It’s got windsurfing.
Hiking trails that stop off at a point where if you look down, you see the whole of the city. And there it is. The Plaza de Toros- my first bullfight. We listen to the crowd jeering. I try to understand the dance.
There’s English, if you want it.
Fresh fish cooking on makeshift boat grills.
A great Italian restaurant hidden in the hills that serves the best chilled wine and has a house singer who will sing the song from Grease right alongside Spanish ballads. We sing like we’re the only ones in the room.
An international festival, where as you stroll past all the market booths, you start to feel a stir in the air. Then you smell it. Empanadas and sizzling churizo sausage and sweet dulce leche. We stop and drink Moroccan tea from little gold cups.
It’s a woman singing opera in the middle of Plaza de Constitution.
A boardwalk that stretches down the beach streaming with little cafes, sunbathers and runners.
Shopping.
It’s a halfway between the Costa del Sol and all its many tourists while still maintaining its authenticity.
If nothing else, it’s a day at the beach under the Spanish sun.
Malaga.
