Malaga, Granada.

5 comments
Lodging, Travel

Leaving Sevilla was much easier than getting there (meaning I only got lost and turned around twice, and didn’t end up in any scary narrow alleys). In short order I was on the road to Malaga.

One of the benefits of driving instead of taking a train or a plane is that you can stop at places that look interesting.  And so it was that I ended up stopping in a town that bursted with odd parallels for me.  I initially stopped to try to get a picture of the massive fields of olive trees that march from horizon to horizon across the rolling hills here.  I ended up just taking pictures of the town.

So, the odd parallels: turns out the town’s name is Estepa, which reminded me of my friends Note and Arta Estapa (note: first names changed ’cause, well, internet).

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Estepa, Purdy no?

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Victoria Tower. Near the top of the city. Also pretty.

So, I travel steeply up tiny, winding alley-like roads (it’s Spain, you come to accept this), and I eventually get near the top only to discover there is a place here called Church of Carmen. Having just come from Playa Del Carmen, that rings a bell for me.

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Church of Carmen. Doesn’t sound quite as fun as Playa

Not only that, it’s on top of “San Cristobal Hill”. You may recall I was in San Cristobal, Mexico not so long ago. Spooky.

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On top of San Cristobal Hill

I didn’t stay too long, both for fear of uncovering even more parallels, then turning a corner and running into my future self who would divulge the exact day and time that I would die. I’ve seen the movies, this is how these things go.

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Also: Santa Clara convent

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Another view.

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Picturesque. The whole town is like this. Quaint.

So, after bailing out of there, the next stop was Malaga.

Now, nobody told me about Malaga. I mean, other than to say: “oh, hey, while you are in Spain, you should see these 47 cities” (of which Malaga was one). So, I arrive with expectations that this will be a sleepy little coast town and give me my first glimpse of the Mediterranean.

My expectations were a bit too low:

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The beach proudly proclaims itself.

So it turns out to be a major vacation town with a fantastic tourist center.

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Malaga. Not a sleepy beach town.

Downtown all the streets are wide and clean, with marble sidewalks and palm trees.

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These streets were made fer walkin’…

The beach, however pretty, doesn’t really hold a candle to the Maya Riviera in Mexico. The sand is more like dirt, and there’s crazy winds that blow up huge clouds of dust. Also: water was a bit chilly and there are no waves to be seen.

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The wind was something else though.

However! The town itself is stellar. I started by discovering stairs that slope and zigzag up the side of a hill:

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They were made to be climbed. You really have no choice.

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The steps go on for quite a while. But with lovely views.

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The views get better as you go up.

These steps lead you to the base of Castle Gibralfaro, which is a massive castle that affords you amazing views of the entire town since it is perched at the top of the highest hill smack in the center of the city.

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The castle dominates

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Did I mention the views?

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Walkin’ around the castle.

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Castle. City. Yep: awesome views.

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Well, it’s Spain, you HAVE to have a bullfighting ring, yes?

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One hill not covered quite yet with houses.

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So, yeah. City is big.

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Hotel at the top of the hill. Spendy? Probably.

So, once you come down off the hill and the castle, you’ve got a huge city to walk around and see. I didn’t take nearly as much time as one could to explore this place, mostly ’cause I had no idea what I was in for and had already reserved a hostel in Granada for the night. A few more things I was able to fit in:

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Down from the castle, you’ve got a theater. Not in use, apparently

Apparently some famous artist was born and grew up here:

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Picasso’s building.

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Picasso’s pad

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Picasso chilled here.

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Picasso’s dad worked here.

So yeah; there’s museums (one devoted to Picasso), a massive cathedral, and a bunch more about this town, not to mention all the restaurants, a huge shopping walk along the pier, and more. One could (and probably should) spend many days here. But I was off to Granada.

I rolled into Granada about 7:30, and experienced a new level of confusion: the hostel I was to stay in was on an alley so narrow and small it didn’t show up on maps. So that’s fun. Turns out to be a fantastic hostel though. In the previous hostel I was surprised to be the youngest one there. This one turned out to be a real “youth” hostel, but the kids took the old man in regardless and we went out for tapas on the town.  Good finish for the day.

Next up: Granada and the journey to Valencia.

5 thoughts on “Malaga, Granada.”

    • Agreed. There’s a serious lack of Meebus here. I’m beginning to suspect he was monkeynapped and Korey is attempting to shield us from all the grief.

      • Things intentionally left behind on my trip so far:
        – hat (didn’t use it much, got sick of trying to take care of it)
        – extra pair of running shorts (they didn’t have pockets, and as such are useless as I always have to have some form of key, money, and my phone with me)
        – underwear (reaching their end of life expectancy)
        – shorts (they were proving too big for me)
        – malaria pills (outside of Mexico, I shouldn’t need them anymore)
        – stomach sickness pills (ditto)

        things unintentionally left behind:
        – Sneakers. Probably still under my bed in PDC.
        – Belt. No idea where this went. Could be in Mexico. Could be in Madrid. It’s just not in my backpack anymore.
        – my precious, precious cynicism.

        Nowhere in this list will you see Meebus, so I’m afraid I have no excuse. I’ve just been treating poor Meebus rather shabbily. With this timely scolding, I shall ensure he gets out in Valencia, Barcelona, and future endeavors.

  1. Meg says:

    Picasso’s full name is a mouthful: Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso.

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