We begin three days on the Costa del Sol
“The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain.”
-Alan Jay Lerner, My Fair Lady
Lerner was a liar! The rain in Spain falls mainly on tourists such as ourselves no matter where we are. And, yes, we do empathize with the people of Andalusia who have been suffering a drought since 2016. However, and I am writing this paragraph four days after this pages’ date, why did the heavens decide to open up and dump their life-giving water almost no-stop just when we arrive? It can certainly put a damper, pun intended, on a walking tour…as we will see.
This was a very light day photographically because most of it was spent either on the bus or enjoying a home-hosted luncheon at a small village en route to the Mediterranean coast.
I’m pretty sure that I’ve written on other travel blogs that I’m not really a fan of the home-hosted meals program. From the first, I was stressed by the implied obligation to bring a token or gift representative of one’s home country or city. Often, the “meal” was tepid tea and a biscuit. And while this was an opportunity to interact with a local, my experiences had mostly been long, awkward stretches of silence punctuated by inappropriate or embarrassing questions. No comments are needed on the poor language skills of Americans. For all the above reasons, I’ve skipped a few of these when possible.
But, today was radically different–and not just because I couldn’t pass on it if I had wanted to! We were split up between four seasoned hostesses who made and served a full-on luncheon in their home. Pepi, our hostess with a home-based hair salon business on the side, was incredible. I found her English excellent. And she was obviously a seasoned host. (She later told us her mother had been doing these hosted visits for 30 years.)
After touring her home, we all watched her make fresh gazpacho before being seated at the table. (She apologized that cold gazpacho was not usually served on a chilly, rainy day such as today. But, my gods, it was DELICIOUS. I had four servings myself!) There were fresh olives, fresh bread, fresh salad and vino tinto (red wine) on the table. We were served a hot eggplant soup (it should be mentioned here that most of her ingredients were locally sourced, often from her own families’ gardens) and a pork main dish. The meal was capped off with individual flans (Yum!), hot beverages and/or shots of brandy. And Pepi, with the cooking & serving done, joined us for a some conversation and a few toasts.
Sated after our two hour meal, the drive continued until we reached Málaga on the coast.
First stop, as can be expected when you have a busload of senior passengers, was for los baños on a dockside promenade of restaurants and shops. There was one photo opportunity, a picture of the cathedral’s dome. (I wasn’t interested in taking a picture of the huge oligarch’s yacht tied up directly in front of us.)
Once “emptied”, we hopped back on the bus for a tour of Juanjo’s home town…which, at first, didn’t really show us Malága’s best side. Then we reached a traffic circle wrapped around a fountain featuring the Three Graces. Suddenly, we were visually gobsmacked by one spectacular view after another: the stunning fountain; the adjacent “tropical” park (lotsa palm trees!); the stalwart city hall; and, in the distance, the omnipresent cathedral. There was a beautiful side to this city…besides being the home town of Antonio Banderas.
Unfortunately, you will have to take my word for it as there was no time to turn on a camera much less compose a shot. We were in traffic that was being hustled around the circle due to road closures for the Holy Week processions.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Our bus made its way west along the coast towards Torremolinos and our hotel. We were checked in. We unpacked. Time was spent drinking wine on Peg’s balcony. (Yes! We have our first (and only) balconies which have a clear view of the Mediterranean without having to lean dangerously over the railing!) Now hungry, we rode a public lift to the upper town where we dined on octopus and beer. To promote digestion, we did some light window-shopping before taking the “400” steps (Not really. It’s as accurate as a “Spanish five minutes” is timely) back down to our hotel’s street and returned.
Spain and Portugal in Depth 