Carmen Hernández
7 min 
In Murcia, summer is not lived, it is survived. With temperatures that touch 40 degrees, streets that burn and tropical nights that make you doubt if you are in Europe or the Caribbean, learning to speak in summer Murcian is not only a matter of identity… it is a survival strategy!
Because here, heat is not only heat: it is torraera, embarrassment, sticky, hazy. And if you really want to enjoy the Murcian coast like one of them, you better get to know these beach beaches that are only understood by locals.
So if you are thinking of taking a tour of the Region this summer, take note. We present the essential beach-Murcian dictionary to survive gracefully, laugh with your grandparents and not look like a foreigner lost among flamenco floats and loin sandwiches with peppers.
Mar Menor or Mar Mayor? That is the question
In Murcia we don’t just ask “are you going to the beach?”; here we ask: “Mar Menor or Mar Mayor?”. And be careful, the answer can mark your summer personality.
Mar Menor
Everyone has heard of it: it is the largest salt lake in Europe, almost closed, with calm and warm water like a broth. It used to be famous for its biodiversity and therapeutic properties (the mud baths of Lo Pagán were the best). Today, it is also known for other less poetic elements: jellyfish, aguachirri and the atmosphere of families with blue fridge and XXL umbrella.
Of course, it is ideal for learning water sports such as windsurfing or sailing, especially if you are one of those who prefer sea without waves and with a bottom that covers after three days.
Mar Mayor
This is what we call, basically, what remains of the sea: the Mediterranean of a lifetime. Open beaches, real waves, beach bars with music, more breeze and… a little less screaming kids with water guns. If you want to experience the Murcian summer in a big way, the Mar Mayor awaits you with salt water, laughter, sandcastles and guaranteed tan.
Are you going to get a hood or just soak your feet?
A key word in the Murcian summer is to capuzarse. It is not the same to take a superficial bath – as grandmothers do, who get wet up to their knees and do not mess up a single gray hair – than to take a good capuzao, that is, to dive headfirst, dive, get wet all the way as God intends.
A typical conversation can be:— T’as capuzao or what?— Of course, if not, what am I going for?
Capuzarse is a declaration of intent. If you don’t get caught, it’s as if you haven’t been there. Period.
Galipote: the sticky enemy of summer
Stepping on a galipote on the beach is one of the great childhood traumas of Murcia. And it’s no joke. We are talking about tar or fuel residues that stick to the feet, the towel, the toys… and that there is no way to remove it either with tap water or with washing machine soap.
The solution of the Murcian grandmother? Cotton and a little olive oil. Hand of a saint. And while you’re at it, put oil on your elbows too, because in summer everything dries out.
Chapinas: the small treasures of the sea
Murcia’s beaches, especially those of the Mar Menor, are not large shell mines like other coasts, but they have their charm. Here what they are looking for are chapinas, which are small, thin shells, sometimes even with holes to make a necklace.
Rummaging through the sand to find chapinas is a beach tradition that is passed down from generation to generation. Some collect them by size, others by color, and the most creative turn them into DIY beach art.
Getting black: the unofficial goal of the summer
Forget the “Caribbean tan” or the “golden touch”. In Murcia, if you are not in black, you have not spent the summer well.
To wear black means to get very tanned, so much so that the whites of your teeth and your flip-flops look like reflectors. Some say that it is dangerous, but others see it as a medal of honor for the Murcian summer. The more I renegrio, the more experience in beaches and beach bars. Of course, sunscreen factor 50 and a hat, because if you overdo it… You can catch a sun-eye.
Catching a sun-eye: the classic rookie’s mistake
The expression “catching a sun-eyed” sounds tender, but it’s not. It’s the Murcian way of saying that you’ve sunstroked, that you’ve been hit by a jamacuco from the heat, come on.
The “eye of the sun” is that fatal moment when, after spending four hours in the sun without shade or water, you start to see blurry, you get dizzy and you have to lie down in the shade with an Aquarius and a fan. It happens to the brave who underestimate the power of the Murcian sun.
Enrobinao and oxidao: the price of living by the sea
If you’ve spent more than a week in a house on the beach, you’ve probably experienced it: the rusty frame of the bike, the scissors that no longer cut, the screws with brown stains and hair like a fluffy buffalo. Welcome to the effect of humidity and saltpeter.
Here we call everything that has suffered the wrath of the coast enrobinao or oxidao. Metal corrodes, locks creak, and your hair is left with volume, static electricity, and shapelessness. But hey, that’s also part of the charm. If you’re not a little rusty after the summer, you haven’t done something right.
Extra: other jewels of the Murcian beach player
While you’re learning, here are some extra expressions to complete your summer language survival kit:
- Pegajera: feeling of sweating all the time, as if you were wearing a layer of hot honey.
- Ventoleras: Unpredictable gusts of wind that appear just as you’re trying to put up your umbrella.
- Rebujico: crazy mix of things in a beach backpack: flip-flops, sandwiches, sunscreen, towel, book, glasses, float…
- Chamba: lucky. “What a job you have had finding parking in La Manga!”
Conclusion: the Murcian summer is spoken… and you live
In Murcia, summer is not just a season, it is a way of talking, feeling and laughing at the heat. It’s torraera and laughter, it’s a quick bath that ends up being a whole afternoon in the water, it’s sunscreen with the smell of coconut and galipote on the feet. It is chapinas, renegríos, umbrellas that fly and sunglasses that are cured with gazpacho.
So now you know: if you come to Murcia this summer, don’t forget your swimsuit, or your cap, or your pocket dictionary. You will need it. And if someone asks you “T’as capuzao or what?”, you know what to answer: — And so much, I’ve stuck a cap that I’ve even found a star-shaped chapina!
