Malaga - into the melting pot

Malaga's old town... 
bravely clinging onto its charm.

“Walking into the crowd was like sinking into a stew - you became an ingredient, you took on a certain flavour.”  

Margaret Atwood (in The Blind Assassin).

There has been a lot spoken and written about the city of Malaga in recent years. Most commonly, you’ll read the “from seedy to stylish” theme. And I’ve written it myself. You’ll hear how the city has been transformed from a tatty, rarely-visited provincial capital which just happened to have a large airport that provided access to the infamous Costa del Sol resorts. 

Most of it is true. In an unplanned way, we’ve enjoyed a visit to Malaga late in the year for the past 3 or 4 years, and it’s been a delight. I think that what the “seedy to stylish” writers fail to illustrate is that the transformation is continuous, seemingly unstoppable.

La Malagueta - crystal clear in December.

This year’s winter visit (flight times to Valencia were not going to work for us) showed us a Malaga that had moved forward even from 1 year ago. The delightful Muelle Uno now had a little more buzz, a little more style, sleeker boats, more professional restaurants. Going round by the lighthouse, we found that La Malagueta beach had now realized that the city had a lot of visitors in December, and the chiringuitos were operating as if it was July.

There was the usual Christmas market lining one side of the Paseo del Parque, selling buñuelos, candy floss, fireworks and all the usual Spanish street market junk, but principally items for your “Belén”. Belén is the Spanish word for Bethlehem, but more commonly it describes the nativity scenes that are essential part of Navidad in Spain. Many civic buildings have a large, elaborate display, and there will be big queues to view them. Most homes will also have a Belén, and these stalls (along with many shops in town) supply absolutely anything that might conceivably be included in your nativity scene. And some that might not.

Giraffe anyone?

The Alcazaba and the Teatro Romano.

But this year, lining the other side of the Paso del Parque, was a well-presented local food and drink market. Organised by the Sabor a Malaga organization (who appear to be doing amazing things for the gastronomy of the region) this market showcased all the tasty delights that can come to your table from the area.

Malaga old town -
still charming your socks off.

To add to the above, the old town has bravely held on to its past. Below Castillo Gibralfaro, The Alcazaba shimmers above the Teatro Romano and the clean, wide pedestrian walkway that allows you to pass and take it in. New restaurants and bars may sit in the heart of the tourist trap, but they are new and clean and smell of re-development and ambition. And they respect and enhance the old town.

Pleasingly, the old restaurants have not lost any of their edge, any of their consistent push for quality. An old favourite lived up to its reputation on our second night. The organized chaos and genuine welcome that characterizes these places is as unctuous as the great food… you become an ingredient, as Margaret said at the beginning. A jovial old boy on a table near us bought 6 red roses from a circulating seller, and insisted that each of the staff got one.

Even Plaza Merced (as if to scoff at the prediction in my last Malaga post) was still attractive, still a nice place to eat and drink. Starbucks and the Irish bar hadn’t gone away, but they were kept at bay by the care, cleanliness and decent service from their neighbours. The trees and the smoke from the chestnut stalls diffused the beautiful December sunlight, and made it a delightful place to pass a couple of hours.

Plaza Merced shimmers and shines.
People often ask me why I bother with Spain in December.

What characterized this visit most of all, however, was the crowds. Malaga was packed. There were thousands upon thousands of people in the streets at all times of the day and night. 

Thursday 6^th December had been Día de la Constitución. Saturday 8th December was Día de la Inmaculada Concepción. These were important days in Spain, particularly with it being the 40th anniversary of the constitution that (most) Spaniards hold so dear. Sunday 9th was the Malaga Marathon. The weather was flawless. But what also attracts these crowds is the fact that Malaga really does Christmas, and most of all, Christmas lights. 

There were some impressive Christmas touches all over town. Lights, trees, smiles, eating, drinking, singing, and fun. Los Malagueños are good at having fun, they have this in common with Los Valencianos. But we must go down to Calle Marqués de Larios to catch the main event. 

Calle Marques de Larios
and the incredible Christmas lights.

