Morocco Malta and the Med: Malaga, Spain
Dawn finds us in Malaga, our last new city on this cruise.
You can see the buses lined up already to take us on tours of the city.
In front of us looks like a huge beer tent!
We are told this cruise ship never moves. It is undergoing renovation and no one knows when it will finish.
Lots of Expats buying property in Malaga, forcing prices up, our guide tells us.
You can see the bull fighting arena from this overlook.
Malaga is proudly home to Picasso’s birthplace.
Once again we were trying to break down some of our larger Euro bills so we went into a supermarket where we found some small things. I went through the cashier and then waited outside for my husband. He got the old fish eye; maybe the cashier is wise to tourists needing smaller change.
Love to see recycling!
Tourists love Malaga. It is the end of November. The place is packed, expecially here at the castle.
The guide is finishing our walking tour, which has been crowded with many groups of people just like us.
As the guide finishes our walking tour, which has been crowded but informative and a lot of fun, he points out the way to the open market (!) and then shows us where we will be able to catch the shuttle back to the ship. Yes! He also points out one of the oldest ice cream shops in Malaga, famous for the quality and variety of its ice creams. Sign us up!
We thank the guide, tip him with great appreciation, and head off toward the old central market. If you haven’t guessed, this is one of our favorite places to eat (think really fresh), for taking photos, and for seeing people who really live in a place and what they are buying and eating. We find an outdoor restaurant where people are eating interesting-looking food. We get to know the couple at the table next to us; they are from Amsterdam and just down for a four-day weekend to soak up some beach time and some good Spanish food. What a luxury to just come to Malaga for a four-day weekend!
My husband’s beer glass was particularly beautiful. The beer was very good.
Above are Tomatoes and Tuna, very fresh, very good. Below are anchovies in a vinegar brine. A little was good, but this was too much anchovy, and raw, even for me. The green olives were delicious.
A brochette of grilled shrimp – fresh, delicious.
Spicy shrimp with garlic and peppers. You think you are OK and you are thinking how delicious this dish is, and then the heat hits you. Oh Wow! We had fresh bread to soak up the sauces.
We’ve saved room for dessert and AdventureMan kept track of where the famous ice cream shop was.
Look at that chocolate! It was decadent, so chock full of flavor. AdventureMan had the pistachio and says it was very fine pistachio ice cream.
No, not small servings, but it is our last day in Spain, and the ice cream is so good we choose not to feel guilty about it. As it turned out, it was so rich, I couldn’t eat all of mine anyway.
We walk down to where the guide showed us to catch a shuttle back to the ship, and – nothing. No people, no signage, nothing. Maybe we misunderstood? We walked about a mile along a tourist waterfront walkway and asked people; no one could tell us. At the other end, the Hop On Hop Off boat people said they thought it was back where we started.
Back where we started are some passengers we recognize, and they are all grumbling and complaining. No signage, no red-vested Viking people but this is where the shuttle is supposed to be and they were told the shuttle drivers were taking an hour or so for lunch. There is one young man that they think is with Viking but he is busy looking at his phone, does not seem to speak English (or doesn’t want to) and is not helpful. He does have a red Viking bag.
And then we see the shuttle. It is coming! We get on, and some of the crew get on and we are all riding back together but here come some more Viking passengers and there is no more room in the bus! The passengers are running across the busy street, waving their arms and yelling “Wait! Wait!” but the driver drives faster. We know they got back to the ship on the next bus, but they were angry!
Ah well. Small drama. We put on our swimsuits and head for the spa. As we soak in the waves and bubbles for the last time, we review the trip and think how lucky we are. We never had any serious rain, only maybe ten minutes in Malta. No big deal. And all the ports gave us what we needed – new sights, new experiences, new understanding of how the world works. We love our cabin, our stewards have treated us like royalty, and we’ve met some interesting people and some nice people. This has been a really good trip for us.
Tonight is a special night, a BBQ at the swimming pool with live music and dancing, loud speakers and games.
It is also Thanksgiving. We thought we would go to the BBQ but as we walk through it is crowded and we don’t see anywhere to sit, so we go into the World Cafe. The World Cafe is quieter and we have turkey and whatever else we want. We don’t mind missing the BBQ. We are not too hungry because of the meal at the market and the ice cream 😊.
Sailing away from Malaga.
We find life on a ship can be a little compressing; these stops in Cadiz and Malaga have given us what we need; time on our own to walk and explore and learn at our own pace, to stop and eat good ice cream when we want, to just sit and chat with strangers, to stop in a China shop for a hair clip – just time, time to ourselves. These are the things that make us happy when we travel.
Grenada, Spain; One of the Most Beautiful Cities on Earth
Did you know the Spanish word for pomegranate is “grenade?” I didn’t know that either, but pomegranate is one of my favorite fruits. When I was a little girl, my mother would buy me a pomegranate now and again (these were not common where I grew up) because of the legend of Persephone. I was heavy into Greek and Roman mythology and she encouraged my explorations.
