Malaga

Due to recent gastrointestinal events I’ve not blogged about Malaga so here is the delayed story.

We’d arranged to meet Roy and Carolynn, who live near Malaga, outside the Cathedral at 11.00am. For non Manchester blog followers Roy is a Round Table/41 Club friend who decided some time ago that living on a golf course in Spain was a lot more fun than owning an IT company in Manchester. The ship was late because of a diversion to drop off a sick passenger (I wonder how much that cost) and so we found them sitting in a cafe opposite the Cathedral round about noon.

The original plan had been to see some sights (well one probably) before we started drinking but Roy obviously thought he’d done enough culture after staring at the Cathedral for an hour so, without wasting any more time, we set off on a Tapas crawl.

We drank and ate our way though six bars during the course of the afternoon although Roy did have a coffee in one because he was driving. I discovered that Malaga wine is very similar to sweet sherry and that, if you drink enough of it, you can eat things you are glad you don’t recognise.

The most memorable bar, after the crypt with the cross of flowers, was the derelict (but in a nice way) police station. Here, in front of rows of barrels, the bartenders chalked up your bill on the old wooden top of the bar. Here too a cheap night’s drinking was available to anyone with a duster, chalk and the ability to write Spanish upside down.

Belatedly, could I thank Roy and Carolynn for being our hosts and guides for the day. Local knowledge is so important when you visit an historic city.

Dave C.