The Mojacar Song
This poem (I believe it was sung to the tune of the Eton Boating Song) was written in the eighties by the much loved "Arthur", the local area's "corner shop grocer", who was frequently called upon to perform it, especially by his fellow cockneys in the "Los Amigos" bar. Ah! Those were the days!
Come to Sunny Mojacar
Where it hardly ever rains:
Out here we have plenty of water
That's a thing we can never explain.
So if you have plenty of money
And an inclination to spend,
We'll build you a dream on a rainbow,
With a pot of gold at the end.
If you're tired of life in the city,
And want life of simplicity,
If you can put up with the plumbing
And bleeding electricity;
The people here are so friendly,
But we must not tell you no lies,
The little mosquitos are bastards
And so are the bleeding flies.
When you go to do your shopping
It's just like committing a sin,
For they offer you Wristoff vodka
And bottles of Foking gin!
They have Virgins of Malaga,
Bonkas coffee, (and that's no pun)
D.Y.C. whisky, and Bols, and Lechera, I'm told,
And packets of crisps called Bum.
We have lots of lovely restaurants
And plenty of bars as well.
For a few hundred measly Pesetas
You can drink yourself right into hell.
We have thousands of choices of vinos
And lots of choices of beers,
Seņoritas galore and, to add to the score,
A liberal sprinkling of queers.