Costa del Sol/Spanish Riviera (10/23-24/1981)

Friday, October 23, 1981

We have been getting up by 8:00 most mornings. That is after Rod heads to work on his bicycle. We took a walk all around the jogging road which runs along a stream. The stream appears to be a dumping ground, but here too is where people wash their cars. Mikayla was collecting stones and tasting them.

View from the J apartment

View from the J apartment

Mikayla refused to take a nap today. I helped to make a pumpkin pie, and stayed until Rod got home from work. Kathy walked me to the bus stop and I caught a bus about 18:00.

Torrejon bus ticket

In Torrejon I managed to get the 18:20 train to Atocha. The train was extremely crowded, but the lottery man still managed to squeeze through.

At Atocha, I spent 10 minutes in a line at the ticket window, when the ticket guy got up and left. We switched lines to wait some more. I got a cuchette/sleeper ticket for 595 ESP/$6.20 and I still had three hours until the 21:55 train to Málaga. After a thorough washing up in the restroom, I found a seat to people-watch. Several senior citizens and people with handicaps went around selling lottery tickets. One was a spastic athetoid who maneuvered a three-wheeled bicycle by hand. The grown man next to me was reading a comic book.

Madrid to Málaga cuchette/sleeper ticket

At 20:00 I was able to board the train to Málaga and was shown to a middle bunk under a pudgy Spaniard already in the top bunk. He tried to engage me in a conversation but we got nowhere. A younger man came in, threw his things on the other top bunk, and disappeared. An Englishman came in wanting the top bunk, but had to settle for a middle one. This guy was very happy there was someone else who spoke English, and felt that the rest of the world should learn his language! He wanted to know if I was one of these Americans rushing around Europe on Eurail Passes. Not anymore! He hoped that no children joined us and had many disparaging remarks to make. However, he did so enjoy traveling by train!

Relatives of an older lady packed her in a bottom bunk and an anonymous man took the last bottom bunk. We left 5 minutes late at 22:00, and I hunkered down in my bunk for the night.

Saturday, October 24, 1981

Somewhere in the middle of the night we were stopped for longer than usual and I heard talk of the “máquina/engine.” Did we need a new locomotive?

We were due in Málaga at 8:20, but I figured we would be late and just in case I used the restroom at 8:00. I stood outside the compartment to watch the scenery go by; Gently rolling hills with olive trees. At first they seemed bare, but then I noticed green olives, and later some trees with black olives. At the dirt crossroads, trucks loaded with men or pairs of men on mopeds waited for the train to pass. Near the Puente Genil station there was an abandoned factory whose chimney was gently bent at the top. A steam shovel appeared to be playing in the dirt.

The land was rocky and dusty. Saw a couple tethered donkeys and one carrying a load of sticks. A couple tethered goats but most were in herds tended by old men or women, or small boys. Saw cork trees and what appeared to be cotton fields, low bushes with puffs of white. Further along, it began to get mountainous and there were prickly pear bushes and century plants. The older lady returned from the restaurant and explained the bunks could be let down to form seats, so pudgy, the lady, and I sat down. Anonymous had already gotten off the train, the younger man disappeared again, and the Englishman took his turn standing outside the compartment.

We finally arrived in Málaga 2-1/2 hours late, at 11:00. I followed a sign pointing the way to a local railroad which goes to Torremolinos. The Englishman was going that way as well. We entered the subway-like entrance and were directed right to the train, a typical Red Nacional de Ferrocarriles Españoles (RENFE)/Spanish National Railway Network electrified local train, except that it had better provisions for luggage. This train came out from underground and stopped at several rapid transit-type stations, including one at the Málaga airport. We went underground again for the Torremolinos stop.

In Torremolinos, we had to walk up the stairs to exit, because the escalator wasn’t working. I wanted to head for the sea despite the overcast skies and the cool breeze. I came to Torremolinos to see the central setting of James Michener’s book “The Drifters.”

First view of Torremolinos beach

Walked through outdoor cafés and past gift shops, bars, galleries, and boutiques. Apparently Torremolinos has grown in the past ten years and is now mostly new and tall hotels and apartment buildings. Most signs were in Spanish and English, and menus were in multiple languages, foremost in German.

Followed a sign to La Playa/Beach where you had to go down stairs to reach the sand. An elevator was another option. Down below you had a closer look at the porous Lava-like rock cliffs of the Punta de Torremolinos/Torremolinos Point. However, the little caves were full of garbage.

