Tangier, Morocco

January 17, 2020

Since Hector has gone back to the US for work, I decided to do a little excursion. This week I signed up for a day tour (Malaga a Pie €88) of Tangier, which is just across the Strait of Gibraltar on the Moroccan coast. At 5:45 am the tour bus picked me up downtown and at 10 am we were boarding the ferry at Tarifa, after having collected 30 more passengers at all the tourist towns along the way.

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Ferry to Tangier

45 minutes later, after landing in Tangier, passport stamped on the boat, we got on the bus and headed up the hill to the British quarter, obviously to see the best first. We drove through all the gorgeous parks and palaces on the hillside, then abruptly stopped at a parking lot for the obligatory camel ride. Non, merci.

Our guide spoke Spanish, English, French and German fluently, which was very impressive until it became clear that she intended to repeat every word in each language, since we were quite a mixed bag of tourists.  Once we got to the old city, the medina, we divided into smaller groups, fewer nationalities.

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Entrance to the Medina

The walk through the narrow streets of the medina was wonderful, although it lacked some of the thrill of danger that can be found in other old cities (see my post Marrakech). A young Moroccan vendor I chatted with, lazily selling key chains, told me we were the only tour in town that day so no one was very committed to doing the full show.

He took great pleasure in the poor old British ladies who were afraid of everything. He said the Chinese were that way too, terrified that one of them was about to steal their camera. As we headed toward the bus, my friend would scream “last chance, you’ll be sorry!” then have a good laugh.

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In the medina

Later, we went to a “Moroccan Spice Shop” which turned out to be a full-on old fashioned medicine show, with an adorable Moroccan man flirting with the ladies and kissing the bald heads of the men. “Ladies, you got lazy husband don’t give you jiggy jiggy? Give him two drops of this and 20 minutes later jiggy jiggy! Who has hemorrhoids? I have lotion for that!” And on and on. It was worth the cost of the whole tour. Everyone bought something, I bought two bottles of Arnica oil: “sore muscles and smooth skin, maybe hair on your head too!”

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Clear your sinuses. Permanently!

Back on the ferry, and very long ride home, dropping off all the Germans, French, Spanish, British, Canadians in Marbella, Estepona, Benalmadena, Fuengirola, Torremolinos, and the final stop at 9:30 pm, poor little American me in Malaga. Should have got that hemorrhoid lotion!

 

 

Kings Day!!

Jan 6, 2020…

Malagueños adore fiestas and holidays, or really any excuse to leave work and go out with friends. During the holidays, the cafes are jammed with big holiday lunches that go on for hours, followed by another hour outside smoking and saying goodbye. Construction projects come to a standstill for weeks, and shop opening hours become just a hypothesis. This is one of the reasons we love Malaga.

Additionally, they stretch out the holiday season an extra week, until the very pinnacle, Kings Day, Dia de Reyes on the 6th of January. We’ve experienced this celebration from the edges before but this year, with Kent and Bob in town, we decided to jump in with both feet.

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The Cavalcade

To fully appreciate the cavalcade, (their word) or parade, it’s best to secure good seats! At exactly noon on December 26, I was able to secure seats online in a prime section on the front row, and on the night of the parade, with the welcome input of every Malagueño within 50 yards, we found our seats.

I could go on and on about the costumes, the bands, the tons of candy thrown to the children (and us) from the floats but the very best part was when the mail carriers came marching in formation with their yellow mail carts and the crowd started cheering “cor-re-os! cor-re-os!” Then all the kids ran out with their letters to the kings, which the mail carriers put in their carts and then gave the kids candy. It was so adorable I could die just retelling it.

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Correos!

Like all parades it got a bit long, but we escaped the crowd quickly, only to hit the parade again on the other side of the downtown area on the way home.

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Next morning, everything was swept and washed, you never would have known 4 million pieces of candy had been thrown the night before.

 

Madrid

Dec 30, 2019…

Our buddies from Santa Fe, Kent and Bob, came to Spain for a visit so we took the train to Madrid to meet them at the airport. We all stayed overnight at the historic Palace Hotel (50k points per night), one of those grand, overblown hotels with a sumptuous lobby like in a 1930’s musical, but when you get off the elevator on your floor, it’s just ordinary hotel rooms. The breakfast however was a real treat. The lobby was a nonstop parade of nations.

