Winter 2022

December 2022

After returning from Mexico on October 1 we moved back into our apartment on Calle Ollerias in Malaga. This entailed renting a van, loading our boxes at the storage space where they’d been languishing for 2 months (Spain loves storage facilities as much as Americans), then hauling it all up to the top floor in the elevator the approximate size of a coffin, proving yet again that you never get too old to move your own shit around. Fortunately we have a parking space in the building’s garage.

At the end of October we spent a long weekend in the always-entertaining city of Palma, Mallorca. We visited last year for a very fun getaway right after lockdown (see my previous post Mallorca.) Palma is a magnet for the Instagram weekenders, due to its glamor quotient, but it is also home to about 400,000 residents, one of whom is our friend Birgitta. And lucky us, she invited us to her birthday party. The invitation had descriptors like dancing, yacht, cocktails; the kinds of things that get our attention. Easy direct flight on Vueling Air. One short diversion, in the Malaga airport I forgot how old I am and ducked under one of those retracting bands designed to keep stupid people from wandering around and hurting themselves, and I’m sure I don’t need to say it… I tripped over my rolling suitcase and landed hard on my right knee. And now I can admit my greatest theatrical role has been acting as if: 1. it didn’t happen, 2. it wasn’t excruciating.

Like most of this part of the world Mallorca has a very busy history. It sits in the Mediterranean between Spain and Sardinia, sort of south of Barcelona: hard for marauders to miss it. Not counting some humans living here as far back as 3000 BCE, Mallorca was claimed by the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, the Moorish Caliphate of Cordoba, James I of Aragon, then the Bourbons, leading up to the brutal and unexpected occupation by the Tourists. If Santa Barbara and Monte Carlo had a baby it would be named Palma and it’s always ready to pose for a selfie.

We stayed at the Hotel Hostal Cuba, a small boutique hotel in the beautiful city center, not far from the bay. On Friday evening we taxied over to the Portixol Hotel for drinks, dinner and meeting all Birgitta’s glamorous friends. All the Swedes were thin, gorgeous and successful, and we had a fun, gossipy time at our table. After many loving speeches in Birgitta’s honor, there was dancing, except for those sitting in the corner due to foolish mistakes earlier in the day.

Next day, sun blazing, we strolled to the pier to catch the ship, the Falcau Uno, taking us out to the bay for swimming, lunching, more dancing to live music. Palma Bay is very picturesque, very calm for the hungover, and very entertaining with all the movie stars and trillionaires swooping past on their superyachts. Back to the hotel for a rest, then late cocktails in the lounge at our hotel with farewells to our new friends and Birgitta’s family. Next day, early departure, back home to Malaga and more of this tiresome sunshine every day.

November brought visits from California friends and it was perfect weather for showing off the city. Warm breezes, full sidewalk cafes, beaches still loaded with hearty (Nordic) tourists. Late in November the Christmas decorations started going up and the locals, including us, got a spring in our steps. Everyone went home to pull out their winter sweaters even though it’s still in the 70’s.

Last year we had planned to make a visit to Brussels but covid complicated things so we decided to go this year, to see the Christmas Markets. We arrived on December 1, direct on Brussels Air, and checked into the Dominican Hotel, not too far from the Grand Place and historic center. Brussels is the seat of the EU government so it has that bureaucratic look and lots of official-looking people bustling around all the gorgeous plazas. But also lots and lots of tourists, especially during Christmas Market season.

The Ramirez-Berrier standard survey of nationalities found the graph to be heavy with Spanish speakers so qué va! for that. Starting in early afternoon, the historic center is packed, with the Grand Place being the heart of it all, and no wonder, since it is very imposing, very much a fairy tale locale. It’s easy to imagine crowds of medieval peasants huddled in the center. In the 16th century there were a lot of burnings and beheadings here, so a free treat for the kiddies.

We did our own fair share of selfie-taking and stumbled into a charming shopping gallery nearby, the Galerias Sant Hubert, a great spot to escape the freezing temps and have a coffee or, more likely, several large Belgian beers. The actual Christmas Markets were a bit subdued, sprinkled around numerous construction sites. But they had all the festive offerings: hot wine, sausages, and local crafts.

We had a good time with some of Hector’s Up With People buddies from many years ago. Travel is always always better when you know fun locals. We also took an early train over to Bruges for the day, an easy trip I highly recommend because it is an unbelievably gorgeous little city. We were here about 20 years ago and it hasn’t lost its charm at all. We wandered through the canals, the many boutiques and had a great lunch before returning to Brussels.

Back in Malaga, finally warm again. Coming up, a return to Istanbul for Christmas week. Stay tuned!