Warm air with a hint of coffee, olives, foreign tobacco and a kind of ’sweet’ smell, a bit like vanilla… that indefinable smell of Spain again!
Málaga airport, waiting for the No 19 bus outside Arrivals. Jostling crowds, their heavy bags getting in the way. More and more passengers join the queue. After what seems like an age (the buses are in fact every half hour), a bus trundles round the corner and heads our way. A scramble to get on and find a seat, if you’re lucky! Then suddenly it’s all worth the wait, and one euro will take you right into the centre of Málaga.

I find myself talking to a German couple on their way to Torrox. We manage to get by in Spanish, as they can’t speak English, and I can’t speak German! Half an hour later, a full bus disgorges most of its passengers and their luggage at Málaga bus station. I stay on the bus, which in fact goes all the way to the Plaza General Torrijos, right at the end of the Paseo del Parque. But this time I get off down the Alameda Principal, the main street of Málaga, an avenue which runs under a canopy of very old and impressive South American trees. Well supplied with economical but comfortable and clean hotels, this area could not be more central or more convenient.

This time I am using the Hotel Sur for an overnight stay, just adjacent to Calle Córdoba. But we have also stayed at the Hotel Castillo in this area, and both are newly refurbished and equally well equipped. They, and several others in the immediate area, are all you need for a convenient overnight stay, or as a base from which to explore. They are right in the centre, at the meeting point of the Alameda Principal, Calle Larios and the Paseo del Parque. You are also very near the port where you can see the really big cargo ships, and cruise liners coming and going. This area abounds with typical traditional cafés, and my first Spanish coffee after arriving from the UK tastes divine!

Next morning, feeling rested after the previous day’s journey I leave the hotel and go in search of breakfast. But to my dismay, it’s raining! No, it’s positively pouring in torrents! But sure enough, it is easy to find a nearby café without having to get too drenched on the way. It is 10 o’clock by now, and at this time the cafés and bars are full of Spanish office workers enjoying their ‘desayuno’ amidst a hub-bub of animated conversation. Most of them are having coffee and a ‘pitufo’, a bread roll (which varies in size and shape depending where you are), cut in half and toasted. I decide to have the ‘bacon y vegetal’, which turns out to be a ‘BLT’ without the ‘T’! If you feel like a more elegant breakfast, you are just a short step from the lovely Café Lepanto in nearby Calle Larios. Here, as well as being a delightful ‘Patisserie’, all meals including breakfast are served with flair and courtesy at very attractive prices.

We have found that hotels in this area are willing to let you leave your suitcases safely with them after checking out at midday. This is another plus if you have time to explore, and don’t want to take your luggage with you. A short walk will take you into the old town of Málaga. I needed to go across this way to visit a particularly good language bookshop (Rayuela) in the Plaza de la Merced, just next door to Picasso’s Birthplace. You can visit this fascinating house with all its exhibits for just one euro, or for free if you are a child or a pensioner! The presence of so much ‘realia’ from Picasso’s early life leaves one with a very strange feeling… A column to the memory of those who died in the Civil War takes pride of place in the centre of Plaza de la Merced, while sweet scented Jacaranda trees surround the square, providing a welcome leafy shade in the heat of the Summer.

Not so today though! Needless to say, I cannot find the book I wanted. But while I have been browsing the heavens have opened with renewed vigour, and the rain has started to fall again in earnest, in true Spanish style! I would have liked to visit the ‘Museo del Arte Flamenca’ situated very near here, but I decide to cut my losses and head back towards the hotel.

It is surprising the different things you notice when you are making a dash for it through the rain, and watching where you put your feet! I notice the intricate patterns of the inlaid stones on some of these ancient cobbled streets. It must have been a painstaking task laying them, but they have lasted all these years. People are sheltering in the doorway of the ancient San Santiago church in Calle Granada as I pass by. Further on there are the oranges to dodge, having fallen on the pavements from the orange trees above.

Along the Calle Alcazabilla I pass beneath the Alcazaba, the ancient fortress with its Arab origins, and the well-preserved Roman theatre below. Beyond and higher still, the city of Málaga is watched over by the magnificence of the Gibralfaro Castle, which can easily be visited by taking a No 35 bus from along the Alameda Principal or the Paseo del Parque. From here, after a short climb along the ancient walls, you will be rewarded by breathtaking ‘postcard’ views over the bay of Málaga and the bullring. A few steps further down the Calle Alcazabilla, I register in my haste a typically Spanish looking bar, which looks very inviting. It is called ‘La Bodeguita de Málaga’, complete with barrels and Andalucían ceramic tiles. There’s a tantalising offer of a ‘Copa de Vino, 1.50′! Promising. But then the offer in English of a ‘Cup of Wine, 1.50′ somehow takes away from the authenticity!

In the same street, I swiftly glimpse for a second the magnificence of two ‘tronos’, (thrones), or what we would regard as ‘floats’ used in the Semana Santa (Holy Week) Easter processions. One is silver. and the other pure gold. Their sheer size and brilliance, even without the adornment of flowers and the sacred figures is staggering. This is the ‘Museo de Semana Santa’, and it belongs to the ‘Cofradia del Santo Sepulcro’, the Brotherhood of the Holy Sepulchre. It is in the process of being promoted as a tourist venue. In the two adjoining rooms you can also see examples of the magnificent tunics worn by those bearing the heavy floats, and examples of the colourful standards carried in procession by the standard bearers.

Back at the hotel I collect my luggage, and juggling my now dripping umbrella I take the short 2 minute walk to the bus stop, in the Alameda Principal. You can take a No 19 or a No 4 to the bus station, and the No 19 will take you right inside. However, because of the rain I jump (as swiftly as one with a suitcase can) on to the No 4 bus which comes along after a couple of minutes. Having just returned from my Christmas break in England, where my tea addiction has been rekindled, I succumb to the temptation of a very welcome ‘té con leche’, or in other words a ‘nice cup of tea’, at a bar adjacent to the bus station!

I am travelling back to Campillos which is some 60km away, a small country town North West of Antequera, renowned for its leather products. If you choose your bus time carefully you can take a bus which is fairly direct and cover the journey in one and a half hours. After a drive through spectacular mountain scenery the road finally descends into the plain. Soon I can see the strange shaped mountain of Antequera, which is steeped in legend and is seen by many as the head of a Red Indian. After just one stop in Antequera we speed on our way for the last 30km to Campillos. Stepping from the bus half an hour later, I am immediately struck by the sudden drop in temperature compared to Málaga. But at least it’s not raining, and there’s even a hint of sunshine! Hard to believe that only 24 hours earlier I was in the centre of London, the ‘hub of the world’, but now there is no doubt at all that I am back in Campillos!

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