Fuengirola to Malaga

What a difference a day makes. It’s actually raining this morning! All those people who came to escape the English weather will be totally fed up. But I imagine the locals will be happy as there is an impending drought and water restrictions over summer.

I had breakfast at Meson Salvador. All the other customers were Spanish, so it seems the Brits don’t know about it.

The Osborne bull stands guard over the town, with a bank of low cloud behind it.

This picture is in my room: such a good idea. I must try to copy it.

A sculpture on the beach yesterday. In the palm of my hand?

……… later:

I took the commuter train into Malaga: very convenient because there is a stop just behind the hotel. Everyone seemed to be going into town because of the poor weather, so the train got more and more crowded as we neared the city. On arrival, it was still raining and of course it’s a known fact that there are no taxis when it rains. I finally managed to get one and was transported to Hotel Eliseos, which is opposite the bull ring.

These shoes are not the best for wet weather ( though they were ultra comfortable on the long flights).

My budget room.

Delicious lunch across the road. The best Moules Marinieres this side of Marseille.

Fuengirola

I just talked to a woman at the pool: they flew from Luton to Malaga for £15. They have popped over for a 4-day break from the English weather. They come twice a year to this hotel because it’s quiet and clean and free of “lager louts”. I’m not sure what people do all day. There is a very long promenade: good for an early morning constitutional. Then you can lie by the pool for a few hours, if you are lucky enough to secure a lounge bed. I was determined to have a swim, even though the water was absolutely freezing. I also wanted to christen my new M&S costume. It turned out that the woman above makes money by buying old M&S clothes from outlets and selling them online.

View of my hotel from across the road. My room is one of those on the side, 5th floor, looking towards Malaga.

This view is from the water’s edge. The sand is swept clean every morning by machine.

Last night’s dinner: an enormous piece of swordfish with veggies. I specifically asked for no chips!

This morning’s breakfast: it’s a long time since I’ve had freshly made pancakes.

The bill!

I didn’t end up in Fuengirola by accident. For years I have been reading the blog of an American called Mitchell, who lives here with his partner, Gerry, and two cats. Their favourite restaurant is Meson Salvador, just a block away from the seafront. I had promised to meet them to teach them how to pronounce Worcestershire Sauce (which had been the subject of debate a few weeks ago). However, Mitchell has been in hospital for a week with some unidentified infection, so this was not the best time. Anyway, I went to Meson Salvador for an early dinner and chatted to the waiter for the latest news. It turned out that the two of them were booked in for dinner at 9.00 pm. I find the Spanish dinner time impossible and was tired after the trip from Gibraltar anyway. I asked the waiter to put some of the swordfish into a doggy bag for Mitchell and Gerry’s cats. Next minute, Mitchell was on the waiter’s mobile, telling me that their cats will only eat dried cat food! Oh well, I did try!

Beautiful display of geraniums in the square beside the hotel.

Top of the Rock

On my last day in Gibraltar, I caught the cable car to the top of the Rock. I got there shortly after it opened at 9.30 am. About 16 people get packed inside. There is also a way up by road, but I imagine the bends would be horrendous. You go from sea level to 410 feet (or is it meters?)  Here I am at the top:

This is looking down towards the airstrip:

Monkeys everywhere. There are signs to keep your bags, esp. plastic ones close to your body, as the monkeys think there might be food inside. One actually did try to grab mine as I was trying to film the cable car going down:

Here they are eating some apple:


Looking across to Algeciras where I was staying before:





Monkey in a dangerous spot on the cable car mechanism:




I need to get down now!

The most southerly point

I got on a bus near the Rock Hotel which was heading for Point Europa. I sat next to a local woman who has lived here for 50 years. She was planning to walk back into town. She is retired but her husband is still working and has a job cleaning all the bus shelters. It was a lovely clear day and you could see both Algeciras and Morocco from the Point.

After a little siesta, I went on a bus ride in the opposite direction. Of course, the Golden Arches have a presence here:

But I had my eye on another place for dinner. The Tramonti Ristorante in Casemates Square, nearer my home, is a little piece of Italy:

Here I enjoyed Tagliatelle Siciliana, with prawns, garlic and chilli and two glasses of white wine.

Gibraltar

I talked to two Swiss men at my hotel in Algeciras and they said they didn’t like Gibraltar because it was so crowded. They were right! It is packed in the middle of the day as more and more visitors arrive! I am staying in the Emile Youth Hostel in a tiny little room, which is situated in an annexe next to St Theresa Child Care Centre. 

At the other end of town is the famous Rock Hotel, which has a superb view over the harbour:

You can just see the cable car going up, top right.

I’ve already achieved one major objective: getting fitted for a bra and a swimming costume at M&S. Now I can relax for a bit, with a little sight seeing:

Haddock and chips last night: very tasty!

Looking up towards the rock from Grand Casemates Square.

Sunday in Algeciras

Nothing much seemed to be happening today.  Even my favourite supermarket, Carrefour Express was closed. I did see the archaeological site of the medieval walls, and then walked into the town centre and came to the main square Plaza Alta built on a higher level, but with a view of the port. This seemed to be where the action was: lots of little kids chasing the pigeons and then settling down to a story-telling session (see my Instagram).

The main square had some elaborate tile work, including these benches:

I think that they depicted scenes from Don Quixote.

Back at my hotel, they seemed to be preparing for a grand lunch. At about 2.00 pm, smartly dressed guests started to arrive. Time to make myself scarce and prepare some soup in my room! In the afternoon, the sun attracted a couple of men into the pool, which was protected by this code (123456#) I discovered. It was a bit cold for me, so I took the opportunity to do a bit of laundry. My room had a large bath, which is becoming unusual in Spain, so I filled it up and washed myself and my dirty clothes at the same time: a trick I’d learned on the Camino.

Hotel Reina Cristina

This is an old world hotel from a different era. Celebrities like Winston Churchill stayed here in its heyday. Now it is much frequented by tour groups because of its prime position and value-for-money accommodation. I talked to a couple last night who are with an English group on their way to Morocco. I’m slightly envious, but maybe to travel around Morocco on my own is a step too far. One of the things they told me was about an abortive trip to Australia when COVID broke out and the borders were closed. They had got as far as Dubai and had to turn round and go back home.

View from my room. I’m overlooking the pool, but the weather has turned cool and windy, so it’s no use to me!

This is the main lounge area near the foyer where people meet for pre-dinner drinks.

I asked if I could climb up to the roof to see the view. The Rock of Gibraltar can be seen across the bay.

The large number of tour group guests results in a generous buffet. I had this selection for dinner (fish, pork, lots of veg). Wine was free-flowing from taps, but not the best!

As soon as it was light this morning, I heard several cruise ships sounding their hooters as they left port. Apparently there are 80 ships in port at present, though most of them are bulk carriers.

The gardens are extensive as the hotel owns quite a lot of land.