Cruel and Unusual Punishment

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Issy decides on a rest day so I head off exploring on my own.

First stop is Malaga’s spectacular Cathedral, or more completely and “Spanish-ly“ the “Santa Iglesia Catedral Basílica de la Encarnacion”. It’s very big, but other than that doesn’t look particularly different to other Spanish cathedrals we’ve seen in our travels. I read that it was built between 1528 and 1782, so they took their time. I’d hoped that was maybe because they wanted to make sure they got everything just right, but no, it seems they just ran out of money. All good there though; they started taxing ships that came into the port, and that suddenly sped everything up and got the job completed. The ever reliable Wikipedia says that the “south tower remains unfinished”. Huh? So it’s not really “completed” at all. Time for some more taxes maybe? There seem to be a lot of cruise ships in here at the moment; surely those guys would be good for a bit of spare cash. As usual I think I might be missing something here.

I head up the hill towards the Gibralfaro Castle which towers over the city. The path starts off gently enough, but it seems that that was just to lull all us poor tourists into a false sense of security. It suddenly gets a lot steeper, and the top is now looking like it’s a long long way off. It’s very hot. I pass a man selling bottles of water for Euro 1.50. They were only Euro 0.20 in the shop we went to last night, but I suspect this guy could name his own price and he’d still get lots of takers. The views down over the city, the port, and along the coast to the south-west are excellent, or at least they would be if I could keep the sweat out of my eyes. It’s bad enough that the path’s long and steep, but it’s slippery too. But all good, I find that the footholds are better if I only step on the mortar joints between the slate tiles. I wonder if Hillary had the same problems on Everest; oh wait, I think his boots had long spikes on them. I don’t think they’d work too well up here.

I reach the top. Victory! But wait, no, I need to pay to get in. I don’t think you’d be too happy if you’d made it this far and realised you’d forgotten your wallet. The views from the tops of the turreted walls (reached by climbing yet more seemingly endless steps - that’s my quota of exercise for the month for the second time in two days. I wonder how that works) are spectacular.

I read that there’s been a lighthouse up here since 6th century BC Phoenician times, and the name means, perhaps unsurprisingly, ”Mount of the Lighthouse”. The earlier ruins were turned into a fortress and progressively enlarged during Moorish rule, the most significant enhancement being completed in 1340. At that stage it was regarded as one of the most impregnable fortresses in the Mediterranean. It was besieged by the Catholic Monarchs Fernando and Isabella in 1487 during the final years of the Reconquista. They eventually recaptured Malaga, and King Fernando then took up residence up here in the fortress, while Queen Isabella decided the city was more her style.

The tour guides me down through to the fortress’s lower sections, and then down some long steep stairs into a tunnel to the exit … or so I thought. But no, it seems the only exit is the via same entrance I came in at, back up steep and seemingly eternally long paths and steps to the top of the hill. Whoever thought that was a good idea had cruel and unusual punishment down to a fine art.

Back at the apartment, and I think I’m overdue for a siesta. I think I’m probably overdue for half a dozen siestas after this morning’s exertions, but I’m not sure that’s quite how the system works.

Issy’s continuing to churn out artistic masterpieces, so I head out on my own again (I think I remember taking a shower this morning) for a evening stroll down to the waterfront and out towards the port. The latter’s most distinctive structure is the 1817 lighthouse, La Farola de Malaga, which is apparently a symbol of the city. The promenade is lined wall to wall with restaurants, and backs onto one of the city’s beaches, Playa la Malagueta, which looks very pleasant.

Meanwhile Issy’s been hard at work washing our clothes in the world‘s smallest washing machine. Seventeen loads later ….

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Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

A hard climb
If you got up there and didn't have a wallet it would be bad, bad, bad. Siesta time