So with very broken Spanish and thankfully enough credit on my mobile, I got a hold of the after house service at our car rental and waited patiently (and by patiently, I mean on the verge of tears from sheer exhaustion) for shuttle service. Once we had gotten our car, we put in our GPS coordinates and I shifted the car into gear…for the first time in eight months. Nina was scared for her life as I yelled at the GPS for making me get on the freeway and at the passing cars that couldn’t understand why 100 km/hr seemed like a ludicrous speed. But we made it in one piece and thankfully found a parking spot (which almost had to be reversed into and in my current state, I was unable to figure out that you had to pull/push at the same time in order to shift into it.)
So at two in the morning we rang the bell of our quaint little hostel to be greeted by the camel-faced (and I mean that in the most adorable way possible) Sam who insisted on giving us a tour and an explanation of the hostels workings even though I wasn’t processing anything he said and Nina was swaying a little, close to falling asleep while standing…backpack and all.
But the next day, we slept in as late as we wanted, got our free coffee and breakfast and headed literally just across the street and onto the beach to increase our Vitamin D levels for the day. After immediately making friends with several of the current hostel visitors, we made plans and drinks together for the night of the Festival of San Juan…of the bonfire jumping/ocean diving/beach spectacular that was about to take place upon sundown. Discovering cheap boxed sangria, and a love for the game of “Spoons” made it easy to get into the party mood and soon we headed down to the Mediterranean to enjoy the new friends, hot fire, and the start of the end of summer. And it was fantastic.
The next morning we woke up with no plans except to once again enjoy the sun. And we succeeded. Of course we also made friends with the hostel owners, one being Jorge...
An adorable grandpa with a passion for creating new shots, making paella, and cheering for the Spanish Soccer team…all three of which were experienced the next night. Now those of you who know the results of the World Cup can understand my need to not cheer for Spain ever again, but at the time, they were not against the Orange, and it was fun to cheer for the home team…
It was also Flavio, another hostel worker’s birthday so during half time we enjoyed yummy chocolate cake. Plus a dip into the ocean at around two in the morning. Because we were on the beach and the water was nice and really what other reason do you need?
We did finally manage to check out the actually city of Malaga as seven girls from London, Australia, and the US went on a search to curb the incredible craving for a very authentic Spanish food…the Big Mac. No seriously…
However we did also get to stop at the Malagan Picasso Museum which, in my opinion, far surpassed the Barcelona one. It was filled with much more of the “Picasso” painting if you know what I mean…arm when the ear should go, triangle boobs, etc. And there was a special exhibition on "Picasso's horses" and the importance the animal played in many of his paintings.
On our way back to the hostel we stopped into a pub to watch Germany kicked England’s butt in the semi’s. I had no urging need for either to win but I found the British boys surrounding me hilarious as they yelled at the TV for the entire two hours…even half time.
The worst part was having to leave around 3 in the morning and then sort of sleep a little at the airport waiting for our plane, but instead eating M&Ms, almost losing our passports after almost leaving them in a bathroom stall, skillfully passing my 15kilo backpackers pack for a 10 kilo carry on, while slowly going crazy from lack of sleep then finally getting into Noordwijk with plans for a quick nap and then watching the Netherlands game, but instead sleeping for six hours, waking up, having dinner, and falling back to sleep for the rest of the night.
We made a couple treks to other cities which I'll tell you all about tomorrow. Although we went because we had a car and it would have been a waste not to use it. However we both wish we could have just laid on the beach for the entire week. Malaga was truly a wonderful and much needed break for both my sister and I. The hostel was incredible and I can’t wait to go back for some more rest and relaxation.
(View from our room)
Word of the day: playa - beach (Spanish)