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About Palma

She’s no angel, sure—hustlin’s messy, mistakes galore. But ain’t that life? “No harm, no foul,” Doc’d shrug. I’d paint her with purples, reds—wild energy, ya dig? Maybe exaggerate her swagger—six-foot tall in my mind, stompin’ like she owns the joint. Cracks me up thinkin’ she’d sass a cop and skate free.

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Thru winding, narrow lanes (so many, many lanes!) behold the secret café, "Casa del Alma", tucked near the shadow of the old fortress wall near Piti Ravine—nah, don't quote me if I exaggerate too much, but it's pure gold. I swear, I nearly danced with the fey! And oh, the river, or what some might call an ancient arroyo —it trickles past unnoticed, like dreams fading at dawn, yet strong enough to carve its own legend into our land.

First part of ancient Phoenician shipwreck is brought to the surface in Mazarron bay