Malaga, Andalucia, Spain

Alcazaba de Malaga

We couldn't contain ourselves, like returning to a secret lover, we were off again this weekend to see the beautiful Andalucia! To us, there's nothing more enticing or enthralling than Spain's ancient southern cities.

Andalucia has it all, gorgeous snow-capped mountains, golden sandy deserts, hectares of seasoned olive groves, private secluded white Mediterranean beaches and historic centres rich in medieval Arab architecture. 

It's the paramour of sun kissed daydreams, the birth place of flamenco, bull fighting, sangria, siestas and where time runs so slow it has almost stopped. 

Right choice- but this plane seems small

Malaga, the largest city along the enchanting southern Costa del Sol insinuates a warmth and excitement. Her alluring narrow pedestrian streets are lined with orange trees and hollowing sounds of flamenco that pour late into the night from the hundreds of restaurants and bars within the historic centre.

Before we booked our flights, weeks ago we looked carefully at the mixed reviews about Malaga. Not as famous as the larger cities but certainly in its own right a respectable port town and thriving hub of entertainment. Famed for its rich history, delicious cuisine, outstanding local wines and as the birth place of Picasso. We purchased our tickets and then on Friday as our plane flew down and we saw the blue ocean and villages of white houses we couldn't help but feel we'd made the right choice.

Cathedral de Malaga

It was the perfect mid November getaway destination. Where the sun still lingered into the late afternoon as if promising it would stay forever, teasing and coaxing us to believe winter's still far away. 

As we walked to our hotel along the waterfront, that warm Friday evening the calm ocean sea, lapped up against the harbour where restaurants' lights shone over the dark water. We followed the pedestrianised streets brimming, if not heaving with evening activity. 

The city is a maze of interwoven alleyways and we were staying in the heart of it.

Archicofradia de la Espranza

The first thing we did after dropping off our bags was to head out and sample our favourite Andalucian food! And thus begin one of our most enjoyable Spanish tapa experiences to date. It was the Ruta Exquisita Victoria, a fusion of modern and traditional Malagueña food! 

The route encompassed twenty five small restaurants and bars within the small historic centre that each offered a special individual 'gastronomical delights'. 

Sponsored by Victoria Malaga (est. 1928) each tapa was served alongside a quinto (small beer). We tried delicious exotic combinations of pastry coated pork pie drizzled in wild red fruits, chunky duck pâté on toasted bread mixed with fine herbs and coated in bittersweet pineapple foam. Sausage of Malaga hand mixed with field mushroom and green pesto.

Tartar de salchichon de Malaga

Antonia Mari tapa

They were all so scrumptious!! 

As we moved between each restaurant and tapa bar we explored the historic centre, turning down the dark lanes, intrigued by a marble carved facade, a oak wood door or pulled just by the colour alone of the many historic buildings built during Malaga's golden age. Lit by yellow street lamps the centre was charming, alive with the beat of punters and musicians singing together around Plaza de la Constitution. 

Plaza de Siglo

Plaza Carbon

Traipsing through the ancient historic streets enjoying modern restaurants it's easy to forget that Malaga is one of the oldest cities in the world. 

Iglesia del Sagrado Corazon

Founded over 2,800 years ago it has seen prominent rulers come and go. The Phoenicians who first settled in the area lived and traded prosperously. The Carthaginians, Romans, Visgoths and then again the Roman Byzantine Empire conquered, ruled and fell. 

The 8th century saw the arrival of the Arabic Caliphates, their dynasties grew flourished and transformed the city into a noble capital. They too fell during the Spanish conquesta in 1487 and the entire population who so forcefully resisted was sold into slavery. 

That evening we walked back to the hotel past the medieval Cathedral de Malaga (Santa Iglesia Catedral Basilica de la Encarnacion). Located in the city's epicentre the unfinished fifteenth century gothic masterpiece lay strikingly against the dark night sky. We were already infatuated by the Mediterranean city, and not even the restless broken sleep that evening, as parties raged into the early hours, could elude us from returning to her streets the next morning.

