Situated atop the walls of Almería’s 10th-century Alcazaba, overlooking a patchwork of rooftops cascading down to the Mediterranean, I reflect on Gerald Brenan’s travel memoir, “South from Granada,” where he described his first impressions of Almería in 1920: “Certainly, it seemed that the sea was doubly Mediterranean here, and the city… contained within it echoes of distant civilisations.”
Brenan, a British explorer and Hispanist associated with the Bloomsbury group, made the journey to Almería from his home near Granada to acquire additional furniture in anticipation of a visit from Virginia Woolf and her companions. A century later, my own arrival in a three-decade-old van from London may not carry the same historical weight, but as I gaze at the almost dreamlike glow of the sea and the labyrinth of ancient streets below, I too experience a sense of stepping back in time.
In Brenan’s era, he would have been considered a unique visitor to the region. Today, Almería, unlike its neighbor Málaga just a couple of hours down the coast, remains relatively untouched by international tourism, despite their notable similarities. Both cities boast ancient maritime histories, charming tree-lined avenues, a beautiful beach, a Moorish fortress, and a 16th-century cathedral. However, Almería has largely evaded the tourist crowds that have overwhelmed Málaga, which is currently grappling with the challenges of overtourism. Almería evokes the essence of Málaga before its revitalization in the 1990s, when it transformed from a gritty port city into a polished commercial waterfront.
Located 120 miles east along the coastline in Spain’s economically challenged southeastern region, Almería sits in Europe’s only desert and feels like an isolated outpost, closer to Morocco than to Madrid. The atmosphere here conveys a sense of distance from the bustling centers of activity and funding. However, with a new high-speed rail line expected to connect Almería to Madrid by 2027, along with planned upgrades to the docks for luxury cruise ships that will include green spaces, the city’s status as Andalucía’s hidden gem may soon change.
At present, Almería remains a thriving working port, characterized by its genuine charm where intricately designed but slightly dilapidated townhouses coexist with worn mid-century shops. The unmistakable scent of diesel and fish in the coastal air serves as a reminder that the waterfront is primarily a hub for commerce. While Málaga’s port has become a prime spot for superyacht enthusiasts, Almería’s docks primarily facilitate ferry services to Algeria and Morocco. The nearby streets feel reminiscent of North Africa, with Arabic signs advertising ferry tickets, shops offering Moroccan tea glasses, and a handful of African fishermen mending their nets.
If you’re willing to venture out of town through a barren expanse of sun-bleached concrete warehouses, you can enjoy a delightful seafood meal at bar 900 Millas, an authentic hidden gem nestled between loading bays, serving fresh catches from the local fish market. Arrive at 4 AM on a weekday for breakfast alongside local fishermen, or join the stylish Almeríenses for Sunday lunch.
We chose to stay at the tranquil Hotel Catedral, a 19th-century mansion located in the heart of town on the pedestrian Plaza de la Catedral. Its rooftop bar provides stunning views of the cathedral and the partially restored Alcazaba, which is beautifully lit each night atop the hill.
Wherever you explore in Almería, the Alcazaba dominates the skyline. Under the bright Mediterranean sun, its cool stone walls, cypress and palm trees, along with gardens featuring flowing water channels, create a serene retreat infused with the scent of rosemary. For those who have been herded through Granada’s Alhambra under strict schedules, a morning spent at Almería’s Alcazaba offers a refreshing alternative. Admission is free for European citizens, including Britons, allowing for a leisurely exploration of the breathtaking 360-degree views spanning from the arid mountains to the sparkling sea and the historic Arab quarter of La Chanca below.
Once home to Gypsies and fishermen, La Chanca is integral to Almería’s cultural identity. This collection of cave dwellings and small houses cascades down the hill towards the docks, alternating between roughness and charm. It served as a muse for the Movimiento Indaliano, an avant-garde artistic and cultural movement that arose in the area following World War II. The Doña Pakyta art gallery in the city center showcases a permanent collection of the movement’s works, many depicting scenes and residents of La Chanca, offering a fascinating glimpse into mid-20th-century Almería.
Close to the Alcazaba, Teteria Almedina, a Moroccan café, serves steaming mint tea and refreshing mint lemonade on a lush terrace. The old town is filled with bustling tapas bars, with Casa Puga being one of Almería’s oldest, often crowded with patrons. Known as one of Europe’s sunniest cities, Almería embraces a lengthy afternoon siesta, almost like a cultural mandate (attempting to conduct business during this time is futile), and weekends are dedicated to social activities. As we move from one lively plaza to another, I find myself admiring the community’s strong commitment to leisure. There is a satisfying sense that the analog ways of the 20th century continue to thrive here.
Almería, both as a city and a province, stands apart not only geographically but also in spirit, according to José Antonio González Perez from the local tourist office: “We are not like the rest of Andalucía. We have our own dialect, our own cuisine. But for a long time, we have been forgotten.”
This sense of independence is palpable in the pride displayed in Almería’s rich cultural heritage. The intriguing guitar museum highlights the craftsmanship of Antonio de Torres Jurado, regarded as the father of the modern guitar, who was born and died in Almería. The…
