Last visit: May 2022
My rating: 9/10
Suspended between sky and salt, La Pelosa doesn’t feel like land, but rather the ancestral memory of a place the soul has already dreamed. Its waters are so clear they seem like liquid air, caressing a sand that isn’t sand, but angel’s powder. The wind carries the endless song of gulls and the blue silence of ancient days. Here, time frays like dry seaweed on the rocks, and every gaze becomes a silent prayer to the divine hidden within the sea. Had García Lorca come here, he would have wept like a child seeing his mother again after a hundred years in exile.
Would you like it? Too good to be true.
Then you open your eyes and realize you’re not alone. Around you, a noisy and unkempt humanity: an epidemic of bare armpits, plastic shovels and inflatable donuts, drones buzzing like horseflies, and trap music blaring from portable speakers. Selfie sticks bloom like sunflowers, and the queues for a single square meter of sand recall the good old supermarket lines on Christmas Eve. Yes, La Pelosa is stunning — but the whole world knows it, and the world, as we know, is neither graceful nor discreet.
Practical tips: Access to the beach is limited during the summer and requires online booking (with a paid ticket). Bring a beach mat, as towels cannot be placed directly on the sand for environmental conservation reasons. Parking is paid and often full: arrive early, or brace yourself for a long walk with a view of a desecrated paradise.
