Malaga’s Old Town

We’re off to Malaga!  It’s National Day in Spain – a contentious subject in some parts as this is the day Christopher Columbus (Cristóbal Colón) ‘discovered’ the Americas.  Known in some places as Columbus Day, others have changed it to reflect a more inclusive or indigenous nature.  Mostly, people are just glad of a holiday.

The modern downtown area was avoided with surprising ease – and we drove along the waterfront on wide boulevards to the old section.  Cool shaded parks, meandering walkways, playgrounds, fountains and statues were there for people to enjoy.  Two cruise ships were docked … one smaller, one huge.  Not a lot of passengers immediately visible.

There was a parking lot right beside the Alcazaba – how handy is that?  After a couple of futile tours around the first parking level… with cars stalking returning pedestrians, or disgorging all passengers before attempting impossibly tight parking maneuvers into the skinniest of spots . . . we descended a floor.  Why … there’s tons of empty spots down here … we’re spoiled for choice!

Two cups of dense hot chocolate and a plate of piping hot, freshly cooked churros were the perfect energy snack.  The churros were excellent dipped in chocolate or sprinkled with sugar (however my favourite’s still with sugar).

The Roman amphitheater is a mere two minute walk across the road and through crowded plaza lined with overflowing food establishments and hawkers selling the usual hats, trinkets and paintings.  Online, you can see tickets for the Roman ruins being sold for 30 euros . . . but one can walk past and view all you like, for free!

We splurged, and got seniors passes for both the Alcazaba and the Castillo de Gibralfaro .. a bargain at 2.5 euros each.  Then we walked up through the slippery, well-worn cobblestones, through a Moorish arch and into a rocky walled garden dripping with palm trees, cactus, philodendrons – with leaves the size of umbrellas.  This Alcazaba felt warm, intimate and inviting … quite different from the one in Cordoba.  Around every corner and archway – surprise gardens, mosaic-tiled ceilings, reflective pools, a restful bench.

Then for a change, we followed the busy thoroughfare past the distinctive building which years ago had been a hotel we stayed in (now a bank and private apartments) – there’s a statue of Hans Christian Anderson outside.

Crossing the road, it was a relief to enter the cool interior of the park. Here families or couples strolled enjoying a leisurely afternoon … a kiosk with roasting chestnuts . . . musicians serenading.  One in particular – a saxophonist –  halted us in our tracks with a glorious and haunting rendition of an Andrea Bocelli piece — Con te Partiro.  Soon he had an appreciative audience who spontaneously applauded and cheered as he finished – and contributing to his earnings in the process.

There was a rude awakening along the harbour front however.  An onslaught of commercialism … Burger King, McDonalds, Hard Rock Cafe, Duncan Donuts . . . expensive shoe and handbag stores . . . restaurants packed cheek by jowl – beckoning you to ‘try a taste of Spain’ … ‘Authentic Paella’ … ‘Tapas, only one  euro’ (crisps/potato chips on a plate – I kid you not!).  The lighthouse was worth a picture, but we hot-footed it back to the serenity of the park.

Roasted almonds in paper cones – the cart owner was chatting to a friend, but keeping a wary eye on the wily pigeons who edged ever closer.  Suddenly, with a roar and great flapping of arms he dispersed the flock . . .  but only temporarily.  They gradually melted back.  And who could blame them – the roasted almonds were delicious.  Different in shape and flavour from those in California.  Flatter, more rounded.

We could put off the hill climb no longer. Thankfully, a couple of weeks training on Antequera’s streets have prepared us, but it was still a haul to the top.  Worth it for the magnificent views though. The whole of Malaga lay spread out before you like a map . . .  the bull ring … harbour … lighthouse… city … and coastline. Afterwards, a cup of tea under the wisteria pergola didn’t go amiss

Neither of us felt like going out for dinner when we got home … so we raided the fridge and constructed a kitchen sink omelet … bursting with onions, peppers, tomatoes, chunks of local chorizo and topped with Manchego cheese.  One of these days we will have to find a place that does a really good, authentic paella.  I made a version of one the other day with saffron from Malaga – not bad … and even better as leftovers with added prawns.  But we still want to try the real thing.