Extract from Daily Mail Article about Torremolinos

....Soon it had become Europe's top package resort (even finding itself parodied in a famous Monty Python sketch, about Watney's Red Barrel).But today, as nearby Marbella and Puerto Banus continue to be ruined by the tacky gold-tap-and-Gucci brigade, this historic Costa del Sol town is beginning to enjoy a renaissance.Spending large amounts of money restructuring the resort, and attempting to encourage a younger and wealthier clientele, the local council is starting to see some results.New restaurants, delis and designer clothes boutiques are springing up, and more discerning visitors are much in evidence - .And, would you believe, this all harks back to a long-forgotten glory age for the town.
Because once, Torremolinos was the party town of choice for Sinatra - and actually something of a find.Once 'Molinos de la Torre' (or Mills of the Tower), it first appeared in guidebooks in the mid-19th century when one Spanish commentator wrote that it was a place with 'a healthy climate and only seasonal common illnesses due to its location at the foothills of the Mijas mountains and at a rifle shot distance from the sea'.It was that distinctly clement weather - there are more than 300 days of sun a year on the Costa del Sol - that would begin to draw wealthy Europeans from the late 19th century, and by the 1920s Torrie had started to become something of a haunt for intellectuals, writers and artists.The English connection has always been a strong and, perhaps surprisingly, positive one, particularly since ex-patriate Sir George Langworthy turned his beautiful home, el Castillo de Santa Clara , into a shelter for the needy.His charity would unwittingly lead to the opening of the first hotel in Torrie, when, after his entire fortune had run out in 1918, he was forced to open his house to paying guests.
The expansion of hotels continued apace and by the early 1960s Torrie had reached its heyday. It was known as T-town and it was the hip, must-visit place for young Britons, who would lounge at the delightfully named Fat Black Pussy Cat Bar and later dance to the latest limbo bands from Jamaica at the Blue Note.
The international A-list including Frank Sinatra, Orson Welles and Sophia Loren once walked along the polished white-on-black puddle marble floor of the still-chic Pez Espada (Swordfish) Hotel.
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