Off to Malaga

Leaving Madrid was sudden so much so I found myself rushing to pack. We had laundry drying all over the apartment and food in the refrigerator. I decided to sit and have breakfast and finally use the internet which had been off the day before. Then I noticed her bags all near the door and I was still drinking a mug of coffee. She seemed really agitated at me not getting ready but I felt more compact than her. I'd packed up a lot last night so I was totally fine with not being speedy. Our host came up to assist us and they spoke for some time in the foyer. I hurriedly washed my dishes and situated my things. He helped carry our bags again but she kept trying to strong-arm and take her own things down three flights. Once at the door we said our goodbyes and began the walk through Plaza Mayor to the Sol Metro station. Once underground our particular train was not running so we were re-routed another direction back to Atocha. Lets just say it was a sweaty mess because we were crunched for time and carrying a lot.

While waiting for the train we sat and people watched. We definitely noticed a mass exodus from Madrid. There were so many young people with their boogie boards. So many world travelers with their packs and guitars. So many elite types that looked like they were finally ready for "bacations". She took the window seat this time. It was a real obvious "bitch I'm getting the window seat" run for it. Now personally I had taken the window seat now three times now - to Paris, to Barcelona and to Madrid. So I guess it was only fair for her to take what was rightfully hers. In actuality, it didn't matter where I sat but her asking or even telling would have been cool. I believe I slept most of the trip. I really don't remember any scenery or pulling into the station. I recall being inside the station and noticing it wasn't primitive like all the others. The place had air conditioning, an H & M and a friggin Dunkin Donuts. We exited the station and took a cab. There really wasn't much to see but neighborhoods, apartment buildings, bodegas and some major creek we kept running into. The cab ride was wild to say the least. This poor man kept having to go in circles to make it to our hotel. There was the creek, a lot of one ways and then construction - very loud and dusty construction. He had to let us out at the corner nearest to the hotel. We teetered through construction workers and the noise of jackhammer to get inside.

My first reaction was "why is this happening"? We had planned nine days in Malaga hoping for a beach town with cheap food and free sites. This was purely for relaxation - the official beginning of it. I didn't see the beach. I saw no restaurants. I also saw no sites. Our hotel was in a ghost town full of sawdust, plywood covered holes and sex shops … several of them. The only activity was a Middle Eastern shop all a buzz because it was the height of Ramadan. Our hotel was equally full of dust but received us like nothing was happening outside. I liked the inside of the reception and lobby. I thought everything was very chic and Miami like. There was lots of Greek key and white. There were pops of hot pink and lacquered black. I just wondered how we booked a hotel with obvious ongoing construction and not been thwarted by bad reviews. I felt like I was missing something important but I did have a total of nine days to figure that out.

A guy with a lovely accent greeted us, copied our passports, there was cool water to drink and we were given two keys up front. We'd been anticipating a beautiful room courtesy of the RoomMate hotel franchise. Having never stayed in one of the boutique hotels before we had high expectations and they all were met. Our room was huge. Seriously for a single bed our room was basically a double with lots of lounging room. We had a huge window, several chairs, a double closet and mini bar refrigerator. Our bathroom was massive and well stocked. We also had housekeeping that was enthusiastic about providing whatever we asked for. We unpacked, freshened up and headed out for dinner and whatever else Malaga had to offer. We headed south by foot past the sex shops and dust. We walked by a few breakfast spots, then a garden, some horses and to our right was a massive port. We chose to keep straight through a park of sorts covered in tropical greenery. There were carts selling ice cream and people skating and biking. Then there were official buildings, then Moorish castles and mountains covered in mansions. We then spotted piers and shopping across the street so we headed west. 

Once below by the water it seemed like a CityWalk of sorts full of shops, restaurants just off the water and there were party boats all docked on the marina. We decided to keep walking where people were setting up for the evening - crafters, bar stations, ball pits for children and then we felt the breeze. Somewhere there was a beach and we kept going down to find it. Once at the brink you could hear the waves, the people and taste the salt. We could already see boats and ships exiting the bay but we sought the sand and shoreline. There it was - the most amazing beach line for miles and miles and miles. There were people laying out, there were children running, there were boats being used for BBQ, there were bars making drinks. It was like the ultimate beach. Straight ahead were waves, to the left were mountains and to the right a shore line full of rocks and get this… wild cats. There were hundreds of wild once house cats living in the rocks. We took off our shoes, rolled up our pants and seized the cat land. There we sat for nearly an hour just taking it in. We hardly even spoke. Malaga!

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