Torrox Costa, the Faro and the strip either side

Torrox is two places under one Ayuntamiento, and the Costa is the one on the water. It runs as a strip along the old coast road either side of the lighthouse headland, with El Morche continuing west and the hillside rising behind. At the foot of the lighthouse lie the remains of a Roman settlement, thought to be Clavicum or Caviclum, with a villa, a necropolis, baths, garum vats and kilns — a reminder that this shoreline was worked long before it was developed. The inland pueblo, white and stepped, is a separate world a drive up the valley.

The stock is apartments, low to mid-rise, and mostly from the nineteen-seventies onwards. Blocks line the promenade and the streets immediately behind it, many with communal pools and gardens and a high proportion of small units. Coastal urbanisations such as El Morche and Laguna Beach fill out the strip either side. Villas exist on the slope behind the road, on terraced plots with a view over the roofs. There is very little that is architecturally Andalusian down here — for that you go up to the pueblo — and there is a great deal of renovation material.

The strip is where Spain's German-speaking Costa lives. Torrox hosts one of the largest German resident communities in the country, and it is legible in the shops, the notice boards and the clubs along the promenade. The municipality's own motto is that it has the best climate in Europe, which is a slogan rather than a measurement, but it does tell you what the town sells. In December the Fiesta de las Migas, declared of national tourist interest, fills the streets. In February the promenade is open and used.

The honest caveat is the road and the distance. This is the far east of the province: there is no Cercanías line beyond Málaga, so every airport run is a drive, and the strip itself is built along the old coast road rather than set back from it. The blocks are dense, the units often small, and the seventies stock carries its age. In exchange Torrox Costa sits at the accessible end of its own region, below Nerja and Frigiliana, which is what makes it a genuine entry point to this coast rather than a compromise on a better one.

The strip is a product of the nineteen-seventies onwards and reads that way. Low and mid-rise blocks line the promenade and the streets behind it, often with communal pools, gardens and a high proportion of one- and two-bedroom units built for holiday use rather than family living. El Morche and the coastal urbanisations either side repeat the pattern at a smaller scale. Villas sit on the slope behind the road, on terraced plots. Andalusian vernacular is almost absent down here and concentrated in the inland pueblo, and the renovation stock is plentiful: sound frames, dated interiors, deferred community works.

February on the promenade is busier than the calendar suggests, because a large share of the residents are here all year. Bakeries, bars and the German-language shops and clubs keep normal hours, and the beachfront cafés stay open. People eat along the paseo and drive up to the pueblo when they want a different evening. The school run leaves the strip. Traffic follows the old coast road, which is the strip's main street as well as its through route. In December the Fiesta de las Migas takes over the streets for a day.

It suits buyers whose first purchase on this coast has to be affordable and usable, who want a promenade, a manageable flat and neighbours who are here in winter. It suits anyone comfortable in a German-speaking community. It does not suit a buyer who needs a train, a short airport transfer or a low-density address with a plot — for those, the western coast around Fuengirola or Benalmádena answers better. Nor does it suit anyone wanting an Andalusian street scene: that is up in the pueblo, not down here.