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Palace Hotel

We attempted our standard whirlwind 24 hour tour of Madrid for the boys but of course they had jet lag and we didn’t. Additionally, there were so many holiday visitors in town it was almost impossible to see the hotspots. Parque Retiro was do-able and very lovely, as was Plaza Santa Ana, but we couldn’t get anywhere near the Plaza Sol, the heart of the city. Mercado San Miguel was no fucking way but we accomplished the highlights of the Prado Museum.  One new discovery: the fantastic rooftop bar at Círculo de Bellas Artes, which is a repurposed cultural center off the Gran Via. It costs about €4 cover charge but worth it for the view. Go at sunset if possible but it’s lovely at night as well.

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Rooftop Bar at Círculo de Bellas Artes

Then on to Malaga in the quiet car of the high speed train (tix at Renfe.com at about €75 each way). If it’s offered, you should always request the quiet car on a Spanish train. After we got settled I passed through 4 cars to get to the club car and it was like stepping from the public library into the midst of a hockey game. Kids were screaming, phones ringing, people laid out in the aisle; barking dogs would not have surprised me.

Christmas at Carligto

Dec 23…

This is our 3rd or 4th Christmas up at our friends’ house, the award-winning Cortijo el Carligto. A cortijo is a traditional Spanish country house, and they have become popular money makers as vacation homes in this part of Spain. Carligto is two large homes on one property and it’s a bit like a dream nestled at the top of a mountain, surrounded by olive groves and vineyards. Since Christmas is usually slow, we have been going up to spend a few days with our friends over the years. They are serious foodies and wine lovers so… are you with me here?

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Cortijo el Carligto

This is the 2nd year we hired a young couple to make dinner, so the four of us can just sit around getting shit faced in our pajamas on Christmas Day. David and Elena are Detako, a chef service based in Malaga. If you look at their food gallery photos you can see why, by the end of the meal, I would have gladly given up your first born child.

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I don’t even remember what this treasure was. 

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Christmas Day with Al, Marc, and Detako

After a few days, Al and Marc drove us and our enlarged livers back to Malaga.

Lisbon

December  20…

Lisbon has been on our travel list for a while and since it seems that most of our travel buddies have already been, well, need I say more? An easy (you’d think) nonstop from Malaga on TAP (Portugal Air, €151 rt each), we landed after delays and easily got a taxi to our hotel, the rather delightful Fontecruz (€185 or 40k points per night). It was raining and windy, very few pre-Christmas tourists: in other words, just the way we like it.

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Museum of Tile

I really didn’t have any idea what to expect but here’s what we found, in order of significance: fantastic seafood just about everywhere, friendly locals, reasonable prices, some gorgeous architecture, and a shitload of shoe stores. Leather is a big deal here. Also tiles. The best museum we visited was the National Tile Museum. Other worthy stops for a short visit were the Castelo St George with a wander through the Alfama District, the Convento de Carmo, and the neighborhood restaurant Marisqueria Ramiro. And Sintra. Let me say that again. Sintra. Take the train in the morning, spend the day wandering and you can come back to Lisbon that day. It’s a collection of small villages sprinkled through a mountainside with some of the most interesting and eccentric gardens and palaces. The pedicabs are cheap, or just climb. Stop at the teeny Lawrence Hotel for a coffee in the teeny lounge.

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Sintra

Our return to Malaga on TAP Air was so ridiculous with delays and obfuscations that I would rather just not talk about it.

Caña days

December 11, 2019…

The holiday is over now but these tourists are slow to go home. We, however, are settling in nicely to this month of perpetual self indulgence here in Malaga. After a 2 hr workout and steam at the GoFit Gym, we took the train to the local mall, Plaza Mayor, for a little retail workout. Hector bought a lovely work jacket and I bought a small back pack and a mustard yellow down jacket, which I do not need but for €40 I couldn’t afford not to get it. Shopping is fun in Spain because prices seem really good. You just have to get over the fact that 90% of the clothes are for thin little Spaniards, a point brought to our attention a few years ago when a shopkeeper told us apologetically that he only carries normal sizes.

Last night we met local friends Anna and Juan for wine and tapas at La Bougainvillea. Anna is a Polish artist and was in my Spanish class a few years ago here. She married a local Malagueño boy, Juan, and now they’re pregnant with a baby girl whom they have already named Laura! So I guess they are serious about this marriage thing.

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Roman Amphitheater, with the Alcazaba in the background

Next day: noticeably quieter in town. Sunny weather is perfect for an afternoon caña (little beer) in front of the Teatro Romano. We depart on Sunday for 5 days in Lisbon, with showers predicted. See, I told you I need that yellow jacket.

 

Finally we’re here.

