From the cathedral, I ran into the Cambridge Couple but still hadn’t seen The Kids. Came across the Picasso Museum, waited in another queue (but not nearly as long as in Heathrow’s Immigration), and had a humorous hour and a half wandering through Picasso’s nutty life. Funny guy.
Outside again, the weather was sunny and warm. Almost passed by an ice cream stand but stopped in time to pick up a tiramisu and coffee double cone eating it on the way to somewhere.
The “somewhere” was a plaza where they were setting up for some event. I sat and rested from the walking throughout the 3 floors of the museum, and wondered what to do next. Took a couple of photos of the large Picasso mural on the wall nearby and the exterior of the yellow trim apartment building where he grew up. Malaga seems to be cashing in on Picasso’s fame as once he was old enough, he left Malaga never to return except for one brief visit.
As I rounded a corner, there was the Alcazabar on the hill nearby. I found the entrance after asking a nice British couple to take my photo in front of the ruins, and made the slow trek up the hill to the fort. Entry fees were only €.60 as a Senior, which was awesome.
Took photos as I crawled up to this massive fortress, sometimes waiting a few minutes for tourists to get out of the frame of the photo I was trying to take. Made it to the gardens, turned around, and there were The Kids. They had just arrived and apparently had overslept but did get to the bus station to buy our tickets for the next day’s 11 a.m. bus ride to Granada. Jordan was so happy to see me it was like it had been months and not just a few hours since we had last seen each other. We continued our trek up the several tiers of this gorgeous fort having fun with some of the photos we took.
Christopher and Kelly wanted to take the big hike to the upper regions of the fort which, although the views would be magnificent, did not enthuse me in the least. So Jordan and I went down to the outdoor cafe below and while she had chocolate ice cream, I had a glass of wine. It was at least 4p.m. by now. The Cambridge couple stopped by and since they had to leave early for The Rock (Gibraltar) the next morning, and after hearing a free breakfast wasn’t included in our room coast as it was there’s, Terry gave me their last name and room number telling me to feel free to use that for our breakfast the next morning. Very sweet of them.
From there Jordan and I walked back to the hotel stopping at a bright red playground near the harbor along the way. There was a little 1 1/2 year old girl, with her grandmother, struggling to get to the slide. The baby was dressed in a red thick fabric dress with black tights and maryjane shoes looking as Spanish as I would imagine a Spanish baby to look. I helped the grandmother get her granddaughter down the wavy slide and we did our best communicating with the language barrier. There really is very little barrier if you let humor into the picture.
After a brief rest in the hotel room, the adult kids returned, and we all crossed the street for dinner in a funky little corner deli with a slightly Arabesque feel to it. We were the only customers in the 2 hours we were there (uh oh), although a toothless goofy guy came in briefly to chat with the owners and tell us (in broken English) pointing out that the plastic bird in the birdcage was the real bird’s “girlfriend”, which now, of course, explained why the bird was humping the plastic one. (WTH?)
Kelly and I had chicken in a pita pocket which, after some trepidation, we found to be very tasty with the sauce it included. The highlight of dinner, however, was not the food or wine, but the entertainment.
On top of one of the high shelves was a birdcage which held the small parrot. When Jordan and I started paying attention to it, the woman who owned the place took the bird out. It flew around landing on our heads, fingers, shoulders, and Jordan was enthralled following the little guy around with a toothpick that the bird had no intention of mounting. This was better than watching a newly run kid’s movie. The owner was a crackup with her antics around this bird. Her closing act was showing us how she could put the poor bird’s head in her mouth and then pretending to chomp down.
Hope that really was chicken in that delicious sauce…