Grenada in named for the pomegranates. They grow everywhere in Grenada, and were in full fruit when we visited. After some of the rainy touring days we had, Grenada shone forth in warm sunshine and blue skies with perfect clouds for photo-taking. We toured the town, and then (dramatic pause) (hushed voice) we visited the Alhambra.
What I have loved about this journey is the intermingling of Arabic in the Spanish; Guadalquivir River “wadi al kebir”, Alhambra “al hamra”, and it really is very red. And it really is very beautiful, so very beautiful in glorious detail. I’m going to bore you with more photos than you ever wished to see because . . . well, I hate to be rude, but . . . it’s my blog. I love each and every photo.
This is our group, gathering around our guide to enter the Alhambra.
If this were a fabric, I would have a dress made of it. I loved the intricate intersection, and the blending of the blue and cream and brown.
This is my favorite photo, for any number of reasons, cats, light and shadow, intricate tracery on columns, etc. but it is also a reminder of a very strange occurrence. I had just finished taking this shot, hunched down for a low angle, when a young woman in a group of four came along and shoved others, and then me, out of the way. Literally, she took my arm and started to move me and said “we’re taking a group photo now.”
Normally, I tend to defer, but her arrogance, and her disregard for the feeling of others prickled me, and so I pulled my arm away and looked at her cooly, and said “as soon as I am done with my photo, I will move and you can take your shot. Or you can shoot it from another angle.” I don’t know why I did that, I am surprised at myself. I don’t like to cause trouble. But who has the right to shove others out of the way???
That is the memory this photo brings back.
Please look at this photo, not that it is anything special but because there are people in it. I want you to appreciate how really, really, very hard it was to take some of these photos without people in them. I had to wait and wait, sometimes, (gasp!) I even got separated from my group for a short time, in the interest of getting an unimpeded shot. We were there at a lovely time of the year, perfect weather, and we thought there would not be too many tourists. We were astonished, in Seville, in Cordoba, in Grenada just how many tourists there were.
And here is where AHI Travel did something really right. This is the last day of the tour, tomorrow we all disembark and head for the Malaga airport and from there, to places scattered around the world. Just a short walk from the Alhambra is a beautiful hotel, beautifully situated, the Alhambra Palace. We’ve made note of it because we intend to come back to Grenada, and we want to stay in this hotel. This is where we ate lunch.
Our group had a closed in verandah with a beautiful view. Lunch was served in courses, and each was carefully prepared, and delicious. Very very clever way to end the tours on a high note 🙂
The room was beautiful. The table service was beautiful.
The view was beautiful.
After the meal, we got back on the bus to head back for the ship. Once on board, we had a Smithsonian meeting and then another lecture and then dinner, and something happened that has not happened to me for a long time, I had to pack at the last minute. Our suitcases had to be outside our door before we went to bed so they could be loaded to go, very early the next morning, to the airport.
I was coming down with something. I felt hot and feverish, and my nose was running. All my life, I have had nightmares about last minute packing. I hate doing last-minute anything, I am a planner, I like having a certain amount of control over my life, even though it is an illusion, it is an illusion I work hard to maintain. How did this happen to me? How is it that I am packing at the last minute, feverish and anxious?
It all got done. Fortunately, there are a limited number of places you can put things. For some reason, I am not able to download all our boarding passes, so we have only the first ones and will have to get the rest at the airport. I know where my passport is (I never have found the one I lost somewhere in my office) and my tickets and somehow we are finished and all is well by bedtime. I just hate that feeling of being rushed; when I am rushed, I make mistakes.
Every now and then something good happens. There is a huge line in Malaga, but our new friends also have tickets that put us in another line, and we get through quickly, with no problems. We say goodbye, we’ve exchanged e-mail addresses, and we go our separate ways. We have time to relax.
We arrive in Paris barely on time, and it is a Sunday morning with long lines at security, and there is no way out, we have to stand in line. We watch one very elderly man, unsteady, but with a great sense of humor, cope as he has to go through the full-body scan. Even though it is a few days before the bombing, security is tight. The airport is a nightmare. We have no idea where our next gate is, and we are almost running, as it is already our boarding time and we are not there. We have to go down this hall and that, then down to some gate where we catch a bus, then from that bus to somewhere else where we get to our plane with five or ten minutes to spare. That is cutting it way to close for me, but I know by now that I am coming down with one of the world’s worst colds and I sleep all the way from Paris to Atlanta, waking up now and ten to drink some Pomegranate Pizazz with honey to make the cold go away.
Not only does the cold not go away – I very generously shared it with AdventureMan. We both felt so bad we were sleeping all the time and didn’t even notice the jet lag 🙂 so by the time we were well again, we were also sleeping on Pensacola time. As soon as we were well, we got the super-strong flu shots to protect ourselves from anything worse than we’ve just had. 🙂
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