Precisely one year ago I had an interesting evening in Portsmouth.

What should have been a routine shore excursion to Wetherspoons (don’t ask) rapidly devolved into an extended tour of behind the shipyard and random parts unknown. After acquainting myself with the backsides of naval barracks and being told by a local to catch a taxi back to the shipyard. I had an epiphany, English Naval Superiority was all about sailors wanting to get as far away from Portsmouth as possible. My copilot at the time was my new travelling Companion from Istanbul. S.

Fast forward a year I found myself in a new city with S and this is what we found.

Malaga is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. 2800 years, The Phoenicians were first naming it Malaka, not to be mistaken with the Greek Malakas which can mean all sorts of things, some charitable and some not so. Carthage was next, and then the Romans came and fell. Vizigothic and Byzantine empires both left a mark before Islamic rule painted a new coat.

Luckily S had been here a month earlier so getting lost should not have been part of the equation. Sunday is a traditional market day here a lot of stalls popped up with arts and crafts made locally. There was also a large book fair across the park which meets the marina.

The first photo-worthy thing I found was this.

Roman era Amphitheatre with Moorish Castle Alcazaba behind.

The central city of Malaga is very small. The beautiful murals and slate-tiled streets reminded me of happy times in Valencia.

There are some impressive Cathedrals as one would expect in España.

It was just down from this one we sat on a park bench and listened to the bells toll 11. Maths has never been a strong point for me but for the life of me I could not divine 11 from the cacophony. I dutifully waited for the bells to stop so I could stand up in silence. Sadly an errant bell spoilt the effect.

From here we strolled through the rapidly opening eateries to the central river which meets the sea. It is here you will find this amazing mural.

Feeling a bit peckish we headed back towards the numerous eateries that can be found. Fun fact, Malaga is the home of Antonio Banderas.

Name drop. I met Antonio Banderas back in 2015. He is very charming and very short. His voice made me wanted to pat his head, just like this fellow.

Following some waffles and pancakes we then embarked on some theraputic shopping. There were some cat cushions spied. New Zealand I am warning you now. Cat cusions are inevitable. I do beleive we did get lost at some point here. It was not lost in a Portsmouth fashion but there were a couple of big smiles when we discovered we did not know where we were.

Malaga is also the birthplace of Pablo Picasso, so there are some nice museums and plenty of Picasso themed souveniers. I settled on some fridge magnets and t-shirts for my son. We walked through one of Antonios restaurants El Pimpi which joins two streets. It deserves a sit down, I could not hear any bells which is a good sign.

With about 11k steps logged it was time to siesta. I really do enjoy España.