málaga

Hostels are interesting creatures. I’ve never seen a place where such an odd assortment of humanity gathers and decides immediately that it’s ok to sleep together. And share a bathroom. I was greeted in the lobby by the noise of a DVD being viewed on the wall over the bar. After check-in I was taken to my dorm where I met one of my roommates. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jeff. That corner might be the best bet for your stuff. I don’t know whose all this is—I haven’t seen them yet.” The bathroom, the kitchen, my bunk, the noisy table of youngsters downstairs. I even got a glimpse of the terrace upstairs—too bad it was a wet night. But such people! I tried to go to a Flamenco show with Jeff and three others, but nobody was at the bar. After that, I took a walk around the city, looking for something interesting and finding nothing but closed shops and snooty clubs.

Coming back into the hostel, I met a 50-something woman, an American citizen living in Ireland. I don’t even think I introduced myself, but suddenly I was being regaled with the story of her trip to Spain to recover from a month’s bout with the flu that became pneumonia. She only paused long enough every several minutes to light up another cigarette, and used these opportunities to ask me about my travels. Hearing that I’m a WWOOFer, she suggested Ireland, a farm of one of her friends in particular. It might be a worthwhile tip, I don’t know. The place sounded pretty neat; organic, sustainable, with an added spritz of Celtic spirituality. She also told me some more about couch surfing. She’s a big fan, and knows all about it, having surfed herself and also hosted 30 people since August. She even offered to vouch for me should I join, to help get me started.

And that was last night. Today was spent exploring some of Málaga’s historic features. Most of this place is a big, gross city. Apparently, it’s been a big, gross city for some time. Possibly founded by the Phoenicians, Málaga was a prime port city of Islamic Spain and a large fortress and castle were built on a hill in the center on the coast to provide defense. Even in the 16th Century a great wall surrounded most of the city.


The Alcazaba and Castillo de Gibralfaro are the two major historic sites and were built by the city’s Muslim rulers in the 11th and 8th Centuries, respectively. Next to the Alcazaba is a Roman amphitheater that is currently being excavated and restored.


For a low combined price, I was able to tour both. The Alcazaba lies over the base of a hill and was built to the contours of it. This provided extra defense with winding roads in and slanted, hairpin gateways. Within the fort a palace was also built, featuring courtyards with fountains and gardens. The wall surrounding the fort offers some amazing lookouts over the city and its bustling port.
Within some of the palace’s courtyards are exhibits of old Muslim pottery, explaining the construction, glazing, and firing techniques. There was even a giant kiln found that was used for firing the works that were found in the fort. The Alcazaba and Castillo de Gibralfaro are connected by a long, walled avenue that stretches up the hill, but oddly enough is not open to the public, so…


…One must climb a long, winding, and sometimes steep stone path to the top of the hill. Here, you can wander the mostly-empty courtyard of the castle, but the more interesting path is at the top of the perimeter wall. Here, you get great views of the whole city, the port, the interior of the Alcazaba and the interior of the castle
itself. After I climbed back down and saw what there was within the walls, I made my way back to my hostel to check out and head to Granada. Too bad there wasn’t time for the Picasso Museum. Málaga boasts as the birthplace of the famous artist and has an extensive collection on display here. Oh well, I’m not that big a fan of cubism, anyway.