The sole mitigating factor is my lust for travel. I´m in Spain´s biggest little city of Málaga, soaking up the last embers of sunshine that soaked up the river prior to my arrival.

Drier than a towel in a furnace, this metropolis is fascinatingly distracted from modern life by traditional Hispanic ways.

Liberated from the shackles of Western European conformity, Spain and its southern poster child have reinvigorated my fascination with anthropology. Which explains why the spread trading has temporarily assumed back seat status.

I´ll explain why I´m spellbound by the Spanish race.

In the UK a little while ago, there was an administrative uprising against the ´curse´, as the politicos would have it, of cheap booze in supermarkets. It was destroying the hopes and dreams of the young and sending the moderately older into a spiral of decay and susceptibility to cirrhosis.

I´m in Spain where I can – quite legally, and without the frowns of my elders or faceless bureaucrats – buy a can of Special Brew (called something altogether different but I know a strong, crap lager when I see one) for 34 cents. In a brightly lit supermarket, not a den of iniquity or speakeasy!

But here we don´t have the problems of yobs coursing through the streets like bulls in Pamplona. We have three harmless weapons:

• Community
• Family support
• Moderation

Collectively they make Spain one of the most caring, responsible and respectable assembly of people in the world. A lot of this civility has to do with love, religion (so unusual these days to praise religion for affecting benevolently the human race) and common sense.

Families dan un paseo every week; they stride out in their millions, discussing the events of the day at a microscopic level. It´s a charming spectacle, the equivalent quality time to the now-mythical Sunday roast where Brits would gather round a table to – shriek – talk and listen.

Maybe I disseminated in the wrong direction. Maybe this Hispanic sense of community is down to a good old lie-in. At 8am this morning the streets were swept clean of Halloween´s nocturnal excesses and, largely, the people inhabiting this sweet conurbation.

Which makes this whole idea of mañana seem a little far-fetched. A mañana to many is as fictional as a sit-down family meal in England…

Incidentally, if you´re interested in the fortunes of this Spanish city, take a look at my other never-ending electronic script, Word And Mouth, for a glimpse into the success story of Kay Farrell, owner of Malaga Bike Tours.

More stock trading elementaries soon!

Exacto.

Kay Farrell, owner of Malaga Bike Tours, isn´t merely curating a dream. In 18 short months her company and ethic has inspired dozens of people to scribe frantically and euphorically about two-wheeled tour of the city.

And the result? Team Kay (consisting of she, Ingrid, Anastasia and Bill) is riding high as Tripadvisor´s number 1 attraction in all of Malaga.

Such effusive word of mouth referrals are magic bullets for companies like Kay´s. The emerging stars, the niche and boutique that epitomise everything that´s good and true about the Long Tail.

The Alcazaba, a majestic Roman theatre standing sentinel over the city, has taken 1,000 years to win silver on the influential travel site. Malaga Bike Tours has made gold in less than 2.

It´s down to two magical ingredients. Focus on the customer and passion for the product. The genius of Malaga Bike Tours is in melding the constituent components, jaw-dropping edifices like the mentioned Moorish castle and glorious Malagueta beach, together to bring guests together on a meandering and masterful four-hour stop (emphasis on this) and start tour of the metropolis.

Customer focus, and passion for the product. Sound familiar? Kay´s unreservedly unrestrained in her devotion to the Spanish city and talks of her Hispanic ´mother´ with unmitigating joy her eyes. Yet Kay is from Widnes, and mama is her first landlady in Malaga.

So Kay is southern European in everything but birth. The history degree tells me enough to know that her system of slavish research for the tours runs in the blood, rather than a forced effort.

Product knowledge, then, is boundless. And as the bikers ride with her, and Bill, and Ingrid (Anastasia is champion of the bike store and a damn fine artist to boot, having mapped the route for marketing collateral), they all contribute to the living feast that is the tour.

Because of this, no itinerary is ever exactly the same. And guests get an ever-more impressive experience. Feedback begets action begets refinement of the product. Begets client contentment.

Let´s consider afresh that focus on the customer. In Barcelona, bike tours cater for groups up to 20. In Malaga, it´s a maximum of 10. Any more and there are two guides to cater to individual questions, to provide that extra level of attention.

Tours here are in English, Spanish, German, and a remarkable fusion of dialect that is borne from Kay´s penchant for travel resulting in her Merseyside drawl being usurped by Canadian, Scottish and a tinkle of Basque. Come one, come all.

Marketing is next on the hit list. The Costa, home of the urban sprawl and a splash of decadence courtesy of Puerto Banus and its floaters, is missing an alternative diversion in these days of experiential lust. As Malaga contends to be European City of Culture 2016, Kay´s bike tours should certainly be one of the city´s conduits for global attention.

Malaga Bike Tours