1) After writing my morning pages on my little balcony, I headed behind the hotel to hike up to the Alcazaba, an old fortress or something from the Moorish era. Beautiful views of the port and the city compensated for the steep climb on slippery stones and through several switchbacks. So many opportunities to be grateful that I am making this journey now and not postponing it for later in my life!
It’s breathtaking, and it took my breath.
2) I wasn’t in the mood for an audioguide today, and as I wandered through the gardens and ruins of the Alcazaba, I didn’t need it. The walk today functioned more as a memory aid. I found myself remembering many moments from my career, my family life. Perhaps this day’s journey was like walking a labyrinth.
3) There was another site included in my ticket, but when I found out it was a further 20-minute walk uphill, I took a pass. Instead, with great timidity and baby steps in some parts, I retraced my steps down the mountain and went in search of lunch.
4) Now this is what I love about Spain: they serve you a potato salad that has meat in it, and shaped like a crown. What’s not to love?
5) Continuing evidence of flamenco was everywhere in the town, especially the women in flamenco dresses.
6) After lunch, Málaga Cathedral, soaring, grand, beautiful.
7) And then I actually took advantage of the hotel pool for a quick swim and an Aperol spritz. The sun was fierce, and the vibe was British Holiday, although there were a couple Sven from Sveden types.
8) In the evening, I put on my seersucker suit for an elegant dinner in the hotel’s rooftop restaurant. The host led me to a table right next to the balcony railing . . . and I could stand it for only about ten minutes before asking to be moved to a table away from the edge. My fear of heights really seems to be coming back this trip.
8a) Anybody from Lago di Carlo will remember when Ryan Street was turned into a pedestrian mall in the early 1970s, including a clock tower with a wide second-floor viewing platform. One evening our family was downtown with another family, and I just refused to go up in the clock tower. Well that lasted about five minutes; Daddy came back down that corkscrew staircase, marched me upstairs, and made me walk around the perimeter of that platform for a good five minutes. It was very embarrassing, but it cured my fear of heights — or at least of that particular height.
From my table I could see all the ground I’d covered in the morning. That’s the Alcazaba on top.
9) The dinner itself was lovely: foie gras with quince terrine*, bream (!) with garlic and roasted eggplant, and a glass of white wine that arrived after I finished my dinner.
10) All in all, Málaga was interesting, but it didn’t put me in the best mood for some reason. I was content to spend the rest of the evening in my room, packing and watching Desirée.
Savory bream with garlic and roasted eggplant.
*Doesn’t that sound like a detective’s name: Quince Terrine, Private Eye?