By the late 1970s Spain had become the most popular foreign destination for UK holidaymakers and, increasingly, the residency of choice for expatriates looking to tan their bodies and knock back cheap booze. Discount flights, guaranteed sun and locals with a warm welcome (and a willingness to speak English) combined with an increasing UK subculture of traditional pubs, Sunday roast dinner, fish and chips and warm ale made Spain a magnet for Brits—and especially the Costa del Sol. The region became to many in the UK what the Caribbean became to some in the US—a bolthole that was close enough to endure the flight but far enough away to add that exotic magic fairy dust to a break.
But with that boom came a less welcome element.
In 1978, a century-old extradition treaty between the UK and Spain expired, and there was suddenly little or no chance of fleeing British criminals being sent home to face trial. The Spanish coast was seen as a safe haven, so the crooks took to the sky and then to the sun. British gangsters, stick-up artists, grifters, hitmen, thieves and pimps increasingly saw the Costa del Sol in the southeast of Spain as a means of escaping the grey skies of Britain—and more importantly, the grey walls of the prison yard.
The Costa del Crime was born.