We were only in port for a few hours- just long enough to walk into the city from the ship and take a walk around. Although the middle of September and a Sunday morning, the beaches were beginning to fill up, illustrating the power of one of the warmest city in Europe. Apparently summer lasts 8 months out of the year and it can still reach 68-70 degrees during the other four months. Malaga is one of the oldest cities in the world, having been founded 2,800 years ago.
Along the harbor is a park filled with flowers and fountains.
Beautiful outdoor rooms serve as a peaceful place to read and think.
I loved the play of light on the water.
As you walk from the park into the main city, the morning light disappears in the valley of the old buildings. They were spraying the tiles with water and it made it very slippery to walk. It’s now January in northern Wisconsin, perhaps the practice will help me on the ice. (If you mentally pointed out that it’s January everywhere, you might be a smart ass. If you yelled it at your computer, you might need help.)
Church was in session.
The one place I wanted to go was the Picasso Museum, but we decided to keep walking around when we couldn’t find it. We weren’t sure if it was open on a Sunday morning. This is all we saw of Picasso.
During our walk, we veered off the normal path and found some wonderful textures and colors.
Sometimes when turning down a “dark alley” one can find light (or at least light beer). Normally the explorer of the two, I nixed my husband’s idea of skirting around a fence and making it back to the ship via an old blocked trail.
As our final port before disembarking in Savona, Italy, we watch Malaga fade away from the top deck.