[Izulde]

I hate plane rides. I really do. Chicago to London was as a pain in the butt as I figured it'd be, though I discovered these filters for the ears called Earplanes that cut down a lot on the ear hell I get from flying. Didn't eliminate it completely, but cut it down enough till it was manageable.

Both Heathrow and Malaga airport are undergoing heavyduty renovation which amused me for some reason, though I can't say for sure why.

As for Malaga itself, I noticed the following things:

1) Construction
2) Graffiti
3) Car rental places and dealerships

And that was just on the bus ride to the hotel.

After we got all checked in, we had and still have free time until 8:30 pm, when dinner starts. Of couse, everyone is way freaking tired, including me, but we press on. I in particular wanted to see the Alcazaba, as I have a serious thing for castles.

This meant negotiating the Malaga bus system, I who know no Spanish and who, during an earlier walk with my hotel roommate to the beach, discovered that street signs in Malaga are a foreign invention.

Fortunately, I found the bus stop across from the hotel easily enough, after getting some assistance from the front desk and had a general idea of where to get off, particularly with the occasional signs that popped up.

Got off at the Malaga city centre and wandered in the general direction that I knew my destination to be in until I eventually stumbled upon it.

According to the information I got, there's supposed to be a Roman ruin of sorts at the foot of the hill, but I didn't really see it too well, unless it was the wide, sloping steps leading up to the entrance that could've passed for ampitheatre aisles, I suppose.

1,95 euros later and I was officially in the Alcazaba, with an extremely lightweight English-language brochure, which I patently just ignored as it didn't really tell me anything and instead just wandered the castle, taking pictures.

After about the first ten minutes, I came to the following realization:

Taking a picture of yourself, or attempting to, when sightseeing, is a real bitch. Try as I might, I just couldn't get a good photo of myself. On top of it, I dropped my camera and the top cracked, though thankfully not as bad as t did in the Parliament Building in Budapest. It still takes pictures, but I don't know how good they are now. I'll be uploading them and e-mailing them to my mom and she can take a look.

Despite my self-photography troubles, I did enjoy the Alcabaza. I have a real affinity for long, sloping steps, beautiful arches, long hallways and exquisitely designed gardens and fountains. This palace-fortress had everything but the long hallways (at least relative to other hallways I've seen). There were lots of little nooks and crannies to explore too, so that it was a good hour and a half before I finally left.

On my way back to the bus stop, which I figured the location of by deductive reasoning (i.e. it must be opposite of where I was dropped off), I strolled through an open-air mall that had pedestrian only zones. (I love those types of malls). Lot of international names there, mostly clothing and other speciality stores.

It was in that mall that I made my first authentic purchase in Spain. Since I was thirsty, I decided to order a mango drink. I didn't speak Spanish, the girl didn't speak English, so we did a two and a half minute me-pointing, she-guesing game until she got the bottle.

And then I realized the bottle was half-full and what I thought was a mango juice bottle was actually a little bit of mango juice in a lot of shaved ice, which she proceeded to mix together.

Then came payment time. I got the dos part right for 2 euros, but thought she meant 5 for the cents part and since I just happened to have 2 euros, 5 cents, I slid it over.

Nope.

She repeated the cents part and held up four fingers. Okay, apparently 2,40. So I just gave her a 10 euro bill to get some change.

Good mango shaved ice, by the by.

Then I hopped on the bus and got off at the SuperCor, which is my landmark for the hotel... only I didn't see my hotel. I'm starting to panic now, thinking I'm totally lost, but then my feet start walking without me and three minutes later, I'm in front of my hotel.

So yeah, in a lot of ways this is reminding me of last time in Europe, where I relied only minimally on maps and I have this weird ability to just find stuff by stumbling around.

I've an hour and a half to kill, so I'll probably go to the SuperCor supermarket and see what's what.

Overall, my initial impression of Malaga is that it's considerably overrated as a tourist destination. Its beaches, at least the one I saw, was pretty dirty and while it's a bustling city, I'm not really feeling any soul to this place, if you get what I mean.

I will say though, I'm definitely starting to grow fond of Moorish architecture. I love the arch styles and the geometric gardens are curiously peace-inducing.