This elegant, clean, pedestrianised thoroughfare is where you’ll find the only brands who can afford the rent. From Desigual at the top to Massimo Dutti at the bottom (great shirts) it’s retail paradise if that’s what makes you happy. But from late November through the Christmas season, it is the canvas for the most incredible Christmas light display. 

Soaring above the crowds, and running the whole length of this retail-dedicated avenue, you can see a stunning display. For 2018, the display is based on the stained glass windows and domes of the nearby Cathedral. The city council spend many thousands of Euros on this. 

And it appears to be worth every céntimo in visitor numbers. In the minutes before switch-on at dusk, both Plaza de la Constitución and Marqués de Larios itself are rammed with people, so much so that nobody can move… all the way down to Alameda Principal. The same goes for the twice-nightly musical display where the lights “move” in time with the music. It’s “gilding the lily” in our view, but thousands and thousands take this in, every night. We crossed Alameda Principal one evening from our hotel, and blindly collided with the crowd waiting for this musical spectacular. Stuck. Not moving. Only a little shoving and a little luck got us out of that crowd and into a street where you could actually walk. 

Waiting in their thousands for the switch-on at dusk.

The Spanish love crowds, love crowded places. Moving around the streets (when possible) you become aware of their habit of stopping in groups (obvs) to talk (obvs) in the middle of a crowded street. The tide of humanity has to find a way round, and nobody seems to mind. 

The principal phenomenon, however, is the pace that some of the Spanish can walk at. Typically (but not exclusively) a trait of the slightly older Spaniard, is the ability to look like they’re walking, but they are actually moving at marginally under 0.45 miles per hour (0.724 km/h)*. We have been able to adapt to a slower pace as a result of our experiences of Spain, but to walk at this extraordinarily low pace is not achievable by us, and remains a true wonder. 

We have concluded that this ability to perambulate at less than a snails pace has been very deliberately engineered over many years. It may allow time for eating. It may allow time for smoking. It may allow time for a multitude of activities involving a telefono movil. But mostly it allows time for talking. When you hit the brakes to involve an incident with a slow-moving group on any given Spanish calle or plaza, you know that they will be talking. All of them. At the same time. 

In other words, and with extreme skill, they have taken the simple act of getting from point A to point B, and turned it into a social occasion, an opportunity to pass information and opinion, to instruct, to involve, to arrange, to gossip, to indulge their irresistible urge to talk. 

And this cannot be rushed. 

How we wish we could take our time like this. One day.

Perhaps for a little crowd-avoidance, we went into the cathedral for the first time. My education and previous experience of cathedrals led my mind’s eye to envisage the magnificent gothic structures typified by York Minster, Notre Dame de Paris, Palma de Mallorca Cathedral, and so on. Beautiful, soaring spaces, symmetrical and sometimes austere. 

Truly awesome.

Known as La Manquita (the one-armed Lady) due to an incomplete southern tower, Malaga Catherdral is different. The Renaissance architectural tradition gives the interior layers, perspectives and visual interest that keeps you moving around the inside, as if to make sure you don’t miss what’s on offer to your eyes. Some of the elaborate craftsmanship typical of the catholic tradition is truly incredible. 

Whatever your beliefs, I think a little time spent in places such as this is a must. It takes you away from everything, into a world unaffected by Brexit or broadband speed or beating the traffic or bemoaning the exchange rate. 

We realised with some surprise that we had never even been into Valencia Cathedral, nor seen the (allegedly) very special artefact which is held within. This will be corrected before the end of 2018. Having experienced the magnificence of the Basilica de la Virgen de los Desamparados next door, it’s a keenly anticipated visit. 

So we had taken on a little of the flavor of Malaga. We had become an ingredient for a while. It’s not Valencia. It doesn’t want or need to be Valencia. It has gone from seedy to stylish, but it won’t stop there. We’ll visit again, enjoy the crowds again, and we’ll walk at marginally under 0.45 miles per hour if required. We’ll enjoy what’s new next time, because there will be something new. 

We’ll be back in Valencia over the Christmas holidays. We need to prepare for 2019 rentals, and we need to arrange our own visits for the year. Perhaps Fallas in March, perhaps a long, soporific summer holiday. Perhaps both. 

I’m grateful to Los Malagueños. They’re fun. I think we bumped into all 600,000 of them.


*Not scientifically verified.