I’d squeezed through the crowds in the tiled bar, secured a corner table and ordered a glass of herby, chilled vermú, that beloved midday Spanish aperitif. Yet the waitress was still standing there expectantly. It was only when she nodded towards the menu, I realised I could accompany my drink with a dish on the house – some local black pudding and tomato preserve perhaps, or baked goat’s cheese with honey reduction.

In the seaside Andalusian city of Almeria, you get a free tapa with every drink, the bars are always abuzz, and you’re unlikely to hear another English voice. It may not match the majesty of Seville or the Arabic grandeur of Granada’s Alhambra, but if you want to slot effortlessly into Andalusian life, there’s no better place.

The little-changed way of life here has much to do with Almeria’s isolation. Perched in Spain’s south-east corner, it is backed by the terracotta hills of Europe’s only desert, the Tabernas, and looks across the navy blue of the Mediterranean towards Algeria.

There is an airport, but it’s mainly used by those making the dash up to the wild beaches of Cabo de Gata-Nijar Natural Park, rather than city  breakers.

That’s likely to change next year, however, when Almeria locks into Spain’s high-speed train network with a direct connection to Madrid, reducing the train journey from almost seven hours to just over three. All at once, it will become a viable weekend break from the capital and an accessible gateway to those miles of protected beaches.

For now, though, I found myself among mostly locals in a city that felt more like a village. In the smart, covered Central Market, you can pick out fresh seafood downstairs and pay a few euros to have it grilled on the spot at A Ka La Inma.

At the market’s Restaurante Ibéricos Ortuño – run by world-champion ham carver Antonio Ortuño – the €5 (£4) breakfast is toast slathered in tomato, doused in extra virgin olive oil, and topped with wafer-thin slices of acorn-fed jamón ibérico.

The tangled lanes in the pedestrianised city centre have avoided a souvenir shop takeover, too. Instead, they support artisans and independent stores. I loved Mona Moon for Almeria-crafted leather bags that have been featured in glossy Spanish magazines, and, just opposite, Co Shopping, which brings together independent jewellery and fashion designers.

In the late afternoon, I headed to the leafy, pedestrianised Paseo de Almeria, pulling up a chair at one of the terrace cafes to join in the Spanish tradition of merienda – where a coffee and sweet snack are enjoyed over lively conversation.

By nighttime, the crowds have migrated to Calle Jovellanos, which is lined with tapas bars. Some, like Casa Puga, have been going for 150 years, jamon legs hanging from the ceiling and walls covered with sepia photos, while others like Bar El Quincho offer a modern take on traditional tapas, like curried chicken or chargrilled vegetables.

Almerienses, as the locals are called, take great pride in their food traditions. With each drink, you can choose from a daily menu of free tapas, often scrawled on a large blackboard – fried cuttlefish, perhaps, smoky chorizo, or “poor man’s potatoes”, sauteed with pepper, onion and garlic, or pay for additional dishes for just a few euros.

Dominating the skyline are the crenelated walls of the Islamic Alcazaba, or fortress, scribbling their way across the hills overlooking the city. Free to enter, this sprawling military complex dates to AD955 and is testament to Almeria’s medieval might as the most important port during Muslim rule of Spain. If it looks familiar, that’s because it served as a backdrop in both Game of Thrones and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Within the taupe walls, I wandered gardens with water features and visit the San Juan chapel, which was a mosque until the Catholic monarchs steamrolled their Christian reconquest south, taking Almeria in 1487.

For a little more historical context, the Yacimiento Arqueologico Barrio Andalusi lies at the foot of the fortress. Here, a series of cave dwellings were briefly – and ill-advisedly – turned into a hotel, until archaeologists found remnants of what was once a busy medieval neighbourhood. It’s now a lovely little museum where VR glasses invite visitors to step back into Islamic Spain.

Elsewhere in the city, I strolled among the paintings and sculptures of MuReC, a museum dedicated to the country’s contemporary realism movement. The setting, in the restored, 16th century Santa Maria Magdalena hospital, was impressive, too.

My favourite spot, though, was the Casa del Cine, on the city outskirts. Housed in a grand mansion, where Clint Eastwood and John Lennon both stayed while filming in the city, it celebrates how the Tabernas Desert became Hollywood’s favourite set for 1960s spaghetti westerns like The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, and even Ridley Scott’s in 2014.

But really, Almeria is best enjoyed through strolling, sipping and socialising. I watched a jubilant wedding party emerge from the cathedral while sipping a sundowner at Hotel Catedral, set in a 19th century manor house.

In the scruffy Pescadería fishing district, famous for its flamenco rhythms, I caught a show at La Canastera, before following the hum of late-night chatter down a side street to Piripi, the city’s tapas bar del momento. These are the places where you’ll find the real spirit of Almería. Go now, before the high-speed train changes it forever.

Where to stay
Hotel Catedral Almería has doubles from €97 (£83).

More information
turismodealmeria.org/en/