On our way to the Renfe

Breakfast, a light affair, was followed by our adventure to Ronda (click here to be redirected to our Ronda blog). It was later that evening that we found ourselves again on Malaga's beautiful streets. From the Renfe train station we walked to the port area admiring its attractive Ferris wheel. Down the Paseo de los Curas to the hippy new port markets, world class bars and restaurants.

Abduction at the Paseo de los Curas

Malaga ferris wheel

Malaga Ports

Still not really having made a big dent in our Ruta Exquosita we were soon chowing on the oddly named (and translated) sweet secret of marriage. A wonderful crumb incased blue cheese and pork croqueta, skewered into creamed potato and sautéed with a reduction of the local sweet wine. Next up we tried a simple tallerine pasta with tomato sauce, mozzarella and fine Parmesan. However the favourite that evening was the eggplant, soft goat cheese and caramelised onion empanado.

Eggplant empanado 

Dulce matrimonio secreto

We walked around the city as if time didn't exist. We explored the seafood stands at central market, listening to Jazz musicians. We walked past Plaza de la Mercad where young Spanish students sat outside sharing pizza from cardboard boxes. We walked past gelato shops lined with families waiting for a cool treat. The night went on, it was warm and the city hummed.

Playa de la Malagueta

Sunday morning started late. Cruise boats of English tourists were already crowding the streets looking for lunch when we ventured out for breakfast. 

We had a lot of sights to see so after a double cafe con leche we set off. Parading down the central shopping promenade, Calle Larios. 




First stop was the beach, although there is a coastline of beaches we decided to walk to the closest, Playa de la Malagueta. 

Walking to the beach

Lined with palms it was lovely, not spectacular but nice for a city beach. It was a bit chilly when we got there, the wind having picked up so we continued on. The next stop on our agenda was the 11th century Gibralfaro castle. High on the foothills of Montes de Malaga the fortified castle overlooks the city, port and peninsula. We took a left turn from the coast and took the long route up, slowly winding up the hill just chatting with each other and looking at the nice homes.

As we walked Kara read from her phone. "The castle was built waaaaaay back in 929AD by Abd-al-Rahman III the ruling Caliph of Cordoba on a former, get this, Phoenician enclose and wait for it, ancient light house! It was later enlarged by the Sultan of Granada at the beginning of the 14th century." 

Looking down on La Malageuta 

Shortly after we realised that we were actually walking down again. We were on the wrong road. We turned on the GPS and made a scramble over an embankment through a forest hiking track before proudly coming out at the end of the entrance car park. 

By then, the sun which had reappeared from behind the clouds had been beating down on us for an hour. 




We took a quick rest at a south-facing lookout, wet wiped, and went into the castle (which we were surprised to find had free entry - bonus). Inside there actually isn't a lot too see in terms of buildings. But the walls have been nicely restored so we zig-zagged up the many stone steps, down again and around. There was a good view of the La Malagueta (bull ring) and along the stunning south west coastline. 

John exploring the wall

Fortified walls

Kara admiring the view

Flags of Andalucia and Spain

After thirty minutes we felt we had seen enough so paved our way down the Coracha ridge towards the city's Alcazaba. The city's moorish castle built underneath the Gibralfaro is believed to be the best preserved of its kind. Constructed on old fortified Roman ruins the Alcazaba was built during the reign of Abd-al-Rahman I, around 756-780AD as a defence against pirates. It was rebuilt by Sultan Badis Al-Ziri in 1063AD. Much older than its neighbours, the Alhambra of Granada and Alcazar of Sevilla (it was already centuries old when they were built) it felt smaller and it was evident that quite a lot of work had gone into restoring the buildings.

