1 day ago
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A bell rings for half past happy hour on Cheltenham festival eve in a city that has discarded time.
Not entirely, of course. Conventional clocks are required to determine the midday cut off between a cheap full English breakfast – available in a range of sizes, from large through to extra, extra large – and an ever so slightly pricier one. So, too, to distinguish between upcoming performances from Michael Jackson, Ed Sheeran, Coldplay and Queen, who, extraordinarily, have descended on the same Spanish bar, on the same night. Just as they will again tomorrow; at least, tribute acts of varying quality.
But the abundance of British tourists who seek escape from the mundanities of home in Benidorm are not beholden to the usual restrictions of time. The many dozen bars along the gaudy, neon strip of Calle Gerona are as boisterously full on a Monday lunchtime as the early hours of a Friday morning, patrons habitually walloping punching machines and murdering Amy Winehouse songs from one dawn to the next at karaoke joints that proudly proclaim themselves open all day, every day.
A poster on a roadside wall advertises the Sticky Vicky “sexy magic show”, in honour of the late Benidorm performer Victoria Gadea, who was known for bewildering decades of audiences by producing an alarming array of items from an unusual orifice. “The legacy continues”, promises the poster, alongside a picture of her daughter Maria, who now performs the same infamous act that earned her mother’s name. Or, she did. Word is that Maria has departed Costa Blanca in recent months, prompting punters to head instead to one of a number of imitator “sticky” shows strewn along the strip.
A greying man, visibly worse for wear, stumbles past the outdated poster and is helped by a friend to navigate around the ubiquitous Benidorm hazard of a discarded mobility scooter. He succumbs a few steps on, crashing into a stationary rubbish bin and sending his “Cheltenham 2025” cap to the floor.
Benidorm’s British tourism boom – specifically to its New Town – dates back to the mass growth of high-rise buildings some half a century ago that gave the city its specious “New York of the Mediterranean” nickname. These days, close to a million Britons are estimated to visit annually, with four days in early March taking on ever greater importance. Barely a decade ago, Cheltenham festival week passed by largely unnoticed until a groundswell movement began; at first, imperceptibly, and in recent years with growing heft.
While Cheltenham’s new chief executive, Guy Lavender, grapples with falling attendances – in the build up to jump racing’s showpiece event he confirmed “we are expecting fewer racegoers to be joining us in person this week” – those in charge of the multitude of Benidorm’s bars, pubs and hotels revel in what has become, for many, the most lucrative date on the calendar.
At 9.30am on a hazy Tuesday morning, the Winning Post bar is already full to capacity, waitresses rushing around with fried breakfasts and pints; a cornucopia of beer. On one table, a group of over-lubricated men attempt to compensate for last night’s absent slumber by downing shots and promptly indulging in the not-so-friendly fire of brutally delivered head punches as their prolonged revelry briefly turns sour. Elsewhere, customers taking the more gentle approach to relieving their sobriety study day one’s Cheltenham cards in newspapers before heading to the corner of the room for a bet.
The Winning Post is the only bar in town that runs its own cash book every day of the year, screening all available horse races and taking the starting prices from its dozen televisions. Less than an hour after opening its doors for the day, the stacks of betting slips have already run dry and are in need of replenishment. Later, as the horses make their way to post for each race, a queue snakes down the pavement full of punters desperate to part with their cash.
“My dad started this business 35 years ago,” explains the bar’s owner Colleen Holm. “He worked in different bars out here as a bookie for 10 years and then set this place up. I used to work in Ladbrokes and have been here 18 years now. Cheltenham’s always been big for us, but it’s probably over the last six or eight years that it’s really taken off around Benidorm.”
A stone’s throw over the road, the Marina Resort draws the biggest crowds. On any given festival day, a herd of more than 500 will succumb to sunburn in homage to its unrivalled combination of huge poolside screen and tangible collective aura that produces mass gasps when Constitution Hill and then State Man take tumbles in a dramatic Champion Hurdle, dashing the majority of wagers in the process.
It was standing room only long before the action began. Having diligently conducted a preliminary investigation the previous day, Timothy King and his group of old work colleagues determined that 8.30am – almost six hours before the customary cheer that greets the start of the Supreme Novices’ Hurdle – was the optimum time to secure the Marina Resort’s best table: perpendicular to the centre of the screen, slightly elevated, neither too close, nor too far.
“Going to the festival is just too expensive now and too busy,” King explains as to why he has travelled 850 miles from his Cotswolds home, which neighbours Cheltenham. “It’s very exciting there, but you can barely see a horse in person any more and certainly can’t see the finish. This is our first time in Benidorm and I’d recommend it to anyone. It’s beautiful, friendly and clean. It doesn’t matter what age you are, this is the place to be. There’s everything you could want.”
It is a familiar refrain repeated all along the strip’s packed bars, from Funky Flamingo to Jumping Jacks, and Yorkshire Pride to the Rovers Return. For one week only, every television in this British enclave is devoted to the finest thoroughbreds.
“There’s sunshine, nice weather and cheap beer – what more could you want?” asks seasoned Benidorm veteran David Lormor. “We’ve been coming here for about 10 years now. Once upon a time you could go into a pub 40 minutes before the start of the first race and get a seat no problem. Now, hours before it all starts you are struggling to find a table.”
Amid Lavender’s recent warning of falling festival attendances was a vow to provide “better value for customers”, who currently face exorbitant travel, accommodation and ticket costs, before shelling out £7.80 for a pint of Guinness once inside the Gloucestershire track. Across a range of Benidorm bars, pints are on offer for as little as €2 and five-bottle beer buckets for €6.50. It is, argue those who have created a new Costa del Cheltenham, night and day.
“We all live by Musselburgh so we are horse racing people,” says Stephen Peters, who has travelled to Spain with a party of seven. “But most of the tracks you go to now, you watch the action on a big screen anyway. Gone are the days of going with the binoculars and watching the horses go round. So this is pretty much like being at the racetrack. We’d gamble on anything and you can still do that here – if we saw a couple of cockroaches on the floor we’d probably have a bet on it.”
Like so many others, they barely move all day beyond trips to pick up fresh beer buckets. But, when the racing concludes in the setting sun, the night remains young. “We have a rule that you cannot go to bed on the same day you got up,” says Peters. “We’ve won absolutely nothing today, but we’ll give it another go tomorrow at a different venue. Maybe our luck will change somewhere else. It cannae get much worse.”
The group departs past knick-knack shops selling crude T-shirts and lewd lollies, smiling as they stagger their way to their next destination. That cheap beer isn’t going to drink itself. Anyone for a “sticky” show?
