As summer winds down and mainland Spain begins to shrug the tourists from its fringes subtle changes can be felt.
Earlier, in the heady months of high summer, the sun can be relentless. As if fired from a cannon the moment dawn breaks it sits high above showing no tolerance of mad dogs or English men. But now, as September rolls by, it’s trajectory mellows, the shadows lengthens, and the light softens a little.
The rich hues of Bougainvillea and deep greens of palms and citrus groves appear more vibrant than ever in the soft warm light. Clouds do now make their presence felt more frequently, occasionally dousing the scorched land, the upside however being the canvas they provide the sun to paint glorious dawn skies and evening sunsets.
The waiters and restaurateurs convey a sense of apathy, their seasons fortunes now either won or lost. As the intense heat of summer relents you can almost hear a collective sigh of relief breathed by the land and its people.
Having visited various parts of Spain at different times of the year I have to say that the Costa Blanca in September is one of my favourites. Yes, the bluebird days of high summer are no longer guaranteed but they are still plentiful, and now with the sun a little lower the light takes on a certain magic quality. A quality of light that triggers idealistic rose tinted childhood memories, movie perfect images of hazy warm days that feel they will never end.
So as the UK begins to lose its grasp on summer there can be few places better, to sample a little two wheeled heaven, than the Costa Blanca. And that’s where you’ll find me, chasing long shadows across glass perfect asphalt in the Marina Alta Mountains.
Hasta luego amigos.