Motril

Perched precariously against the sheer cliffs of Andalusia's Ardales, the Caminito del Rey was once charmingly dubbed "the most dangerous walkway in the world." Don't panic-since its recent facelift, your odds of survival are now considerably higher. Originally built in the early 20th century for brave hydroelectric workers (probably fueled by either desperation or a strong aguardiente), this vertiginous path teeters dramatically above the turquoise waters of the Guadalhorce gorge. Set out early-aiming for a cooler morning start-to avoid both searing Spanish heat and selfie-stick wielding crowds; planning your trip at least a month ahead is wise, since access is controlled. Expect to budget around 15 euros per ticket and bring sunscreen, sturdy shoes, nerves of steel, and snacks to reward yourself for not plummeting into oblivion. Sure, dangling precariously above a dizzyingly deep gorge might sound absurdly terrifying, but trust me: it's worth it. At the very least, you'll have a stellar story guaranteed to captivate (or horrify) your friends around the dinner table for years to come.

Deep beneath Nerja's postcard-perfect beaches lies another world altogether-darker, cooler, and just spooky enough to toy deliciously with your imagination. Forget the sunbaked sangria tourists; here, you'll be dodging stalactites sharper than Spanish sarcasm, navigating cathedral-sized chambers once inhabited by prehistoric cave-dwellers who left their mark around 40,000 years ago. Let your inner Indiana Jones out to play, ideally early in the morning before the selfie-stick hordes stumble in, and definitely book online a couple days ahead (because spontaneity is overrated when bats and limestone labyrinths are involved). Expect to fork out about €15, a small price to pay to feel tiny beneath dripping prehistoric monuments; wear sturdy shoes, bring a light jacket (you'll thank me), and maybe pack a flashlight-the better to illuminate eerie wall paintings or scare the pants off an unsuspecting friend. Even if caves usually rank low on your vacation wishlist, Nerja's subterranean wonderland is worth it for the sheer bragging rights: after all, how many opportunities do you get to casually mention you've hung out in the same spot as Neanderthals-and survived?

Sleeping next door to Granada's Alhambra might sound like a pretentious Instagram flex, but trust me, it's worth every curious glance from your more budget-conscious friends. The Alhambra Palace Hotel has hosted everyone from kings to poets, and if it's good enough for royalty and romantics, it'll certainly suffice for your cynical heart. Check in early enough-ideally mid-afternoon-to savor a leisurely sunset, when the honey-colored walls of the Moorish marvel next door glow gold and orange like history's most extravagant scoop of sorbet. Book a good two months in advance (because luxury with proximity to UNESCO-approved genius doesn't come at the last minute), budget generously (think €200-€400 nightly, because elegance rarely goes on sale), and pack something smarter than your travel-wrinkled cargos if you're planning cocktails on the terrace. Sure, you can sleep cheaper elsewhere, but can you sip cava while gazing at an icon of Moorish artistry, layers of history illuminated by moonlight, serenaded by the distant pulse of Granada's evening flamenco? Probably not. Do it, if only so you can forever drop casually into conversation: "Oh, the Alhambra? Lovely spot-I stayed next door once."

Chartering a yacht for a day's cruise along the Costa Tropical from Motril is your passport to feeling smugly decadent while bobbing atop an expanse of blue so brilliant it makes ordinary seas look apologetic. Picture yourself reclining on deck, sipping cold cava in sunglasses that scream aristocratic indifference, drifting along a coastline that's seen Phoenician traders, Moorish pirates, and enough intrigue to inspire several mediocre Netflix series. Plan your maritime escapade for the morning hours-your Instagram feed (and your rumbling stomach) will thank you when you're anchored by lunchtime, diving into tapas right off the stern, the afternoon sun intensifying your faux-sailor glow. Reserve at least two weeks ahead, because everyone dreams of playing Mediterranean playboy now and then, and budget generously-around 800 euros and up-if you prefer the crew's smiles to remain genuine. Bring sunscreen (trust me, lobster-red is charming on crustaceans, not on you), sunglasses, and a mildly judgmental novel to occasionally peek over as you assess passing yachts' inferior style choices. Even if you return to dry land poorer and slightly sunburnt, the bragging rights of casually mentioning your yacht charter off the coast of Motril-the very waters once frequented by swashbucklers and smugglers-are enough to secure your seat at the dinner-party elite for at least the next season.