Anxiety-it is the current buzz word…that and 6-7. Whether you are young or old, the internet and people are full of folks public claiming their anxieties and/or attempting to sell you a way to cure/tame/let go of your internal monster. It is the multi purpose monster that can be blamed for all sorts of things. Press here to follow or subscribe. Do Eddie and I have internal monsters to be tamed? Absolutely…however, we are from the suck it up era…only our closest friends and family have met our monsters. Our port stop in Malaga had my monster on full display. My monster can reveal itself in several different forms. In Málaga, Spain, it is the PTSD monster with a guest appearance of performance anxiety.
Malaga is a sparkling jewel on the Spanish Golden Sun Coast. Clean, historic charm and modern. We can see miles of beaches from the ship…we drew the short straw as there is a Princess ship in port today, so we have the industrial view…but we made deck laps to see what we could. The sea and Sky are wonderful shades blue, the beach is not white sand, but more like Galveston…putty grey. The vegetation is lush, tropical and well maintained. We saw only one abandoned building that had been tagged with spray paint, Eddie’s pet peeve. So, the port stop gets high marks on the Eddie scale. If I were to take on a boyfriend, it would not be Leo, our neighbor, it would be a young Spanish fellow from this region. Tall, tan, bedroom eyes, dark hair, yeah, it is the land of male arm candy on old ladies. When we determined what we would do in the only port we have not been to on this trip, we reviewed the ship board excursions, selections from the usually groups sources (think Trip Advisor, Viator, Shore excursions.com), and private sources. After over 25 years of cruise traveling, there is a sweet spot for Eddie. 4 hours, middle of day, not to physical, not a bus ride, food or liquor are big selling points. Malaga had several options if you wanted to hike mountains, 4x4 ATV tours, city walking with Cathedrals and Museums (Picasso was born here),flamenco dancing lessons,💃🏼 or a food tour. Drum roll please…which do you Eddie picked? We have done tons of these. The independent operator (no ship board upcharge that guaranteed we would be back on time) offered a four stop tour to sample all the regional dishes. We have done these before all over the world, it usually has four restaurants nestled close together. The walking is minimal. There the usual low hang fruit close by of churches, historical buildings that are easy to return to after the tour. Eddie prefers a limo driven food tour, but that option was not available without loads of homework and money spent.
What did we get for $129.00, each (without tip)? Well, the instructions which were included a piece of paper with your electronic ticket scan code and strongly suggested you take a taxi from the port. Celebrity use to provide shuttle buses at no additional charge when the port and city were 2.5 miles apart. No more, that will be 10 Euros each way, per person. Line forms in the terminal for tickets. So, local cab it is. We made a classic rookie mistake. We allowed ourselves to be snookered by the first guy out the port doors. Was the vehicle white? Yes. Did it say Taxi? Yes, there was a sign on the door. Could it have been a Amazon or Etsy Spain magnetic sign, possibly. Was there a meter inside the vehicle? No. He was lined up with the other white taxi looking cars in front of the port building. I had done my map homework and knew vaguely where we were headed. Did we go that way? Nope, we did a little off the beaten path route. Did my anxiety monster start to appear about being carted off and robbed? You betcha. Did we get overcharged? Absolutely. That will be 20 euros, please…the driver kept his hand out for a tip. Nope, even Eddie knew better.
Our instructions from the company were very specific. Arrive 15-20 minutes prior to the 11:30 start time at the designed meeting place and look for a person holding a sign saying “Do Eat Better”. We were early. Of course, we were, we are the Pickles, we arrive early always. After the appointed meeting time came and went, we spotted another couple with a similar piece of paper looking for a tour guide with a sign. They were from the Princess ship and bragged that they had hiked 5 miles before coming here. Show Offs. He went on to say he had texted the company and Jose (we have several of those at home) was stuck in the subway and would be there shortly. Okay, strike one. At 11:40, 25 minutes after the meet time, Jose arrives with no sign. Heavily accented Spanish/English and no apologies. Strike two. We are joined by a German couple from a local hotel. So the seven of us strike out for what we assumed was a short walk to restaurant Number one. Nope, we sprinted because we are running behind schedule to make the guaranteed ship departure deadline. We arrived in the rather crowded market. It is similar to the one in Barcelona. Moorish influence in architecture and the stained glass window at one end, needed no explanation. The local fruits and vegetables would make H‑E‑B look bad. Our first “course” was eating fresh olives, Malaga almonds and figs and jambon (Spanish for ham) on a very small piece of bread. The market was crazy crowded. After the electronically stolen credit card, my PTSD had my purse in my underwear. Yes, we only had cash (euros) and a credit card in a RFD slot, my phone but I was not going to take any chances. We have done fresh markets before, we rarely eat their offerings, flies, no FDA inspectors, dirty hands pawing the offerings. I am my mother’s child, I will pass. Jose’s brisk sprint, heavy accent made his presentation worthless. My anxiety level and head on a swivel made sure I could not read his lips…Eddie’s hearing aides were useless. Eddie was struggling with the frantic walking pace. Out the door and two blocks away we enter an equally crowded very small wine tasting hallway, there was not enough space to call it a room. The barrels are lined up on the wall, juice glasses of a dark and light local wines were given to us. No chairs, not barstools, no explanation of what we were drinking. We both took a small sip. I do not think I have ever tasted anything that sweet…even Eddie sat the glasses down on the first available surface. The look on Eddie’s face said we might have to call 911-his back or a sugar coma were both possible. And we are off without much instruction or warning retracing steps back two blocks to a stall on the parmenter inside the market. This was the second course. Tapas. We were offer another glass of sweet wine or a Fanta. Eddie and I chose the Fanta. Lemon, could have been pineapple (right side up, I assume), it was super sugar sweet. So, first available surface for that offering. With no seating available. We watched as them battered anchovies And sardines, then dipped them in the fryer…meanwhile, we were offered raw squid on a paper napkin I told Eddie I was done. This is not what I had in mind. While I can be all in on new experiences, it did not include a sugar coma or trip to the hospital for his back. Strike three, we are out of here. We explained to Jose that we would hold the group up as we were 30 years older than the other two couples. We rarely throw down the age card…or the back card…we vested the sugar coma card. We cut our loses for the day and said goodbye. This time I hailed the taxi, one that had the green light on the roof, city of Malaga emblem on the side and a taxi meter visible from the outside windshield. 7.90 euro later (plus tip making it 10 euros) and a very short drive, we were back on board.
Did I complain to the tour group company and request my money back, no. This is how Jose makes a living, it would be deducted from his earnings… We decided to have a good laugh at the joys of aging, and eat a hamburger around the pool deck….then take a well deserved nap. After your monsters have been out and about, they need their rest to return to their cages.
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