December 7, 2019

Gracious. At last we are in Malaga. After a busy, snowy Thanksgiving week with our Santa Fe homies + niece Vanessa + bf Adam, we lit out for a 24 hr turnaround in New York. We checked into our favorite, the Lexington (no upgrade alas), where we promptly went to sleep for 12 hours. Next day, we met nephew Carlos for a long lunch at Parker and Quinn, then back to the hotel to grab our shit and head to JFK to catch our 10 pm departure to London.

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Carlos and me posing at Grand Central Station

Weather delays out of JFK meant we missed the only London Gatwick connection to Malaga so British Airways put us up at the Gatwick Premier Inn for an actually rather enjoyable 24 hours and gave us 3 meals. The room was tiny, the food was not bad; it was a bit like a minimum security prison since there was absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to see. We mostly slept and watched British auction programs on TV.

Arrived in Malaga to find that the water heater in our rented apt exploded so the owners put us up at the Hotel Larios for a night of yet another 12 hours of sleep. Today, we are moved in, gleefully well-rested, ready for some wine-drinking people-watching. Malaga is bursting at the seams for their puente, a 4 day, Friday-Monday holiday in which dining and spending is at a fever pitch.  We really need to buy a flat here… we could use some of this tourism money.

Vallarta in July

July 2019…

We always claim to have such a good time in Puerto Vallarta, but really this time might have been the best ever. And I promise it’s not because none of you visited us there this year, it was just a coincidence that we didn’t see anyone we knew, except for a few locals. We had perfect weather, empty restaurants, and we visited some places we had not been before. Our friends’ home, Casa Faro, was a delight as always.

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In Sayulita

Sayulita is a cute little former fishing village north of Vallarta. It has become a biiiig weekend getaway for locals so there’s plenty of picturesque cafes, bars, surfers, dogs. Parking is a real crap shoot on Sundays so go early.

San Sebastián is a bit farther afield but still north of Vallarta, tucked in the mountains. It’s very colonial and because of the altitude it feels like you’re in a little Alpine village. It was graduation day when we went so all the kids were dressed up in school outfits like little Von Trapps. Adorable.

Punta Mita. Well, we drove right past the busy town, again north of Vallarta, to visit one of the secluded hotels located on the Point. God only knows who paid whom what for this little heavenly corner of the bay but there’s about 5 or 6 resorts there and you can’t even drive in without passing a Checkpoint Charlie with your name on a list. We stayed a few nights at the really lovely St Regis Punta Mita (200k points for 3 nights.)

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St Regis Punta Mita

London

May 2019…

For Hector’s birthday this year, we decided to return to London. We used to make it a point to go at least once a year because it’s Hector’s favorite city. Plus, it was an easy two or three days on the way somewhere else. It just got so expensive, our ragged American dollars go so much further just about anywhere else, but we decided to go reconnect with my nephew Pollard, wife Mush, kids Elu and Takoda (Pollard is a musician.)

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Pollard and fam are just delightful, the kids are adorable, even though everyone says that. But really, yours aren’t and mine are.

Also, our passport posse Tere and Martin wanted to meet up there so we got a lot of partying under our belts. With Tere and Martin we walked all over, they are always very adventurous so we saw a lot of areas we had not seen before. Went to see a production of The Starry Messenger with Matthew Broderick and Elizabeth McGovern bored to death in it, stayed at the Marriott County Hall (5 nights 200k points), just across the Thames from Parliament. Tate Modern, Serpentine Gallery, Hampton Court, Tower of London, Highgate Cemetery, Epping Forest, tra la.

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The Passport Posse at London’s self-proclaimed oldest pub, Ye Olde Mitre

Oh, at last!

December 2018…

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Iberia Lounge

Well, it was a pretty easy flight JFK to Madrid. Grabbed a couple of hours in the comfortable Iberia lounge at the glorious Madrid Barajas airport, then squeezed into the little jet to Malaga. That’s only about an hour trip and voila! here we are. Suitcases from arrivals, taxi out front, and we were in our new apartment one hour after we landed. We were met by the owners, Gary and Ralph, two Brits who seem to have quite a nice business with a few properties around here. They’re on VRBO here.

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San Felipe Neri

This is a new neighborhood for us and we both love it: San Felipe Neri, named, of course, for the small church right across the street. It’s a ten minute walk to heart of the city and all our favorites were awaiting us with open arms. Cafes, churches, bars, and beggars. I’m already re-acquainting my ears to Malaga Spanish. To recreate this distinctive sound, try this experiment: fill your mouth with marbles and recite your favorite poem as quickly as you can.