I was born in a city with many beaches. Then I moved to a big city with no coastline at all. And later, at the age of 30, I moved to Cancún, Mexico, where beaches became part of my everyday life and, very quickly, part of my work as well.

In Cancún, I spent years doing beach photoshoots, everything from flying dress photoshoots to family portraits, marriage proposals, and fashion photoshoots. That’s when my way of seeing beaches really changed. They were no longer just places to relax (at least for me). They became creative spaces, backgrounds, light conditions, textures, and moods. In short, part of the artistic process.

Now, living in Marbella, I notice I approach the coastline in the same way. While exploring the beaches here for this list of best beaches in Marbella, I kept coming back to one simple question: Which beaches feel the most visually beautiful and creatively inspiring?

This guide shares the best beaches in Marbella, Spain from a photographer’s perspective, focusing on beauty, accessibility, and natural scenery for photography, travel, and slow beach walks.

Most Marbella beaches are conveniently located within or close to the city, which makes them very easy to access. That matters more than it might seem. If you are visiting and don’t want to rent a car, accessibility becomes just as important as beauty when choosing the best beaches in Marbella without a car.

I was pointing my camera with a telephoto lens toward the Arenal Volcano Costa Rica, an active volcano visible far away on the horizon. As I searched for a better angle, I slightly shifted the lens and suddenly noticed the cutest little sloth hanging lazily from a tree. My reaction, filled with excitement, was: “OMG look over there! He’s there!” This immediately caught my husband’s attention.

For the next twenty minutes, I photographed that lovely sloth slowly moving from one tree to another while my husband patiently waited, enjoying an engaging conversation with a staff member at the hotel where we stayed, Nayara Gardens.

Sloths are truly Costa Rica’s treasure, strictly protected, and among the most iconic symbols of the country. That sloth was the only one we saw moving during our whole stay, which, as we later realized, is quite lucky. Most of the time, they are just sleeping or slowly munching on cecropia leaves or other foliage. Whenever we walked around the hotel, I kept an eye out for them and yes, most were sleeping or chilling in their trees. So, be prepared to practice patience if you want to see them in slow-motion action. And believe me, the wait is worth it, they are irresistibly cute.

When I first saw the Rock of Gibraltar, it was the afternoon of our very first day in Spain, and that moment, although quiet and almost accidental, stayed with me much longer than I expected.

The apartment we had rented for a week was meant to be a temporary landing place, a peaceful pause after an intense year of planning, followed by several especially demanding weeks of packing and moving overseas from the United States to Spain. It was the kind of space where you finally allow yourself to exhale, to sit with the reality of what just happened, and to slowly begin absorbing a completely new environment.

What neither of us expected was the view.

From the terrace, almost unexpectedly and without any prior mention in the listing, the Rock of Gibraltar appeared in the distance, as if it had always been there waiting, quietly included but never announced. I was immediately mesmerized. There was something about its shape: rising, defined, almost sculptural that drew my attention in a way that felt both instinctive and impossible to ignore. It simply held my attention for a moment where I felt almost indifferent to everything else around me, as if the usual flow of thoughts had briefly stepped aside.

I first visited Miami in 2023 during our Thanksgiving vacation. We drove all the way from Atlanta, where we were living at the time. The journey, which we had estimated at seven hours, took fourteen hours, thanks to holiday traffic. By the time we arrived at our Airbnb apartment, we barely had enough energy for dinner before collapsing into bed.

The next morning, after a relaxed breakfast at the hotel-like area of the apartment building, we rushed out to explore the city. My husband had been to Miami multiple times for business, but for me, it was entirely new. And I loved it.

For a photographer like me, who likes to explore, Miami architecture is a visual feast. From the very first steps on the streets, the city’s light, colors, and corners pull you in. Its architecture is distinct, modern, and even somewhat futuristic. Each neighborhood tells a different story: the pastel Art Deco in South Beach, Streamline Modern and high-rise Modernist towers downtown, and mid-century gems hidden in residential areas.

Miami is a city of contrasts, modern yet historical, posh yet playful. Its architecture can mesmerize or repel, depending on what you love. Traveling helps you discover your personal preferences, and for me, walking these streets, craning my neck to the tops of enormous skyscrapers, was a creative and inspiring experience.

“How do you eat this? What is this product? Is it good?”

These are the types of questions I find myself asking, sometimes out loud, sometimes through Google, every time I go grocery shopping in Spain. And while it may seem like a small, almost trivial detail, it actually represents something much bigger: the everyday reality of relocation and the process of learning how to settle in abroad.

Thanks to technology, overcoming culture shock, at least when it comes to understanding food and daily essentials, has become easier. But even with all the tools available, the experience itself still requires time, patience, and a willingness to feel unfamiliar.

During the first several months after starting over in a new country, there were moments when I would stand in the middle of the aisle in the grocery stores just a little longer than usual, holding a product in my hands, trying to understand what it was and would it feel familiar, or would become part of my routine.

Trial and error becomes part of the process.

Choosing what will become your favorite food, what fits your routine, what feels comforting, it all takes longer than you expect, and that’s part of adapting to expat life.

It was my first morning in Barcelona, and I left the hostel early, stepping into the streets to begin exploring this modern, enigmatic city on my own, not fully knowing yet what the day would bring, but already feeling a quiet sense of anticipation that comes with solo travel.

