We leave Madrid by another high speed train, bound for Malaga. We’re not sorry to leave our rather soulless basement, though we definitely plan on returning to Madrid some day. No first class treats for this journey, but standard class is pretty comfortable, and the food from the buffet car is very good.
We need to get a local train to Torremuelle, where we are staying with our friend Dave. The ticket office is closed, with staff behind the drawn curtains seemingly engaged with other tasks. There are slow moving queues for the two self-service ticket machines as people struggle to work out how to use them. Unlike all other stations we have been through there are no staff to assist. The line also serves the airport, and there are some rather frantic people, probably with flights to catch, who hammer on the ticket office window and plead to be served
We eventually get to the front of the queue, purchase tickets, and get the next train to our destination. The walk down from the station, past expensive properties with steep and well planted gardens is as charming and colourful as we remember from last year.
Dave’s flat might not be one of these luxury villas, but the welcome is as warm as you could wish for and we catch up with each others lives over a few cold beers and food on Dave’s terrace with its smart new awning
In nearby Torremolinos, the original package holiday destination in the 1970s, it is Pride week and we head there for the parade that is due to take place that evening.
mostly consisting of a large number of floats with loud sound systems and partying revellers. The watching crowds are sprayed with water guns, all good fun
There are also more creative costumes and performers amongst the participants walking along the parade route
The next day is taken up with a trip to Malaga, and Dave has recommended the Russian Museum as the place to go
I’ve no idea what to expect from this. It is a display of Russian art from the late 19th century to the mid 20th century.
The strong theme that emerges is of a continual cycle of intellectual opposition to the authoritarian state, that is constantly repressed but is occasionally able to burst forth and flourish when conditions allow
Out of favour thoughts and images are hidden from view in the store rooms of the museum in St Petersburg,
patiently waiting for better times that will enable them to live and flourish once again
After the museum we walk into the centre of Málaga
At first this is along the beach front, past restaurants barbequing seafood: the smells are wonderful. The long plod past the port area is tedious. We should have got the bus
We arrange to meet Dave in Malaga for drinks and tapas. We find a nice bar for a beer or two whilst we wait
A little bit of the Peak District in the centre of Malaga
Dave takes us to a very characterful bar for cheap and tasty food and drink,
after which we have a bit of a walking tour through the streets
and yet more wine
All too soon we are packing up and leaving. We are catching a 3pm bus to the inland town of Salinas, where we will be scooped up by Lindsay and Dave, our next hosts. This gives us time to re-visit the Picasso museum in Malaga
Although it’s just over a year since we visited it last, the displays and exhibits have been changed and refreshed to present Picasso’s story with a different visual background
It’s difficult to pick a shortlist of works to represent this visit
I can relate to this child with shovel picture. Whether the young boy and the old man are one and the same person, I’m not sure, but to me it says that even though we might age physically we can still view the world through younger eyes and minds
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