Cuartos de Granada patio

Andalucian gardens

Islamic arches

Cuartos de Granada patio

Alcazaba Entrance 

Our last tapa was at the famous institution of El Pimpi. Inside an old 18th century mansion and one of Malaga's longest-standing bars we tried something called the Yogurt Malagueño. A strange layered combination of preserved goat meat, the pride of Malaga goat cheese, virgin marmalade mixed with kumera and sprinkled with carrot. It was quite unusual and flavour wise would be something you'd really want to eat only one time. 

El Rescoldo

Yogurt Malagueno

Restored Teatro Romano

From there our last stop was the Teatro Romano. 

An ancient Roman theatre at the foot of the Alcazaba fortress that had been uncovered in 1951. First built during the first century by Emperor Augustus it was used until the third century and indicates the importance of Malaga during the Roman era.

Orange trees in front of the Cathedral

Later during the Moorish reign, stones where taken to build fountains for the Alcazaba making the current restoration process lengthy and difficult. 

By the time we returned to the hotel and rested it was already night fall. We ventured out for our last meal. Hitting the streets with the weariness of an enviable sad departure. 

We ate a delicious treat of our favourite Andalucian cuisine accompanied by local wine. To early to retire we walked hand in hand past the Calle Lario, the grand Cathedral pointing out the things we liked most. 

Southern Spain has our hearts, and as we bid a teary goodbye it is hasta la vista mi amor, until next time my love.

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Ronda, Andalusia, Spain

Let's go get lost in Ronda

Sometimes, (big sigh) things don't work out the way you imagine them. With traveling we always hope things run smoothly but today was one of those days, where our expectations collided head on with, well, the impenetrable Spanish culture. It wasn't a bad day but nor was it surprising after a year in Spain that at 11am on a Saturday morning we found ourselves sitting in the dark, in a tunnel, on a train, in the middle of Malaga province. 

Just sitting there, wondering many things. Wondering why we were there, why the train has stopped, why no one else was really bothered? The irony of it, we had raced around the night before and had been promised the fastest route to Ronda by the smirky woman at the Renfe station. When the ticket collector eventually walked through the dark carriage, our active imaginations were beginning to think we were probably being held up by Spanish outlaws (so give or take about fifteen minutes later).

He cheerily said (in Spanish hahahaha) "we're lost we don't know where we are". Ohh that Spanish humor, what a boost of confidence. The dry blank looks our faces reflected were thankfully hidden by the darkness. It took us another twenty minutes to move from the tunnel and then another fifteen minutes at the next stop while they fixed the train. By the time we made it to the ancient city of Ronda we were almost an hour late and worse, hangry. 

White streets of Ronda

Starting a trip hangry is, in our experience, asking for trouble. From the train station we marched, now seriously time poor, towards Ronda's historic centre. Our normal positive outlook clouded by our falling blood sugar and our noses twisted up in frowns. Sadly, it got worse before it got better, our next encounter only minutes down the road was with a rude señor who wanted us to pay to use the public toilets! Well that set Kara off, no way was her bursting bladder worth the euro. How dare they! And this in Spain!  

We thankfully moved on through a gorgeous park, the Alameda del Tajo. With its beautiful brown and yellow autumn leaves calming us long enough to catch our breaths and even flick a few around. 

The autumn leaves are falling down

Streets of Ronda

But what we most wanted to see was the grand 120 metre high puente nuevo. Listed in forbes magazine as one of the ten most spectacular bridges in the world. Where was it? Hunger flared again, WHERE is that silly old bridge. We walked to the right, nope not that way. We returned, scowled at the man by the toilets and walked to the left, not there either. We weren't off to a good start. With limited time since our train was departing again at 4pm, everyone seemed to be walking so slow and hogged the little cobbled paths. 

View towards the Serrania de Ronda

View of the viewing platform

Borderline speed walking we continued along the edge of Ronda's jagged cliffs following the people who all stood around aimlessly staring off out at the (admittedly amazing) Serrania de Ronda mountains and the vast green rolling hills of Andalucia. 

