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With the best will in the World no advertising copy writer could describe the Mediterranean Coast of Spain as untouched. So it's remarkable just how much variety, and beauty, there still is amongst the concrete hotels, the rows of identical houses and the industrial estates.

A little while ago I mentioned the Mar Menor and la Manga strip. For those of you with longish memories that's the place where those poor Leicester City footballers were wrongfully accused of sexually assaulting some local women back in 2004.

Anyway, we hadn't done the northern end of the strip until today. I thought it was pretty impressive. The weather is still warm and it was very peaceful as we drove down the little road surrounded on both sides by sparkling, shallow, salty water. The sea is let into the salt pans which are then sealed so the wind and sun can drive off the water to leave behind big fat salt crystals. A couple of JCBs and a lorry were working one of the salt pans. The racket from the diesel engines, the metal shovels and those annoying reverse beeper things shattered the quiet yet, not far away, hundreds of flamingos waded around or shoved their heads below the water looking for lunch.

We got ours, lunch that is, near where a group of wise cracking long pole anglers were camped out in their picnic chairs with a view out towards the high rise skyline of La Manga strip.


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