When Beach Bars Were Beach Bars

Years ago, before industrial quantities of tourists were being flown in so that they could imbibe industrial quantities of industrially adulterated alcohol, Laganas beach on the island of Zante was decidedly pleasant. The beach probably still is, but it now attracts an altogether different reputation and different profile.

But back in the day, there was a line of around half-a-dozen bars (or tavernas, as one would call them as they were Greek) which backed onto the beach. The favoured one was the last one. Run by a couple of mad hippy sorts who had either escaped from The Allman Brothers Band or were Demis Roussos, or both, the bar was about everything you might hope for in a beachside hostelry. It was not exactly efficient, but it played great music - all day - and did an excellent line in salads that tended to differ from what was itemised on the menu, partly, one suspected, because they were put together from behind a plume of marijuana smoke.

Laidback. This was how establishments such as beach bars were meant to be. Are they any longer? Some may be, but many are not, while many more have assumed the contemporary equivalent of laidback, namely "chill". I am disinclined to blame Ibiza's Café del Mar for anything, but if I have to, it was the promotion of chill that nowadays, in a musical style, has assumed the status of muzak. And ubiquitous muzak at that.

This chill omnipotence should not be confused with traditional laidback. The former functions under a contemporary rulebook of design tyranny, at its worst when white fake-leather upholstery is given an airing and a blanketing of sand. Moreover, the "new" beach bar has conformed to a requirement no one originally demanded but now appears to expect, that of efficiency. And it has done so simultaneously with beaches themselves having become both efficient and productive. It is beach life for the unadventurous and hyper-critical consumer-tourist, a McDonalds-isation of standard practice.

Beaches and beach bars once enjoyed a certain spiritual relationship. Nature met un-nature, in the form of the beach bar, but it was un-nature of a natural and unsophisticated style that formed an extension of something that was simply there to be enjoyed. The efficiency of beaches is such that today it goes beyond mere provision by local authorities or commercial operators. The beach is a repository for the contents of Toys 'R' Us, Dixons and Halfords, with rows of delighted occupants of mini-deckchairettes posing for a Kindle advert and those engaged in beach DIY, constructing the most ludicrous object known to man, the beach tent.

The beach bar has been caught up in a po-faced consumerism that requires of beaches that they are organised. Why is there such concern for all the provision? Personally, I can think of only once ever having availed myself of a beach sunbed, and that was on Maspalomas beach in Gran Canaria. When someone turned up and demanded money, a decision was taken to abandon the sunbeds.

The naturalness of beaches and therefore beach bars has been lost in the scramble to make both productive. And beach bars can be good earners, especially for town halls. Best beach destination in Spain, Alcúdia is anticipating increased returns from its beach concessions which include a row of balnearios plonked on the sand, uniformly characterless, as is the case with most beach bars, but was not the case with a non-town hall bar that was deemed illegal and so ended up on the receiving end of a bulldozer.

Given all this, what constitutes a good beach bar? I ask the question because "The Guardian" wants to know. And it is willing to hand over a camera for someone who can come up with the best tips for the best beach bars in Spain. There is something ominous about the blurb that goes with this competition. It says: "Sipping a cocktail or glass of robust red close to the Med - now that's a holiday". Well yes, having a drink at a beach bar is not exactly unusual, but it misses the point, which is - are there any beach bars left which can claim to possess the sort of qualities they once did? Even more ominous is when the paper goes on to use the c-word, "chicest", for which read chill with white fake-leather upholstery.

Maybe there are such bars and maybe there are some in Mallorca. But if so, where are they? If you know of any, do let me know. And if they're run by a couple of mad hippies, even better.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.