I was staying in the downtown area, walking distance from La Rambla, and the noise of the street immediately washed over me: the sounds of cars, scooters, motorcycles moving in constant rhythm, conversations in Spanish and Catalan blending into the background, and bakeries already open, serving those who needed their morning coffee and something soft and warm to begin the day. And instead of feeling irritated, as I would have been in a city I lived before, I felt unexpectedly energized by it.

The warm Spanish sun played with the streets in a way that felt very intentional, shifting through the leaves of the trees and casting moving patterns of light and shadow, creating a sense of liveliness. And in that moment, I realized something very clearly.

I wasn’t alone.

Even though this was, in every practical sense, a solo travel experience, I did not feel alone, because in a city that is alive from early morning to late at night, solitude takes on a completely different meaning, one that feels full rather than empty.

In 2013 when I first told my parents that I was planning to travel solo in Mexico, they were in mild shock.

At that point in my life I had already been living independently for over ten years far away from home. I was not a reckless teenager chasing adventure without thinking, I was a grown woman with experience, responsibility, and common sense. And yet, parents are always parents. Their first reaction was worry.

“OMG… but it’s dangerous.” – they said.

And I understood exactly where that reaction came from. News headlines. Dramatic films. Stories that highlight the extremes but rarely show everyday life.

Mexico, in international media, is often portrayed in black and white, either luxury resorts or crime statistics. Very little in between.

But life is always in between.

What started as a solo trip for me turned into nine years of living in Mexico. I built my photography business there. I created a life there. I traveled through different regions, sometimes alone, sometimes with my ex husband, and I learned what it really means to travel solo in Mexico as a woman.

This article is not based on a one-week vacation experience. It is based on nearly a decade of living, observing, adjusting, learning, and yes sometimes making mistakes.

Living in different cultures is always filled with “ooops” and “wow” moments. One of those “ooops” moments happened when I lived in Mexico, and that moment was all about superstitions. If you grew up in a Slavic culture like I did, you know superstitions are a big deal. They’re ingrained in everyday life, you don’t even question them. One I grew up with was this:

If you leave your home, but then realize you forgot something and have to go back inside, you must look in the mirror and say “Hello” three times before leaving again. If you don’t? Bad luck for the day. No exceptions.

Fast forward to my time in Cancun, Mexico. One day, a friend and I were heading out when she suddenly remembered she forgot her sunglasses. As she turned back, I casually mentioned the superstition:

“Oh, you know, there’s this thing where you should look in the mirror and say ‘Hello’ three times before leaving again, otherwise, no luck for you today.”

She looked at me and burst out laughing, telling me there was nothing like that in Mexico. Later that afternoon, we ended up having a long conversation about how different cultures hold onto completely different beliefs, some serious, some ridiculous. That moment stuck with me and made me ask myself:

Wait… do superstitions only work in specific parts of the world? And if that’s the case, are they even real?

What’s considered completely normal in one place might be unfamiliar or even strange in another. Living in different cultures teaches you that there’s no single “right” way to do things, just different ways.

It was a late December evening during our third week after moving to Spain when my husband and I were discussing places we needed to visit soon. Considering our current home is in Marbella, a trip to Málaga was an almost obvious choice.

So I started researching how to get there from Marbella and what to see. Since it was winter and a cloudy day, visiting a museum seemed like the perfect plan, warm, cozy, and a delightful way to spend a few hours indoors. Our first stop was the Picasso Museum, which I shared impressions and photos of in a previous article “What They Don’t Tell You About the Pablo Picasso Museum in Malaga”

During my brief research that evening, I stumbled upon a surprising fact that made me say, “Wow, how did I miss this?” Málaga’s history spans around 2,800 years, making it one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in Europe and the world.

This realization made me reflect: What would it feel like living just an hour away from one of the world’s oldest cities? I didn’t know, but a quiet sense of admiration and curiosity washed over me. Imagine the stories, artifacts, and historical treasures scattered across the city, some on display, some still waiting to be discovered.

With so much history, it’s impossible to cover everything in a single blog post. However, here are some fascinating historical facts about Málaga that I found worth sharing.

I first traveled solo in Spain in 2013, starting with Madrid, and then several month later did a second solo trip through the country that took me from Barcelona to Valencia, Seville, and back to Madrid. From there, I flew to Cancún, Mexico, where I lived for nine years working as a photographer. (Take a look at my Cancun website). Since 2025, my husband and I have been living in Spain (currently in Marbella, though we’re always dreaming about our next Spanish home!).

Spain is a beautiful country and a must-visit destination for solo female travelers. And no, that’s not just hype. With its stunning architecture, rich history, vibrant culture, and delicious food, Spain offers unforgettable experiences for anyone willing to explore it.

In this article, you’ll find my guide to the top solo travel destinations in Spain for women, along with tips on where to stay, why hostels can be fun, and practical advice to make your solo adventures safe and enjoyable.

Long before it became known as the Garden of the Costa del Sol, Estepona carried another name — Astabbuna, shaped during Moorish times. The town has always been a place of passage, layered with histories that settled rather than disappeared. Walking its streets today, that history is felt softly, through texture, light, and walls decorated by flowers. 

It was December when I first walked into Estepona’s old town, during that soft season when places seem to exhale. The streets were calm, the light gentle, and the air carried the scent of flowers even in winter. I remember thinking how unusual it felt, a town so alive with color, yet so peaceful. 

The soft scent of lantana, paperflower, florist kalanchoe, Chinese hibiscus, and countless other flowers follows you through the streets. It floats in the air, quietly accompanying each step. Estepona proudly carries the title “Jardín de la Costa del Sol” and it earns that name effortlessly.