The story behind these photos aqui.
Following a train and ferry from Africa to Europe, then hopping a bus to Malaga, I looked particularly homeless this evening. And my feet were very cold.
We stumbled into the hotel at midnight, Barcelo Malaga, and a couple of glasses of wine and a slide more than made up for our long journey (I was forced to wear a GoPro.)
GOOOOOAL! And with that, we hit the road, waving goodbye to Malaga and driving east along the southern coast of Spain. No plans, no reservations. Just looking for great little beaches and towns. (I’d always wanted to do this.) Vamos.
I spent a lot of time here.
I cannot understand why girls’ golf clubs are always lavender or pink or some other shade of pastel. It is one of life’s greatest mysteries.
FRIGILIANA. Love this place so much. Again rolled in late at night, and again wine fixes everything.
Next up: San Jose, just outside of Almeria, in the southeast corner of Espana.
Time to head up to Jesus Pobre, a little town in Costa Blanca, halfway between Alicante and Valencia, to visit my Tita Gwen.
Did I mention there are five official languages in Spain? CINCO.
Where we stayed in Malaga, Spain:
Where we stayed in Frigiliana, Spain:
Hotel Villa Frigiliana
Where we stayed in Almeria, Spain:
Dona Pakyta, in San Jose
Where we stayed in Alicante, Spain:
Tita Gwen’s house, in Jesus Pobre, near Javea. My tita, not yours.