November 3 – The Griswold’s Malaga

If, as Forrest Gump says, life is like a box of chocolates, we always pick the same one.  We seem to follow the same routine in some of what have become our favorite ports.  Malaga is a fine example.

This is the third time in three years that we have stopped here.  We take a shuttle to the center of town, walk on the pedestrian mall, get something to eat and return to the ship.  It is a good place to walk and watch people.  On the previous two trips, we found our way to the central market which was filled with produce, proteins and spices as well as lunch counters and flowers.  In 2015, the market was so crowded that we could barely move, so we left after about five minutes.  It was not as bad last year and we were able to purchase saffron at the first stall we saw. 

We skipped the market today.  The weather was starting to threaten and the extra walking would have posed a problem for MA.  Although we love wandering in markets [and hope to do it in Barcelona in a few days], we had nothing special to look for.  We will assume it was packed with folks buying food for the weekend.

Our relaxed morning soon developed into confusion.  Breakfast in the MDR was very pleasant because we began talking to the couple at the next table.  They are Canadians but he is originally from Greece.  He is called Costa, short for Constantine, and says he has people on cruises ask him if he is the owner of Costa Cruises.  He tells them “yes” even though the company is part of the Carnival family.  We hope to see these people again.

After breakfast, MA had a manicure appointment.  While she was in the salon, D went to explore the shuttle bus situation.  He was told that there was a shuttle but that it cost 4 euros.  A look at last year’s blog yesterday showed that it cost 5 euros then, so we were getting a bargain.  He took the NYT puzzle to the salon and finished most of it while waiting for MA.  We returned to the cabin and packed our tablets and the camera in our bag and headed out.

Griswold incident #1  When we walked of the gangway, the shuttle bus was waiting.  A few others got on and then we started out.  The bus stopped at the terminal building, we assumed so the passengers and crew could take advantage of free WiFi.  The bus started up again and went right back to the ship.  The driver spoke only Spanish, so we talked at but not with each other.  Finally we figured out that we had to get off at the terminal, go through to the exit and take a different bus [the 4 euro one] into the city.  Even then, it was confusing trying to figure out which was our bus because the other cruise ships in port had their own waiting outside the terminal.  They got coach buses; we got MTA.

But we got to town and the same parking lot we have been shuttled to every year.  Good news!  We knew where we were and where we were going.  We crossed the street, dodging horse-drawn carriages full of tourists and headed for the pedestrian mall looking for a café for lunch.

Griswold incident #2  D thought last year’s was off to the left closer to the market but was mistaken, apparently.  We wandered through the pedestrian side streets and finally decided to go back where we started.  We think we found the square we were looking for, but D is still not completely convinced.

There were no tables available outside, so we went in because MA really need to sit.  It was hotter inside with no air movement and we were sweating despite the November weather.  We practically had to beg for service and English was not a known quantity, but finally we made contact and ordered to tapas plate for two.  If we could eat the local fish stew in Nazaree, we could eat the tapas in Malaga.  Naturally, we ordered two Cokes, the drink of the gods.

Griswold Incident #3 While we waited for food and drink to appear, D was able to co-opt a table outside where it was cooler and there was a breeze.  When the waitress started to bring our drinks – real hourglass Coke bottles and authentic Coca Cola glasses! – D showed her where were sitting.  And sitting.  And waiting.  After quite a while, he went to inquire about our food and set off a finger-pointing display worthy of the Three Stooges.  Everyone blamed everyone else for the confusion.  We put an end to it by ordering pastries instead of tapas.  Not as adventurous, perhaps, but delicious nonetheless.

While we were waiting for Godot, we were able to access the restaurant’s WiFi and, thus, catch up with our assorted accounts.  We also witnessed a rally of some sort but have no idea what it was; neither did the couple at the next table.  All we know is that there was a police presence, as they say, in the area.

We returned to the ship without incident although there was a slight wait for the shuttle bus to appear and there was some unnecessary pushing and rudeness by some of the old people trying to get on the bus.  Whatever happened to class?  More on that in a later post.

TOMORROW -- Cartagena, another favorite