Rushing to Resting: My Málaga Shift

History were the first two stops in my exploration of Málaga. If I’m honest, I was moving at a million miles an hour to make sure I ticked everything off my afternoon list. I was still able to enjoy both the cathedral and the Alcazaba, but I’d done it quickly. So despite all my planning, I was back in that all-or-nothing mode — getting it done as opposed to actually doing it. It’s funny how I don’t even notice when I’ve slipped into that mindset, racing around like the Energiser Bunny. I wonder what I must look like to others when I’m in that mode.

It wasn’t until I realised I was somehow hours ahead of schedule that it clicked what I was doing. I sat down on the ground near the Roman Theatre, watching a man filling the square with bubbles, and realised it was time to slow down. I stayed there for a while just watching people of all ages interact with the bubbles. I also bought a bottle of water and actually drank it. Eating and drinking are two of the first things I forget when I get into a doing-things mode. It becomes a problem if I let it run too long — I’m burning all this energy but not refuelling at all.

I’d technically “done” everything I planned to do this evening, but because I’d rushed, I now had way more time than expected before dinner or bed were calling. I figured I’d get a head start on tomorrow’s to-do list, so I headed to the Picasso Museum. The queue was ridiculous, so instead I visited his childhood home. No queue there at all, and free entry — bonus. Other than the IKEA editions I’ve got hanging at home, I don’t really know much about Picasso. Impressionism, Cubism, and all those arty-farty words go over my head, but I do enjoy looking at his work — even if I couldn’t tell you what it’s supposed to be called.

Early Picasso childhood complete, and rather than diving back into Google Maps for more things to tick off, I decided to just sit and watch the world go by in a nearby square. I found a bar called Carmen’s Bar, apparently a local gay bar. I sat down, strangely (for me), ordered a beer and a water, and took some time to scroll through today’s photos and videos — there are a lot! The bar was pretty empty. I later realised that Torremolinos Pride was happening this week, and a big beach party was wrapping up today. All the gays were obviously there.

Beer slowly drunk, and lightweight me feeling a little tipsy after drinking on an empty stomach, I decided to wander back to the hotel and recharge before dinner. I’ve learned from previous trips to Spain that there’s no point trying to find food at 6pm — dinner here doesn’t really kick off until at least 8. Back at the hotel I pottered about online, posted a few more photos on Instagram, and debated skipping dinner entirely and heading straight to bed. But I resisted and headed back out in search of tapas.

Tapas dreams were quickly dashed by the smell of pizza just a few streets into my walk. I ordered a diavola and demolished it in minutes. I was hungry and clearly needed it. By now, yawns were leaking from my mouth with increasing frequency. Like a mother’s contractions before childbirth, the shrinking gaps between yawns signalled it was definitely time for bed.Leia mais