Thursday, 8 March 2012 - Malaga, Spain
I visited Malaga on two cruises in the early 2000s. Both times the gateway city to the Costa del Sol was a bit dowdy but very charming. Charming because of the very impressive cathedral, the warren of little streets with authentic Spanish tapas joints, big boulevards along the waterfront, and especially for the seaside hill with a Roman theater at the base, an old fort on its side, and a lovely park on the top. The little cruise pier was at the base of the main street so you could walk off the ship and be right in the heart of the city immediately. OK, the portside park was kind of dirty, the streets were poorly maintained, and the residents of the town looked like they lived in a gateway rather than a destination.
Today we docked pre-dawn at the brand new cruise pier which is at the end of the brand new cement causeway which juts out from the band new cruise shopping mall complete with brand new artificial restaurants with names like, "Los Amigos", and brand new jewelry/diamond stores. In other words, it looks like any other cruise port in the world. Oh, and did I mention the huge, uh, brand new cruise terminal building with a bevy of security guards complete with x-ray machines, magnetometers, but oddly enough no ID check of any kind. The cruise port theater has come to lovely Malaga.
I came up to breakfast to bid Barbara a fond farewell for her 8:15 am departure for her all day tour to Granada and the "once in a lifetime" thrill of seeing The Alhambra. Since my ticket had been punched with that one in 2003 I took the long shuttle bus ride to where the ship used to berth downtown and wondered for 3 or 4 miles. The city, by the way, when you finally find it from the new cruise ship berths is now absolutely lovely. The profligate Spanish government has spent lavishly on restoring Malaga to a worthy destination in itself. The seaside park has been spectacularly restored, the streets and boulevards are clean and busy with happy looking locals, and school kids all tied together (as well they should be) are led up and down the streets to the delight of the few cruise ship passengers who actually make it to downtown Malaga.
After lunch I will take a 4 hour tour to the "white town" of Mijas up at the dizzying height of 1280 feet MSL. Barbara and I will reunite this evening after being separate for the first time since she took an all day tour of Jerusalem and I a half day tour of Tel Aviv. I am planning a celebration dinner for her Tennessee house no longer being her Tennessee house. Now we can afford gas for my 1994 Corolla and maybe another cruise (or three).
Mijas
As Barbara was immersed in Moorish excellence, I took the half day trip to "The Village of Mijas." It turned out to be one of those towns that look best when you're far from it. When you're close in, it looks like every other tourist trap. You can buy Chinese made back scratchers, pictures of Picasso (hey, it's his home area), and take donkey or horse cart rides. Although frequently washed and presumably Simonized, the horses and donkeys were as bored as I was when the very burnt out guide (who seemed to be wearing a equally very long dead animal around her neck) announced that we would have 2 ½ hours to "get to know the town". I took a long walk with a like minded fellow guest, and then we joined her husband for a beer which we stretched out until the time was over.
Mijas is actually very pretty, the church built into the rocks kind of spooky, and the views are knockouts. Rate the bus ride from Malaga an "B+", the views from the town an "A", and the guide a "D" which changed to an "F" when she suggested that we "know how to appreciate" her if we enjoyed her narration. From what I could tell, no on her bus knew how.
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