Field Trip to Malaga February 21, 2014
Thursday marked the third week since we arrived in our little town of Alozaina. For most of that time we haven't been inside a motor vehicle, which is a pretty long stretch for us. We were getting a bit itchy so took a field trip on a bus to the seaside city of Malaga yesterday, about 30 miles away.
We'd been curious about Malaga for awhile. Just a couple of nights previously, from a friend's balcony here in Alozaina, we had caught a glimpse of Malaga's twinkling lights, nestled in a gap between mountains. Traveling there on a bus takes about an hour in order to negotiate steep, curvy roads and a few stops along the way. Olive trees bordered the road in the higher altitudes. They were replaced by groves of heavily laden orange trees as we approached the coast.
Malaga has a population of over half a million people, so it's a big place. Huge apartment blocks, 5-6 stories tall, took the place of food crops as we entered the city. A couple of large engineering schools with windmills on their roofs, appropriately enough, had prominent positions along the highway. Further along, big shopping centers appeared with names that we've come to recognize - Carrefour, the grocery store chain and El Corte Ingles (the English Cut), an upscale department store chain, and others. Billboards showed up, too. We'd forgotten about those in our secluded village.
Upon our arrival in the big central bus station, we got our bearings, thanks to Bruce's new GPS device - and my exquisite sense of direction :). Those two go hand-in-hand, sometimes toe-to-toe! - whenever we are in a new place. On the far side of a dribbly river, with a high overpass, was the older part of the city. We wandered a bit aimlessly, enjoying the warmth of the day, a pleasant change from often chilly Alozaina, shedding our outer layers, feeling that fun sense of discovery, rather like opening a gift. Much of the commercial area is pedestrianized. Old churches and convents were tucked among the chic shops and pretty pastry cafes. A couple of historic buildings were designed in a striped brick pattern that gave them a contemporary feel. A lively male dancer energetically tapped a flamenco rhythm on the smooth stone sidewalk, hoping for donations from passers-by. Tourists from northern climes could be easily spotted, faces tilted to the sun, one dressed in shorts!
Sacred Heart Church (I believe) in Malaga
After a stop for coffee, we passed a tapas bar, called Soho, with a huge tv screen showing the Olympics. I'm not usually a sports bar kind of gal, but the chance to catch a glimpse of the Olympics was a draw. Sweden and Switzerland's girls hockey teams were duking it out. I would have preferred skiing or figure skating, but we sipped on a glass of wine and nibbled on tapas until we'd had enough frantic skating up and down the rink.
The boulevard that leads from the old city to the beachfront area, called La Malagueta, is a beautiful walkway, lined with palm trees, as well as plane trees, bare at this time of year.
The lovely Paseo del Parque in Malaga
By mid-afternoon, hardy young men on the beach, stripped down to just shorts, were playing volleyball. They must have been vacationers, strutting their stuff just because they could. It was lovely weather but not quite that warm - in my opinion! This part of Malaga reminded us of Nice, both Mediterranean cities with lovely boulevards and beaches. Malaga's beach is sandy, as opposed to Nice's pebbles, which looked quite uncomfortable, as I recall. Here, in the reportedly posh area of Malaga, apartment buildings lining the shore rose 12-13 stories tall.
THIS is what we came to Spain for!
We caught the last bus back to Alozaina, leaving at 5pm. About 15 other passengers boarded with us, many of them older folks who knew each other and chatted all the way. At another "pueblo blanco" not far from Alozaina, a teenage boy got on briefly just to say hi to the old guys, who brightened up and reached out to give him a friendly pat.
As fun as it was to be in a big city for the day, it felt good to return to a familiar place where folks all greeted us with "hola" as we made our way down the sidewalk. Workmen were erecting a huge tent in the middle of the main street, in preparation for Canaval, due to take place this weekend. When we stopped for bread, the friendly lady in the panaderia updated us on the particulars of Carnaval. She offered Bruce the Carnaval poster from her shop, which made his day. We were definitely in a different part of the world from the big city, so close and yet so far.
We'd been curious about Malaga for awhile. Just a couple of nights previously, from a friend's balcony here in Alozaina, we had caught a glimpse of Malaga's twinkling lights, nestled in a gap between mountains. Traveling there on a bus takes about an hour in order to negotiate steep, curvy roads and a few stops along the way. Olive trees bordered the road in the higher altitudes. They were replaced by groves of heavily laden orange trees as we approached the coast.
Malaga has a population of over half a million people, so it's a big place. Huge apartment blocks, 5-6 stories tall, took the place of food crops as we entered the city. A couple of large engineering schools with windmills on their roofs, appropriately enough, had prominent positions along the highway. Further along, big shopping centers appeared with names that we've come to recognize - Carrefour, the grocery store chain and El Corte Ingles (the English Cut), an upscale department store chain, and others. Billboards showed up, too. We'd forgotten about those in our secluded village.
Upon our arrival in the big central bus station, we got our bearings, thanks to Bruce's new GPS device - and my exquisite sense of direction :). Those two go hand-in-hand, sometimes toe-to-toe! - whenever we are in a new place. On the far side of a dribbly river, with a high overpass, was the older part of the city. We wandered a bit aimlessly, enjoying the warmth of the day, a pleasant change from often chilly Alozaina, shedding our outer layers, feeling that fun sense of discovery, rather like opening a gift. Much of the commercial area is pedestrianized. Old churches and convents were tucked among the chic shops and pretty pastry cafes. A couple of historic buildings were designed in a striped brick pattern that gave them a contemporary feel. A lively male dancer energetically tapped a flamenco rhythm on the smooth stone sidewalk, hoping for donations from passers-by. Tourists from northern climes could be easily spotted, faces tilted to the sun, one dressed in shorts!
After a stop for coffee, we passed a tapas bar, called Soho, with a huge tv screen showing the Olympics. I'm not usually a sports bar kind of gal, but the chance to catch a glimpse of the Olympics was a draw. Sweden and Switzerland's girls hockey teams were duking it out. I would have preferred skiing or figure skating, but we sipped on a glass of wine and nibbled on tapas until we'd had enough frantic skating up and down the rink.
The boulevard that leads from the old city to the beachfront area, called La Malagueta, is a beautiful walkway, lined with palm trees, as well as plane trees, bare at this time of year.
By mid-afternoon, hardy young men on the beach, stripped down to just shorts, were playing volleyball. They must have been vacationers, strutting their stuff just because they could. It was lovely weather but not quite that warm - in my opinion! This part of Malaga reminded us of Nice, both Mediterranean cities with lovely boulevards and beaches. Malaga's beach is sandy, as opposed to Nice's pebbles, which looked quite uncomfortable, as I recall. Here, in the reportedly posh area of Malaga, apartment buildings lining the shore rose 12-13 stories tall.
We caught the last bus back to Alozaina, leaving at 5pm. About 15 other passengers boarded with us, many of them older folks who knew each other and chatted all the way. At another "pueblo blanco" not far from Alozaina, a teenage boy got on briefly just to say hi to the old guys, who brightened up and reached out to give him a friendly pat.
As fun as it was to be in a big city for the day, it felt good to return to a familiar place where folks all greeted us with "hola" as we made our way down the sidewalk. Workmen were erecting a huge tent in the middle of the main street, in preparation for Canaval, due to take place this weekend. When we stopped for bread, the friendly lady in the panaderia updated us on the particulars of Carnaval. She offered Bruce the Carnaval poster from her shop, which made his day. We were definitely in a different part of the world from the big city, so close and yet so far.
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