed north to Alicante.

The scene was beautiful as I entered Alicante. Ahead of me the sun was shining on the Benacantil Mountain and the hills surrounding it, highlighting the different shades on the rocky ridges. To my right was the glistening blue sea, with the waves rolling gently to the shores of Alicante. Not quite sure where to visit first, I thought I’d spotted a prison to my left, because of the tall brick walls obscuring the view of what was on the other side. However, on spotting the lush greenery and tall palm trees, I realised it was a nature reserve—far different from a prison. Deciding that this would be my first stop, I signalled off the main road and pulled up in the car park.

El Palmeral Park

I had arrived at El Palmeral Park, a lush green nature reserve which can only be described as beautiful. Small paths twist and wind off in different directions, taking visitors to all sorts of areas of the park. I found myself walking underneath a huge canopy of trees, with all varieties of birds sitting above me, chirping to each other. That was when I almost fell upon bird droppings on the ground, but as my shoe slipped and I went backwards, I managed to grab a tree branch to hold myself up. Congratulating myself, I dusted myself down and walked on, before realising I had ants crawling up my hand. Jumping with fright, I flicked them off, much to the delights of some small Spanish children who seemed to find my mishaps quite amusing.

Walking onwards, I came across a small lake, in which a group of fluffy white ducks were swimming contentedly, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. I wasn’t quite sure if they were Spanish, since I’ve seen the same ducks in the Lake District, and feeling I had found some British companions, I sat myself down on the bench overlooking the lake and tucked into the juicy orange I had bought with me. It was just then that I saw a huge pelican waddling towards me and I had to laugh. Not at the way he moved, but at the awful mullet-like hairstyle he had. It was indeed a curly mullet, which was even worse. He stopped, surveyed me for a while, before joining his fellow ducks on the lake. He didn’t seem to mind so much about his hairstyle and I could only feel sorry for him.


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Gallivanting in Alicante >

Gallivanting in Liverpool >


Gallivanting in the Lake District >


Gallivanting in London >

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