It was quite clear to see how Ronda had made an excellent early Arab stronghold, protected by it's virtually impenetrable surrounding gorge and steep cliffs- well, we kept safely back, a foot from the edge.

But actually the small city was first settled by the cave painting Celts around the sixth century who called it Arunda. Current Ronda however is of Roman origins receiving it's name during the reign of Julius Ceasar before falling into the hands of the Moors in 713AD. Ooh, Madre Mia there it was!! Finally! We couldn't believe that it was too big to even take a photo of. Really, we were so hungry that we'd turned into pathetic unappreciative travellers, never mind the gorgeous sunny day or the deep rocky ravine, seriously it was just too big. 

 Nuevo Puente

And from the other side

Our brains finally caught up with us and took over. We stumbled (actually, there was a step we didn't see) into the closest cafe. Kara raced to the bathroom and of course this was a 'somebody peed all over the seat' day. In the meantime John stood in line, waiting to order.... forever!

Cute little Ronda shops

Walking around the city 

Birthplace of the bullfighting

Couldn't these people see how hungry we were? With each minute we waited our irrational hanger grew. Finally pushing delicious chicken montaditos into our mouthes ten minutes later only just sufficed. Well we had to get a move on, clearly it was evident we would have to scramble down the hill to try to get a better photo of the whole bridge. 

It was after all, pretty darn amazing. We raced off looking for the path and Kara yelled out tidbits of information so loudly that she could have been taking money as a guide "John, John, hey did you know Ronda has three bridges? The new bridge built in 1793, which isn't actually the newest, the old bridge, which isn't actually the oldest and the Roman bridge, which hahahahaha wasn't even built by the Romans!" and "interesting fact... John, John, are you listening? John? Ok did you know...Ronda is the birthplace of bullfighting? That famous guy Pedro who killed all those bulls is from around here."

Clambering over the rocks

From inside the gorge

We scrambled down the steep bank further and right into the El Tajo gorge. It was cool and damp, the autumn sun not reaching the water below. What was this place? An old dam maybe? Rubbish and rusty iron lay along crumbling concrete. Someone should maybe clean this place up.

Inside El Tajo gorge

Puente Nuevo behind Kara

Holy moley the Nuevo puente was huge, even from the bottom we couldn't get a good shot. We walked around exploring the river and waving at the people over a hundred meters above us. Up again we walked, back to the top, the steep winding path had us panting in no time!

Eastern view out of Ronda

By the time we made it up the hill we had only two hours left before our return train. Still mildly annoyed that our train was late arriving cutting into our exploring time we powered on, walking to the Arco de Felipe V and up over the bridge. The old city was charming with its white painted houses, iron railings and moss covered cobbled streets. As one of Spain's oldest settlements and also one of the last to be conquered during the Spanish reconquista it still boosts beautiful tiled patios and awnings from it's Arab rule.

Arco de Felipe V

House Palace of Marquis de Salvatierra

Roman statue in Plaza de Socorro

Ronda's Plaza de España though was packed with people and we entered into several establishments only to be entirely ignored (at the bar and while sitting at the tables). Only imagining how long it would take for the food to arrive we left each restaurant before finally finding one with an available table and a waiter happy to take our drink order. As typical of this day, only half our food arrived and after asking and politely enquiring the morcilla only surfaced when we stood up to walk out. 

Santa Maria del Mayor

Real Maestranza de Caballeria de Ronda

Eventually we were just too worn down, tired and sad to explore any more. So we ventured into two supermarkets seeking a couple bottles of the local blue labelled Ronda beer, which of of course they didn't have. So rather we opted for a large bottle of Jerez sherry and bag of marzipan pastries which we heartily ate on the train back to Malaga while watching Silcon Valley re-runs. Hopefully we will return to Ronda, but today just wasn't our day.

Tot siens,

John and Kara