Porous rock cave

There were a few straw umbrellas and lounge chairs on the beach, but most seemed to be in the process of being trucked away.

Torremolinos beach

No one was on the beach, and the wind was causing big breakers that muddied the color of the water. Many very tan people were walking along the promenade and I joined them. Passed beachfront hotels and bars. Some ladies were selling embroidered cloth. Torremolinos was full of cats!
Saw an old Spanish villa that seemed out of place here.

Spanish villa

I detoured out onto the wet sand.

Torremolinos beach

Beachfront hotel

Torremolinos old town

Porous rock cliff

Beach elevator

Street sign

The supermarket had postcards of Málaga and not Torremolinos. Saw Jabón Maja Myrurgia/Maja soap for about $1 a bar.

Torremolinos new town

Torremolinos train station entrance

Hiked back up to the train station and caught a train back to Málaga about 13:00. Two German ladies sat across from me and one made a joke. The other turned to me to translate the joke into Spanish. I didn’t understand the translated version!

Talgo train in Málaga station

In Málaga, I got my train reservation for Barcelona, then went to explore the city. Walking forward out of the station, I ended up at El Corte Inglés department store, near where a wide road crossed a wide dry riverbed. Stopped in the store to find the book department and check a guidebook and map for sights to see. Decided I should at least buy the map. I didn’t have far to go, crossing the riverbed and following the palm-tree lined boulevard.

Alameda Principal/Main Mall

The street was full of buses, some with “popping” air brakes? Some buses were marked “Butano;” were they fueled with butane gas? Passed roasted chestnut vendors, candy vendors, and cigarette vendors. To the right you could see the masts of large ships.

Arrived at Ayuntamiento/City Hall, completed in 1919 and designed by two architects from Málaga, Fernando Guerrero Strachan and Manuel Rivera Vera, in Neo-Baroque style.

Ayuntamiento/City Hall

I walked up a slight hill to the Alcazaba or Kasbah, the lower fortress and royal residence of the Castillo de Gibralfaro/Gibralfaro Castle, rebuilt in the 11th century by the Hammudid dynasty, a Berber Muslim tribe that ruled that area of Spain. Thus, Moorish architecture. The museum was closed.

Alcazaba or Kasbah

Nearby I peeked through a locked gate at the ruins of the Roman theatre of Málaga, which dates from the 1C BC (rediscovered in 1951). Climbed farther along the walls of the Castillo de Gibralfaro/Gibralfaro Castle. From a lookout point you could look down into a bullfight arena, and see the port and an avenue with fountains below.

View towards bullfight arena

View towards port

Bullfight arena

Bullfight arena

City Hall and gardens

Mediterranean Sea

There were a lot of prickly pear cacti around.

Prickly pear cacti

Walked back down the hill, passing a Spanish guard with his “Mickey Mouse” hat and a submachine gun.

Found the Santa Iglesia Catedral Basílica de la Encarnación/Holy Basilica Cathedral of the Incarnation. When crossing the dry riverbed, I ran into the pudgy Spaniard from the train. He engaged me in a conversation, using French words for the difficult Spanish words. He absolutely insisted I share his pastries, so I eventually took half of light layered cake with cream between the layers, and another cake with a chocolate and a vanilla layer surrounded by cream with shredded coconut on top. He accompanied me into El Corte Inglés, where I was looking for postcards. He walked me to the Metro station, all the while asking me to go to dinner, and wouldn’t understand my “¡No!”

Took the subway from the Guadalmedina station one stop to the RENFE station. Couldn’t find postcards at the station either. I should have bought postcards of Málaga in Torremolinos!

Málaga to Barcelona train ticket

Took the 17:15 train to Barcelona, passing rolling hills with goat herds heading home in the sunset. I somehow ended up in a First Class smoking section, and the two Spanish girls smoked a lot of cigarettes before getting off at the 2nd and 3rd stations. The men in the compartment wanted to share their food with me.

At about 23:00 they pulled out the seats and everyone stretched out to sleep. Since our compartment door was a struggle to open, I didn’t go to the bathroom that night. I put on  my jacket because it was getting cold, but later someone turned on the heat. One guy turned on his side so that his knees touched mine. With the rocking of the train, we got excellent contact. I had to change out of my comfortable position to avoid him. These Spaniards!