OK, first set of the Malaga holiday snaps. Enjoy, or look forward to me swapping Malaga for Dover in a week’s time.
I knew almost nothing about Malaga, bar the fact that City nicked the greatest manager in their history in 2013, sending their brave team into freefall.
I had no idea it was home to well over half a million, and you get no sense of that from the walk round the old town.
There’s three things I look for in a European city that doesn’t serve Dizzy Blonde on handpump.
Quaint churches with art deco exteriors and/or ornate interiors,
fish markets with squid bigger than Mrs RM’s laptop,
and the ability to get lost round every turn.
OK, cutting-edge street art helps too,
and if you haven’t got craft beer then at least offer a pint of Amstel for 3 euros.
Don’t worry, be happy, indeed.
Malaga is certainly cheaper than Macclesfield (Spoons apart), but obviously the North-West has the better weather at the moment.
Not much craft, but I do have bars dedicated to the Bard of Burslem (no, not Robbie Williams),
and what I thought was a Smiths pub (top) till I realised it was majoring on Guinness.
So many choices. But that’s your first 10 holiday snaps, you might even get a pub later. But probably not.