Touring Málaga was long and hard.  We woke early to catch a train from Granada.  Arriving at 9, we hit the pavement and went strong till 20:30, when we caught a return train back to Granada.  We covered almost 9 miles and climbed hills equivalent to a 50 story building.

The morning was filled with The Alcazaba (al-cath-a-ba) and a climb to Gibralfaro Castle.  The castle was built later and is higher up the mountain.  The fortified palace connected to the castle via a walkway in the walls.  The military was stationed there, while the rulers slept in their walled home.  By now the rough contours the whole alcazar should be well familiar.  A high point surrounded by mountains on one side and the sea on the other makes a great perch to see enemies coming.  The imagery and history is also roughly similar.  An Islamic force occupies and rules the area for several centuries.  Royalists come, using Christianity as a bludgeon, push out the evil, nasty invaders and “free” everyone from their “tyranny.” Invaders almost have to see themselves as liberators it would seem.

We climbed the hill to visit the castle, stopping frequently along the way to rest … I mean take pictures of the lovely scenery. 

This particular area has been inhabited since the Phoenicians, dating to the 7th century B.C.  A Roman Amphitheater sits at the base, dating from the 1st century.  The actual alcazaba was built in the 11th century, and has been significantly restored.  I think it was not very well preserved.  Little was found of the Phoenicians except some artifacts, and the theater is in rough shape.  To be fair, it’s like 2000 years old.  Still used for productions, though. 

We trained to Madrid the following morning.  It started well, but eventually our engine began having serious trouble.  It would just stop working and the train would come to a quick stop.  It took a long time to get to Madrid.  Renfe, the national rail network operator, will refund us the ticket price because they guarantee an on time arrival.  For the high speed trains if they’re 15 minutes late, 50% refund.  More than 30 minutes, full refund.  None of the Spaniards on the train could remember the last time a train was late and they got a full refund.  I will also mention, because I found it amusing, our train “limped along” at well over the top speed of Amtrak’s Acela.  Going to Seville from Madrid, I noticed our train traveling at 300 km/hr at one point.  The Spaniards have a relationship to Renfe I don’t think Americans can fully understand.  Like the Brits with the BBC, they feel an ownership that is foreign to us.  

For New Years we went to dinner and a Flamenco show.  A group of older French tourists were talking and annoying the performers.  It got tense and ugly for a bit.  I threw some candy at them.  I know, I know.  Why so down on the French, Lance?  Croissants are great and all, but I think we can all agree we paid a high price … i.e., enduring the French and their Frenchness.  They eventually quieted when they noticed the restaurant turning on them.  Draw your own parallels on how history repeats itself. 

I don’t like really American Americans, either.  Or really artsy artists.  Or super cult-y religious disciples.  Or Influencers really into influencing.  Or intellectuals that prattle on about their intellect.  Like, dial it back a bit.  We get it, you’re proud of this thing you think makes you unique which in fact isn’t all that unique.  Have a drink, step outside yourself for a moment.  

This is Plaza del Mayor, which is home to a lovely Christmas market.  It was closing up when we got there, and everyone was heading to Plaza del Sol for the New Years countdown, similar to New York’s Times Square.  

At New Years the Spaniards eat 12 grapes every second for the first 12 seconds of the new year.  So that’s what we did.  Then cheers and kisses all around, topped off with champagne.  The three of us walked home at 1245 exhausted.  For several blocks mom only communicated using her noise maker.  We eventually had to take it away from her so she’d speak.  

Today, the 1st, we toured Madrid’s famous park, El Parque del Buen Retiro, which is massive.  Above is our last sunset in Spain.  Tomorrow this time, we’ll be home (hopefully) safe and sound.  

Last post tomorrow.  Have a good night.