We left Ronda for Malaga after a last coffee, accompanied by Sade’s “Smooth Operator“. Is it really 38 years ago ?
I lied to you at the end of that last post, telling you we took the train just so I could squeeze in a random Don McLean reference but it was so long ago that the Statute of Limitations applies.
We actually too the bus down the valleys to Malaga via Marbella. “The views are spectacular” said Mrs RM, before managing to look even more ill than I did as we weaved round 366 bends (see also : Turkey, 1993).
But at least she saved a fiver on the train, eh ?
I really wanted to bring you a report on Marbella‘s Doom Bar scene, but sadly we only had 20 minutes, just enough to survey some options for Blackpool Jane‘s mascot.
She chose wrong;
To celebrate saving £8.80 I took her out to the sherry bar that Morten recommended.
Having walked every street in Malaga at least thrice, we must have passed the Antigua Casa de Guardia (almost next door to the Burger King on the main through route) a few times,
An inconspicuous entrance,
leads to what looks like the office for a bookbinders,
some wonderful tat on the back wall,
and then a long row of barrels behind the long bar.
Blimey. Looks a bit like Coopers Tavern in Burton.
No Bass in these barrels, though.
I confessed to Mrs RM I’d never knowingly had sherry before, and would just work my way along the top. Or go for the strongest ones.
Apparently that was a bad idea, sherry is quite strong (who knew), even in the little serving glasses. So we just had a couple and a couple of plates of tapas (the weak link here if I’m honest).
The little glasses cost about £1.30 each, the tapas £3.50, all marked in chalk on the bar in front of you like the Cologne bars mark up the dozen glasses of Kolsch.
Four very different sherries, I was almost converted. We were in and out in half an hour, Mrs RM almost wobbling out the door. John Wayne held his sherry better.