cobilingual

I went back to Málaga for another weekend. I wasn’t that excited about going back to somewhere I’d been before, given I’m only in Spain for a couple of months and want to see as much as possible, but my friend Sarah could get a cheap flight from Madrid to Málaga, and it’s not that far from Seville so is pretty convenient for a weekend destination.Graham and I drove down to Málaga on Saturday afternoon after a relaxing morning in Seville, in which I turned in the keys to my apartment and Graham got a haircut at the peluqueria of Mr Spain, or so the sign claimed. I went into the RENFE office in the centre of Seville, where I was able to buy in advance my train ticket back from Málaga to Seville for the following Monday, when Ian was due back in Spain, post-Chilean adventure. Ian and I had spent hours lining up for our last-minute train tickets at various stations, so being able to just walk in and buy my ticket seemed like something of a minor miracle. Hence a lesson: pre-purchase your high-speed train tickets in Spain, you’ll save time buying as well as travelling.

When we eventually hit the road to Málaga we had another transport miracle, in that we didn’t take a wrong turn the whole way. We cruised into the port city pleasantly surprised by how laid back and relaxing our travel day had been. We landed a great park right next to the Alzacar, then stumbled upon a secondary tourist office that was empty despite being a Saturday, where we stocked up on maps. Then we happened upon a particular Irish pub which was serendipitous for reasons too complex to go into here.

It seemed Sarah had sacrificed her daily luck allocation to us, because she missed her flight. After a few panicky text messages we resigned to meeting her at about 10pm, when her bus arrived from Madrid. Graham and I contemplated the irony of our pleasant trip to Málaga, planned around Sarah’s ill-fated flight, over afternoon beers and then dinner. We had the most succulent bull meat I’ve ever tasted, with a dark and complex bottle of red wine that, while heavy on its own, was the perfect red meat compliment.

Needless to say, by the time Sarah arrived I was smashed, and she needed some drinks to get over her ordeal.

I would tell you what happened after that but I can’t remember so much… same with the rest of the weekend.